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sweet-villain · 9 hours
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A New Tune~ Eddie Munson
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Summary : You thought you were just a guitar tech for Eddie Munson, at least that's what you thought.
Older Eddie
The faint vibrations of the bass thumped through the narrow backstage corridor. You crouched by the stack of gear, wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans. Eddie Munson stood a few feet away, surrounded by a gaggle of eager girls. They laughed, flipping their hair and tugging at his sleeve.
"Come on, Eddie! Just one picture?" A girl pouted, leaning against him.
Eddie grinned, his signature charm lighting up the dim room. "Sure, but only if I get the best angle."
You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, heart pounding. Those moments in the shadows gnawed at you. You shuffled forward, lip caught between your teeth.
"Eddie! Can I... can I help you with the guitar?" Your voice barely broke through the laughter.
He turned, eyebrows climbing in surprise. "What? Yeah, totally!"
His gaze lingered on you, not dismissive like before.
"Nice to see you actually speak," he laughed, shifting closer.
You forced a smile. “I thought maybe you’d want—”
“Love that tone. Can you show me how that riff goes again?”
You drew in a breath, feeling the weight of his eyes. “Yeah, it’s like this…”
The world blurred around you. Eddie leaned in, captivated, as your fingers danced over the strings.
The world blurred around you. Eddie leaned in, captivated, as your fingers danced over the strings of the battered guitar resting in your lap. The melody unfurled in the small space, weaving into the air thick with anticipation.
Your gaze flickered back to Eddie, ensuring his every reaction matched the rhythm of your heartbeat. His lips curved into an impish smile, the kind that sent a shiver down your spine. The weight of the girls’ presence faded into the background.
“Damn, that’s killer,” he said, his voice dropping a notch. Appreciation sparkled in his eyes. “You’ve got some serious talent.”
A flush coated your cheeks, but you fought to hold his gaze. “It’s nothing compared to what you do on stage.” 
Eddie shrugged, his casual demeanor a stark contrast to the pulse of excitement thrumming in your veins. “Nah, you’re just as important. Without you, I wouldn’t sound half as good.” 
The flutter of your heart quickened. “You really think so?” A quiet vulnerability slipped into your words.
“Of course!” He chuckled, the sound rich and warm. “Whose ears do I play for if not yours? You keep me grounded.”
The laughter of the other girls faded to an echo, lingering like a ghost. You felt the heat rise in your cheeks, the small seed of confidence pushing through the roots of your timidity. “I just want to make sure everything sounds perfect for you."
“Perfect's a stretch,” Eddie mused, scratching his chin. “But we keep chasing it, right?” 
“Right,” you echoed, a spark of excitement flickering in your chest.
The energy crackled between the two of you, threads of connection weaving tighter. 
“Ever thought about playing on stage?” he asked, leaning against the wall, arms crossed casually. 
“Me?” Your heart raced at the implication. “No, I’m just…your guitar tech. I don’t think I could handle the spotlight.”
He tilted his head, considering you, eyes glimmering like stars against a midnight sky. “You handle the pressure backstage just fine. Why not out there?”
“What ifI mess up? People would see me, not you.” The thought of a crowd's gaze made you shiver, the weight of judgment pinning you down.
Eddie stepped closer, the space between you shrinking. “Look, I’ve messedup more times than I can count. You learn from it. That’s the beauty of it.”
You darted your eyes to the floor, biting your lip. “Still, I—”
“No more ‘still’.” He interrupted, voice firmbut playful, his smile unwavering. “You have something to say. Let it out. The only person holding you back is you.”
A deep breath filled your lungs, pushing against the walls of self-doubt.
“I’m just not used toputting myself out there.”
Eddie’s gaze held steady. “Every rock star started somewhere. You don’t find your voice hiding in the shadows.”
You chewed the inside of your cheek, weighing his words. “But look at you!You beam under the lights while I... I’m just nobody.” 
Eddie stepped closer, his brow creasing with sincerity. “Hey, don’t say that. You think you’re a nobody? The girls out there wouldn't grab my attention if they didn’t see the shine in you. Every time I look at my guitar tech, I see someone a lot more interesting than half of the crowd out there.”
Your cheeks burned with warmth, a mix of embarrassment and electricity. “Really? You mean that?”
“Absolutely.” His grin turned lopsided, effortlessly charming. “You’re the one who makes the magic happen. Without you, I’m just some dude strumming a guitar.”
You lowered your gaze, fighting the urge to smile at his compliment, fear creeping up to curl around your heart. “That’s a lot of pressure,” you mumbled, your fingers brushing over the guitar strings absentmindedly. “What if I flake out?”
Eddie shrugged, the nonchalance brightening his expression. “Then you flake out. We all do. But you pick yourself up, shake it off, and go again. That’s the gig.”
He stepped back, allowing you to take a breath. Themoment hung in the air, thick with unspoken possibilities. The chatter from the group of girls faded into white noise—a world away. 
“So, when’s your first show?” Eddie casually asked, leaning against the wall, a teasing glint inhis eyes.
You shifted, a sheepish laugh escaping your lips. “Well, um, I haven’t really thought that far ahead.” 
“C’mon,” he urged, nudging your arm lightly. “You’ve got to have atleast one song stuck in your head that you’d want to perform.” 
You hesitated, fighting the flutter in your stomach. “Well, there’s one…” 
Eddie raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. “Oh? Whatis it?” 
You felt the heat creep back up your neck. “It’s...a bit silly.” 
“Hey, silly is my specialty,” he teased, leaning in closer, eyes sparkling with genuine interest.
C’mon, I won’t judge.” He lifted his hands in surrender as if to prove his point, the corner of his mouth curling into that impish grin.
You bit your lip, weighed down by the nervous energy surging through you,
“It’s… um,” you stammered, feeling the words catch in your throat. “It’s that one by The Cranberries. ‘Zombie.’”
Eddie’s brows shot up. “No way! That song kicks ass.”
Your cheeks flared with warmth. “You think so? I mean, it’s kinda heavy… definitely not the usual upbeat vibe for a show.”
His laughter rolled through the air, warm and contagious. “Sometimes heavy’s exactly what you need. "
You felt a rush of courage at his enthusiasm, your fingers drumming lightly on the guitar. “Do you really think I could pull it off? I mean, the crowd would probably prefer something, well, shinier.”
“No way,” Eddie shook his head, confidence radiating from him. “They crave authenticity. You get up there and pour your soul into ‘Zombie,’ those girls out there? They’d eat it up.” 
You squared your shoulders, emboldened by his fiery endorsementthat rolled through you like electricity. “You really believe I could do it?”
Eddie crossed his arms, leaning closer, his confidence nearly tangible. “You need to get over this nerves thing. Just step out there, show them the real you and you’ll have them hanging on every word.”
Your heart raced at the thought. “What if they don’t buy it? What if they see the ‘nobody’ I feel I am?”
Eddie shook his head, a firm determination in his gaze. “They'll see the person who’s been behind the curtain, creating magic, someone they could never find in a sea of faces out there. You have grit, and trust me, they’ll feel that.”
You swallowed hard,an electric pulse igniting within you. “You really think I can be that?”
Eddie stepped closer, closing the gap, his intensity holding you captive. “I know you can. You just have to take the leap.” 
The air between you crackled, anticipation thick enough to slice. You squeezed the guitar’s neck, fingers brushing the worn wood. “You make it sound so easy.”
Eddie chuckled, tilting his head as if weighing his words. “ It’s not easy. But you’ve already taken the first step by even considering it. Most people wouldn’t even dare think about it.” 
“Maybe they’re smart,” you muttered, hiding your smile behind your fingers.
He laughed, thesound deep and genuine, filling the space between you with warmth. “You don’t get it. It takes guts to want more. To want to play. That’s where the magic begins.”
The laughter faded, leaving a charged silence humming in the air, a delicate tension threading between you and Eddie. You let his words settle, the weight of them both exhilarating and terrifying. 
“Maybe I could try,” you said, the thought blossoming with a shy sort of determination.
“Maybe?”Eddie raised an eyebrow, a hint of a playful challenge dancing in his gaze. “Come on. That’s not a ‘maybe’ kind of idea. Just feel it. If you want to do it, say it. Confidence is a wholenew level of magic.”
“Okay,” you took a breath, serious conviction seeping into your voice. “I want to do it.”
The spark in Eddie’s eyes ignited, and he clapped his hands together. “Now we’re talking ! That’s the spirit! You’re going to blow them away.” 
His enthusiasm surged through you like a livewire, electrifying and intense.
The weight of your self-doubt transformed into a challenge, and for a moment, you felt invincible, as if you could crumble the walls that enclosed you and stand under the spotlight, breathing life into the lyrics that weighed on your heart.
Eddie leaned back against the wall, arms crossed, eyes glinting with mischief. “What the plan, rock star?” 
Your heart skipped. “The plan?” 
“Yeah, the plan. You gotta set the stage for this big reveal.” 
You blinked, caught off guard. “I’m not sure... I mean ...I didn’t think that far ahead. I just... wanted to play.”
Eddie’s laughter poured from him, bright and infectious. “And that’s exactly where we start! Step one: pick a spot. What venue feels right for the first time? An intimate crowd? Or should we go big and give them a show?”
You furrowed your brow, ruminating on his words. “Maybe something smaller? A local bar, where it’s just a few friends? I can ease into it without feeling overwhelmed.”
Eddie nodded, his eyes glinting with approval. “A solid choice. You get the comfort of familiar faces without the pressure of a stadium crowd. Plus, you control the environment.”
“Exactly,” you said, your voice steadier than before. “I know the bar’s regulars. They’re a pretty chill crowd.” 
Eddie leaned closer, enthused. “Then, it’s settled. You’ll perform at the bar. When’s your first set? We need to prepare.”
“Set?” The word felt foreign on your tongue, almost like a challenge. “I’ve never performed before. How can I have a set?”
“Start simple,” Eddie encouraged, his voice soothing yet firm. “Two or three songs max. Just enough to get your feet wet.” 
You nodded slowly, piecing the fragments together. “Okay, so I could do ‘Zombie,’ andmaybe something from Joan Jett? I’ve been practicing ‘I Love Rock ’n’ Roll.’ It’s fun.”
“Now we’re cooking!” Eddie’s enthusiasm poured over you, washing away the lingering nerves. “Start with your comfort zone, and then let them see the fire within.” 
“Fire?” The thought ignited a spark of curiosity. “I don’t know about that.” 
He stepped closer, sincerity flooding his expression. “Trust me, everyone has fire. Yours just hasn't been lit yet. You’re ready to unleash it.” 
You tucked your hair behind your ear, feeling the weight of his words. "And how do I do that?"
"Channel everything—the nerves, the excitement—let it all explodeinto the music. When you step on that stage, feel every heartbeat, every breath. Don’t just sing the lyrics; live them,” Eddie urged, eyes locked on yours, fierce and passionate.
You swallowed the lump forming in your throat. “That sounds easier said than done.”
Eddie chuckled, tilting his head in that infuriatingly charming way that made your heart skip. “Maybe. But look at it this way: what have you got to lose? It’s justa few songs in a local bar. If it flops, it’s a learning curve, right? And if it succeeds?” 
His smile widened, a challenge hidden in the corners of his mouth. 
The stakes felt tangible, the thrill pricklingthrough your veins. Eddie leaned against a stack of amplifiers, his presence warm and inviting, like a campfire on a chilly night.
“If it succeeds,” he continued, his tone low and intimate, “you’ll know you’ve taken the leap into something incredible. Something that could change everything.”
You contemplated his words, the gravity of them sinking in. “You really think I can do this?”
“Absolutely.” Eddie’s confidence enveloped you like a shield, a reminder that he believed in you, even when you struggled to believe in yourself.
You inhaled, the weight of possibility resting inside you like a coiled spring. The buzzing rhythm of the world outside the cramped backstage seemed to fade, leaving just the two of you in thatmoment. 
“Hey,” Eddie said, tilting his head. “You’re going to be great. Just stay true to yourself.”
You nodded slowly, the pulse of his reassurance echoing within you. “Yeah, true to myself…” The phrase caught in your mind, swirling through your thoughts as if it held the key to unlocking a door you had kept tightly shut.
You blinked, feeling a warmth spread through you. “Thanks, Eddie.” The words slipped out before you fully grasped the weight of what he had just offered. Gratitude flooded your chest, blooming into a soft hope, like sunlight piercing through a tapestry of clouds.
“Don’t mention it,” he replied, rummaging through his bag, revealing a small, battered notebook. He flipped through the pages, the sound of crinkling paper breaking the stillness between you.
“Here,” he said, finally pausing on a page filled with scribbles. “These are my ideas for songs—a collection of half-formed lyrics and catchy phrases. He gestured for you to come closer. 
“Are these yours?” you asked, peering over his shoulder at twisted lines and chaotic doodles. 
“Yeah,” he shrugged with acasualness that belied the pride in his voice. “Some are just thoughts that hit me in the moment. Others? Well, they might turn into something someday. Or not.” 
You traced the scrawled lyrics with your finger,reveling in the chaotic beauty of his thoughts. Words trailed across the page like a stream of consciousness—each line pulsed with promise.
“‘The shadows dance, whispers in the night,’” you read aloud, lifting an eyebrow.
Eddie leaned in closer, eyes sparkling with mischief. “You're a poet now,” he quipped, nudging you with his shoulder. 
You chuckled, the playful banter easing the tension coiling in your stomach. 
"Is that your idea of a catchy phrase?” 
“Absolutely,” Eddie shot back, a grin flickering across his lips. “It’s all about creating the right vibe. New song, right there. Rhymes and all.”
You flipped through the pages, the ink smudges reflecting messy brilliance. “These are incredible, Eddie.” The words flowed out without thinking. “They feel so raw.”
“Raw is good,” he said, leaning back, satisfaction dancing in his eyes. 
It captures the essence of where we come from, the struggles we face. It’s the truth that resonates.”
You traced your fingers over a line, feeling the weight of his journey in those brief phrases. “How do you turn something like this into a fullsong?”Eddie leaned back against the amplifiers, a thoughtful frown etched on his face. “It’s about feeling it, really. Take those lines and let them brew. You build around the feeling—the music, the rhythm. 
You let the emotions guide you. Sometimes, it even gets messy, but that’s where the magic lies.” 
You met his gaze, warmth flooding your cheeks. “I’m not sure I’d be able to capture that… messy magic.” 
“Why not?” Eddie's voice carried a playful challenge, twinkling eyes locked onto yours. 
“I guess I’m just... careful. I don’t want to mess up, and if I let it all out, who knows what might happen?”
“Messing up is part of the process,” Eddie insisted, leaning forward, enthusiasm radiating from him. “It’s not a crime; it’s how you find what works. Let the chaos unfold. That’s where the truth hides.” 
His words hung in the air, a challenge wrapped in encouragement. You felt a thrum of possibility surge through you, stirring deep within, resonating with a truth that felt so foreign yet tantalizing. 
You glanced at the scattered chaos of lyrics and notes before meeting Eddie's gaze once more. "You really enjoy this process, don’t you?" 
Eddie's grin widened, his enthusiasm contagious. “Oh, I love it. It’s like unearthing buried treasure. Each line tells a story, every note transforms into a heartbeat. You get to put yourself out there, bare and exposed
He smiled, the corners of his mouth lifting with genuine delight. “Absolutely. It’s discovery. It’s revealing pieces of yourself that often remain hidden. When you share it, you connect with others in ways that surprise you.”
You nodded, letting his words settle into you, revealing the layers of complexity in music you had never fully grasped before. This was more than just performing; it was a dance of vulnerability and strength, a way to let the echoes of your soul resonate beyond the confines of your fears.
“So,” Eddie leaned back, folding his arms behind his head, the casualness of his posture radiating confidence. “ So," Eddie leaned back, folding his arms behind his head, the casualness of his posture radiating confidence, "what’s the next step? You have the venue set, the songs lined up. Now you need to plan your attack. What 's your first move? How will you snatch that spotlight?"
You sank back against the stack of amps, feeling exhilaration surge through you like an electric current. “Um, well... I guess I need to practice, right?”
Eddie tilted his head, a playful glint in his eyes. “Practice? Pfft. Who needs that?” He feigned disinterest, but the teasing smile gave him away. 
“Very funny,” you shot back, rolling your eyes. “I definitely need to practice. If I don't, I might just crumble up there. I mean, what if I forget the words?”
Eddie leaned in, propping his chin on his hand. “Remember what I said? It’s not about the words. It’s about the feeling behind them.” 
You allowed his words to seep in, knitting together the tendrils of encouragement tangled inside you. 
“Just imagine the crowd nodding along, lost in the vibe,” he added, his voice wrapping around each word like a soft embrace. “You think they’ll care about a lyric slip? They’ll be feeling the energy you bring.”
Your heart raced at the thought. “And if I trip over my own feet?”
“Welcometo being human!” Eddie grinned, shrugging casually. “It happens to the best of us. You just keep going. If you trip, you turn it into a dance move. Make it part of the show.”
You laughed, imagining yourself tripping spectacularly, somehow making it part of a rock anthem. “Right, a ‘whoops’ moment turned ‘show-stopping’! That’d be my luck.”
Eddie bit back a chuckle, clearly enjoying the image. ““You’d become a legend!” Eddie laughed, his eyes sparkling. “The clumsy rock star who owned the stage despite tripping over her own feet.”
You shook your head, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.
“A legendfor all the wrong reasons.” 
“Who cares about the reasons?” Eddie shot back, leaning forward with an intensity that made your heart race. “What matters is the passion. If you go out there with fire in your soul, they’ll remember you for that, not the little mistakes.”
Your lips curled into a smile, emboldened by his fervor. “You’re really something, you know that?”
“Just a guy with a guitar and too much time on my hands,” he says.
You shook your head, refusing to let him downplay the moment. “No, seriously. You take the time to help people see their own potential. "
Eddie chuckled, shrugging off the compliment, but the hint of color painted his cheeks.
“Hey, someone’s gotta light the fire,” he said, leaning against the nearby stack of amps, the confidence in his casual posture making you feel like you were standing under a spotlight all your own.
“Right?” You nodded, biting back the urge to blush. The sincerity in his voice pushed away the faint doubts lingering in the back of your mind. “It’s just… every time I think about it, I get so nervous. You know?”
Eddie leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, the focus shifting entirely onto you. “Nerves are what make it real. It means you care. The moment you stop feeling nervous is the moment you stop pushing yourself. You want this, and that’s why it’s scary.” 
You let his words sink in, the truth echoing in your mind like a chorus. 
So, it’s okay to be nervous?”
“Absolutely,” Eddie leaned back, a triumphant smile lighting up his face. “Every great artist feels it. It’s part of the game. Embrace it.”
“I suppose.” You mulled over his encouragement, the weight of your apprehension slowly shifting on its axis. “But I still feel so small, like a tiny fish in a massive ocean. What if I drown?”
Eddie leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees, eyes steady and earnest. “The ocean can be overwhelming, true. But you’ve got the tools to swim. You’re not just any fish; you’ve got a voice that can carry. Besides, you’re not alone. I’ll be right there with you, cheering you on, guiding the way. "
“What if I mess up, though?” You knew the question hung heavy in the air, the nagging worry bubbling up like a stubborn tide. “What if I stand there, frozen, and the whole bar goes silent?”Eddie’s expression softened, genuinely serious for a moment. “Then you take a breath. Look around and find someone who believes in you. Focus on the music, not the crowd. You’re there to share something beautiful, not to perform for strangers.”
His voice tethered your racing thoughts, grounding you in an ocean of overwhelming emotions. You took a deep breath, the encouragement rolling over you like a warm wave. “It’s just so terrifying,” you admitted, heart thundering in your chest. 
Eddie leaned closer, the intensity in his eyes unwavering. “I get that. Fear is a powerful beast. But think about it—what’s on the other side? Think about the stories you’ll have. The laughter, the connection, the feeling of pouring your soul into song and sharing it with others. You get to create something real.”
The warmth of his words settled around you, wrapping you in a haze of possibility. “And if it’s bad then I learn. If it’s bad, I get up and try again,” you finished, allowing the truth to hang between you. The fear still throbbed in your chest, but somewhere in that crowded space, a flicker of hope ignited, small yet persistent.
Eddie’s grin widened, and he leaned back, hands behind his head like he’d accomplished something monumental. 
"See that? You’re already thinking like a performer. It’s all about possibility. Don’t let the fear drown it out." 
You leaned back against the wall, tapping your fingers nervously against the guitar body, the pulse of uncertainty still thrumming in your veins. “You really believe I can turn this fear into a strength?”
Eddie pushed off the wall, rocking on his heels. “Absolutely. Fear isn’t the enemy; it’s a sign that you’re on the edge of something great. If you approach it right, it becomes your fuel."
You tilted your head and considered his words, feeling a flicker of understanding ignite deep within you. “So, instead of being afraid, I should lean into it? Let it fuel my fire?”
“Exactly!” Eddie’s enthusiasm crackled in the air like a livewire. He bounced on his heels, energy radiating from him. “You take that fear and turn it into raw power. Channel it into your performance. When you stand up there, your heart racing, let that energy inspire the audience.
They'llbe right there with you, feeling every note and word, riding the waves of your emotion.”
A determined grin spread across your face, the idea taking root in your mind. “I can feel it already, Eddie. Like the adrenaline of jumping off a cliff, knowing there’s water below.”
“Exactly,” Eddie nodded. “Once you leap, you find out what you’re truly capable of. That rush? That’s invincibility.”
You leaned back against the amp, a flicker of adrenaline igniting under your skin. “What if I leap but hit the rocks below instead?” 
Eddie’s expression softened, a knowing smile playing on his lips. “Then you’ll learn from the impact and climb back up. It’s about resilience, too. Each fall teaches you something new. Every bruise becomes a badge, showing you survived.”
You took a moment, letting his words wash over you, smoothing the edges of your
Excitement bubbled within you, battling against the lingering doubts. The rhythm of your heartbeat synced with the pulse of newfound determination that thrummed deep inside.
“Okay,” you said, lifting your chin. “I choose to leap. No rocks will hold me back.” 
Eddie clapped his hands together, a flourish of triumph filling the air. “That’s the spirit! Let’s keep the momentum rolling. What's next?”
You cast your gaze around the cluttered backstage, cluttered with cables, half-empty water bottles, and stacks of equipment that hummed with potential energy. Your surroundings felt less intimidating now, just artifacts that contributed to the ambiance of possibility.
“Okay,” you began, your voice steadier, “I guess the next part is actually picking my set list.”
Eddie leaned against a stack of amps, fingers drumming against his thigh. “Absolutely! You need a killer set list. The songs should flow together, create that perfect vibe.” He tilted his head, considering. “What do your gut instincts say?”You furrowed your brow, feeling the weight of his question. “I think… I definitely want to start with ‘Zombie.’ It’s powerful. Then maybe ‘I Love Rock ’n’ Roll.’ They’re different enough to let my personality shine. 
“Perfect,” Eddie grinned, nodding as if you had just announced a secret plan to take over the world. “That’s a solid opener and a crowd-pleaser for sure. But for the last song,
what are you thinking?” 
You rubbed your chin, pondering the idea. “I could go with something more emotional, something to leave a lasting impression. Maybe something like ‘Landslide’ by Fleetwood Mac?” 
Eddie’s eyes litup, a mix of surprise and admiration brightening his expression. “Now we’re talking. That song is beautiful and heartfelt. Perfect for a powerful closer.” 
“Really?” You felt a surge of confidence at his enthusiasm. “I wasn’t sure it would fit with the other two.” 
Eddie raised his brows, genuinely impressed. “You’re missing the point. ‘Zombie’ packs a punch, ‘I Love Rock ’n’ Roll’ speaks to the fun, and ‘Landslide’ wraps it all up with depth and reflection. It’s like a journey through your emotions, and by the end of it, they’ll feel all the layers you’ve built in that short set. It’s brilliant!”
Your heart raced,the swell of excitement eclipsing any remaining traces of doubt. “I can't believe I actually created a set list.”
Eddie’s pride flickered brightly. “You did more than that. You created a moment. This is your story.” He straightened, excitement radiating through him. “It’s not just about the music; it’s about the connection you create. Those songs compress your essence into a few precious minutes. It’s your chance to be raw and real.”
The thought both exhilarated and terrified you. For the first time, you felt the weight of those words pierce through your nervousness and ignite a flame. 
“Wow,” you muttered, leaning back against the amplifiers. “That’s… a lot tocarry.”Eddie shifted, resting his hands on the edge of the amp, his smile unwavering. “That’s the beauty of it. You don’t have to carry it alone. This moment isn’t yours to bear in isolation. You’ll have an audience there, feeling every pulse of your music with you."
" and you'll have me" He emphasized the promise, his earnest gaze locking onto yours with an unwavering intensity. “I’ll be right there, backstage, living and breathing every note."
He leans closer, pressing a kiss on your forehead. The warmth of his lips lingered like a breath of wind, leaving a rush of warmth trailing down your spine. You froze, caught between surprise and exhilaration. Eddie pulled back, his eyes dancing with mischief, a grin spreading across his face like a forgotten melody suddenly rediscovered.
“Didn’t see that coming, huh?” he teased, attempting to mask the sincerity in his voice with a playful wink.
You blinked, the warmth of that fleeting connection thrumming through you. ““Uh, no, not at all,” you stammered, struggling to compose yourself, the rush of heat flooding your cheeks.
Eddie laughed, biting his bottom lip. " It's cute" 
You stumbled over your words, heart racing. “C-cute? Is that what you’re calling it?”
He leaned against a stack of amps, the mischief in his eyes glowing brighter. “Absolutely. A bold move, if I do say so myself. Shows real confidence.” 
You fumbled with the strings of your guitar, the heat creeping up your neck. “Yeah, well... I didn’t expect you to go all soft on me, Munson.”
" You think I never notice you backstage or when you tune my guitar for me? I'm Eddie Munson. I'm not the boy that I used to be in high school. I'm older, smarter, and a charmer" 
You raised an eyebrow, a half-smile creeping onto your face. “A charmer, huh? Is that how you win over all those girls?” 
He shrugged, leaning back against the amp, a gleam of mischief in his eyes.“Depends on the girl. Some like the charm, others just want the show.” He leaned in, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret. “But I’ve never been interested in the ones who throw themselves at me. They don’t see the real Eddie Munson. Just a persona they’ve conjured in their heads.”
His words hit home, primal yet intimate, unraveling a thread you had kept tightly woven. You glanced down, fingers tracing over the guitar’s frets, feeling the familiarity of the worn wood grounding you amid the simmering tension. Eddie's words echoed in your mind. You lifted your gaze.
“So, when you see me, what do you see?” The question slipped out before you could catch it.
" Someone as beautiful as the melody" he answers. The air crackled with his words, a powerful resonance that sent a shiver down your spine. "Beautiful?" You barely managed to breathe through the shock, heart pounding against your ribcage.
Eddie nodded, leaning in, intensity swirling in his gaze. “Yeah, just like that. There’s a strength in you, even in your shyness. You’re like a song waiting to be played.” 
The flutter in your chest soared, a wave of warmth washing over your cheeks.
" Munson!" A voice shrieked from the hallway, interrupting the moment. The girls from earlier, still buzzing with energy, burst through the doorway like a whirlwind, laughter trailing behind them. The spell shattered, leaving you breathless. 
“All of those girls waiting for you" you looked away sadly. Eddie's gaze lingered on you just a moment longer, a flicker of something unspoken dancing in his eyes before he turned to greet the girls.
“Hey!” he called, his tone brightening instantly, like flipping a switch.
"We thought we lost you" one of the girls giggled, wrapping her arms around him while you stood up, eyes on your shoes and ready to go. You felt the weight of their laughter, a tidal wave crashing against the quiet bubble you had shared with Eddie. 
“Eddie! Come on, we’re waiting!” Another girl tugged at his sleeve, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
Eddie flashed a grin, turning his attention fully toward the group. “I’ll be right there! Just chatting with my guitar tech!” 
Your heart sank as the girls practically surrounded him, laughter and teasing banter filling the space. 
You were about to walk away when Eddie pulls you back in, this time he's towering over you and his breathe lingering on your face.“Hey,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the din of laughter. His eyes softened, holding yours, an unspoken connection hanging thick in the air. “Don’t go. Just hang out for a bit.”
" I have a job to do" it was like he could see the hurt in your eyes from when the girls appeared changing your mood. “I get it, but you’re not just my guitar tech. You’re part of this,” he insisted, his voice firm yet gentle, the intensity in his gaze refusing to let go. 
" This is nothing, not to Eddie Munson" you scoffed. Eddie’s brow furrowed, and he stepped closer, blocking the chatter of the girls behind him. “Don’t say that. You’re more than just what you do. You add something real to this chaos.”
" I am not going to be another notch on your belt" He held your gaze, intensity etched on his face, the laughter from the girls fading into a blur behind him. “You think that’s what I’m doing? Just collecting girls like trophies?” 
" you feel sorry for me, you see the silent guitar tech and offer her a moment of your god like presence" you roll your eyes. Eddie's expression shifted, surprise morphing into frustration. “This isn’t some pity party, alright? I’m not trying to collect another girl for my fan club.”
" I am not going to a girl you throw around like trash. I have feelings. I am a person" Eddie's expression tightened, frustration painting his features. “Damn it, that’s not what I meant.” He stepped closer, invading your space, his gaze unyielding. “You think I don’t see you? You think I can just throw you aside like everyone else?” 
His voice dropped as he searched your eyes, the raw honesty reflected within them making your heart race. 
“I don’t want to just look at you. I want to know you. I want to see the person behind the guitar tech. You’re not just some face in the crowd.” 
" Eddie!" the girls call to him. 
" Go back to your groupies" you roll your eyes. Eddie's gaze hardened for a moment, frustration flickering across his features. He opened his mouth to protest, but your heart felt like glass, ready to shatter.
“Hey, look…” he started, but the laughter of the girls grew closer.
" Eddie, come on. They are all waiting for you to drink with us" 
You look up at him, eyes glossy thinking the moment you shared with him was all too good to be true. Eddie’s gaze flickered between you and the group of girls, conflict roiling within him. The laughter dripped from the doorway, bright and inviting, an allure that pulled him back into the thrumming energy of the crowd.
Before he could say anything. You walked away.
The lights of the venue pulsated like a heartbeat, casting an electric glow across the crowd. Eddie Munson stood atop the stage, guitar slung low, his presence commanding the attention of everyone packed into the room. You stood at the edge, watching as he moved, a whirlwind of energy and charisma against the painted backdrop of neon lights. Each chord he struck resonated through the crowd, a wave of sound crashing into you, tugging at the threads of connection you had just begun to explore. Your heart thudded in time with the music, every note reverberating through your chest. Behind the barriers, the audience swayed, lost in the electrifying haze of Eddie’s performance.
His gaze poured over the crowd, and for a brief moment, it locked onto yours. You felt it like a jolt, an electric current surging through the spaces between you. The crowd blurred into insignificance as time slowed, and all that remained was his intense, searching stare blurred into insignificance as time slowed, and all that remained was his intense, searching stare. Eddie’s fingers danced deftly across the fretboard, each strum sending a ripple through the air, but the fire in his eyes anchored your gaze like a lighthouse guiding a ship through stormy seas. For that fleeting moment, he sang only for you, and the words mingled with unspoken promises and a challenge to leap into the unknown.
“ I know your listening " he starts with a confident grin, voice soaring over the crowd. “And I know you’ve got something to say!” 
Electricity crackled through the air, sending shivers racing down your spine. The heartbeat of the audience pulsed around you, but Eddie’s voice cut through the chaos, wrapping around you like a lingering embrace. It pierced the noise and stirred something deep within your chest, awakening the quiet ambitions you had kept locked away. 
He jumps onto the bottom next to where you stood. Eddie leaped off the stage, landing with an effortless grace that sent the crowd into a frenzy. A tide of bodies surged, hands reaching for him, but for you, the world narrowed to just him. His eyes sparkled with mischief and excitement, a daring challenge painted across his face. The air buzzed with adrenaline, and he approached, his grin wide as the crowd roared around him.
Eddie moved closer, his presence magnetic, and your cheeks flushed with the electric thrill of being so near him. The crowd pulsed, a living entity caught in the rhythm. With each chord, he wove together a tapestry of sound that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. The energy radiated from him, enveloping you in a whirlwind of pulse and passion, sending your heart racing with every word he belted into the microphone.
The heat of his grip was electric, a jolt that surged through your veins as he pulled you closer to the stage, the thrumming power of the crowd enveloping you in a cocoon of sound. Eddie leaned in, his breath warm against your ear as he continued to sing, his voice layering over the music like silk. You could hardly process the reality of the moment—the electrifying sensation of his hand entwined with yours, the crowd surging around you, and the intensity of his gaze locked onto yours. 
“Feel it!” Eddie shouted, the energy of his voice piercing through the chaos. “Let it wash over you!” His lyrics wrapped around you like a spell, enticing you to surrender to the moment. 
Eddie cupped your face, his thumb brushing your cheek, and the warmth spread through you like wildfire. Around you, the crowd pulsed in sync with the thumping bass, but all you could focus on was him. His eyes bore into you, a swirling galaxy of emotion reflecting back at you. The world around faded into a hazy backdrop, the vibrant colors of the crowd bleeding into one another, transforming them into a chorus of anticipation and excitement. 
“Don’t you see?”
“Don’t you see?” Eddie’s voice wrapped around your senses, each word charged with urgency. “This is your moment! You don’t have to hide anymore!”
You swallowed hard, the call of his words cutting through the din of the crowd. Your heart raced.
" Sing" he gets another microphone. " Show them" Eddie’s voice pierced the noise, drowning out the crowd's chatter as he pressed the microphone into your trembling hands. You stared at it, the cold metal feeling foreign against your skin, the weight of it heavy with expectation. 
“What?” you stammered, voice nearly lost amidst the thrumming energy of the crowd.
“Sing!” Eddie's grin widened, a spark of mischief dancing in his eyes. “Come on, don’t let this moment slip away!” 
" Are you insane?" Eddie chuckled, his breath brushing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “This is the moment you’ve been building up to! Grab the mic and own it!”
" I can't" The weight of his gaze held you captive, a mixture of encouragement and challenge flickering behind those passionate eyes. 
" If you sing, then I'll kiss you" 
The words hung in the air, suspended between you like an electric charge. Your heart stuttered, a wild rhythm echoing through your veins, mixing with the pulse of the crowd around you. Did he just—? 
“Are you serious?"” you whispered, feeling heat climb up your cheeks.
Eddie leaned closer, a devilish grin spreading across his face. “Dead serious. You take the mic and unleash that voice of yours, and I’ll give you a kiss right here, in front of everyone.” The challenge in his eyes ignited something deep within, an adrenaline rush electrifying your veins. The crowd pulsed around you, demanding, throbbing with energy, and suddenly the weight of the moment hung by a thread between exhilaration and fear, a delicate balance teetering on the edge of chaos. You gripped the microphone, knuckles whitening, a cold metal reminder of the stakes at play. 
The microphone vibrated against your lips, a trembling connection that ignited a spark within you. You opened your mouth, and the words flowed like a river, a tide crashing against every hesitation. 
Your voice emerged, tentative at first, but the energy radiating from Eddie propelled you forward. The lyrics wrapped around you like a shroud, each note gaining strength as you surrendered to the rhythm pulsing through your veins. The cold metal of the microphone warmed against your palm, your voice echoing through the venue. 
Eddie's eyes sparkledas he watched you, the crowd’s energy crackling around you like electricity. 
With every line, the fear that had coiled in your chest began to unravel, giving way to something liberating. You found your footing, your heart syncing with the rhythm of the music. The lyrics cascaded from your lips, gaining momentum as you poured every ounce of emotion into your voice. 
The song culminated in a crescendo, the final chord hanging in the air like a breath held too long. You stumbled back, the microphone slipping from your grasp as Eddie scooped it up, still grinning beneath the electric glow of the stage lights
Eddie stepped back, watching in awe, the energy radiating from you drawing a pulse of electricity through the crowd. A roar erupted from the audience, a wave of applause crashing against you like an adrenaline tide. Eddie’s eyes sparkled, laughter dancing just beneath the surface. 
“See?” he shouted over the din, his voice resonating with excitement, the crowd’s roar echoing your own racing heartbeat. “You’re a rock star!”
You struggled to catch your breath, the thrill of the moment pooling in your chest. Every cheer from the audience wrapped around you, tugging at the corners of your lips, turning every doubt inside out. The exhilaration coursed through you, a tidal wave of adrenaline that drowned out your fears, leaving only a bright flicker of joy. 
" I think you promised to do something, Munson" your cheeks turned red. Eddie's laughter danced in the air as he took an exaggerated step back, feigning innocence. “Did I?” He leaned in closer, a teasing glint igniting his eyes. “What was that promise again?”
His grin widened, the playful challenge lingering in the air, electric with anticipation. “What was it again? Something about a kiss if you sang?” 
" You don't have to.. it was stupid thing..." Eddie’s grin widened, the playful challenge lingering in the air, electric with anticipation. “A promise is a promise,” he said, leaning closer, the light playing in his eyes. “You took the plunge; now it’s my turn to hold up my end.”
Eddie stepped forward, his presence filling the space between you and the pulsing crowd. The heat radiating from his body drew you in, your heart racing as anticipation mixed with the heady exhilaration of performing. 
The electrifying pulse of the crowd faded momentarily, leaving just the two of you suspended in the aftermath of your performance. Eddie stepped closer, the heat radiating from him enveloping you like a warm blanket on a chilly night. This was your moment, a heartbeat between the chaos of the crowd and the intimacy of your shared victory.
He stood there, inches away, his gaze intense and unwavering, capturing the energy of the audience just as easily as he captured yours. You could feel the world shrinking, the chaos around you fading into a melodious hum. Eddie leaned in, tilting his head to catch the glimmer in your eyes, a playful mischief dancing across his features.
" You're being too slow, Eddie" you joked. His grin widened, yet mischief sparkled in his eyes. “Slow? I thought I was taking my time, savoring the moment.”
“Because a kiss is all about savoring it,” you teased back, unable to help the flutter of anticipation that danced in your chest.
Eddie's laugh rolled out, sincere and infectious, drawing you in further. "That's the spirit! But don't think you can roast me and back out of the kiss, rock star." He leaned closer, the earnest glimmer in his eyes igniting a fire within you. “I’m not backing out,” you teased, your heart pounding against your ribs as he moved ever so slightly, the distance between you almost nonexistent. The enthusiasm from the crowd surged around you, a sea of voices thrumming with excitement, yet time seemed to stretch, pulling the moment into sharp focus.
The world faded as Eddie leaned in, his intent clear, and your heart raced with a mix of exhilaration and trepidation. The world around you melted into a hazy backdrop, the pulsing crowd fading into mere whispers as his presence enveloped you. 
His lips brushed against yours—a feather-light touch that sent a spark shooting through your veins. It felt electric against yours—a feather-light touch that sent a spark shooting through your veins. It felt electric, a jolt that resonated through every nerve ending. The world around you disappeared, consumed by the intoxicating warmth of the moment. Eddie drew back slightly his eyes searching yours, a mixture of triumph and exhilaration dancing across his features.
“Wow,” he breathed, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile that lit up his entire face. “You’ve got some magic there.” 
" Stop teasing" you tell him.Eddie chuckled, his laughter bright and infectious. “I’m serious! That was absolutely spellbinding.”
You rolled your eyes, trying to mask your embarrassment but failing. 
The roar of the crowd surged around you, a tidal wave of joy and exhilaration. Yet, even amidst their cheers and applause, Eddie's unyielding gaze held you captive. The world spun around, but you found your center in the spark of connection forged in that moment. You felt invincible, buoyed by what you had just done—and by what it meant.
" Let's give another round of roars and shouts for my awesome cute guitar tech" Eddie says into the microphone. The roar of the crowd swelled, a wave of sound vibrating through the venue as Eddie championed you. Laughter erupted from your lips, cheeks blazing with warmth, your heart racing against the backdrop of their applause. 
" You're something else, Eddie Munson" Eddie beamed, the electric energy coursing through the crowd amplifying the moment’s intensity. “Just wait until you see what else I can do!” He winked at you.
You were going to hold him on that promise.
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rafecameronssl4t · 4 months
Note
hey! could u do a rafe x reader with kinda the grumpy and sunshine/ mean to everyone but me trope? like the reader is super girly and a total sweetheart like wouldn’t hurt a fly and no one expected rafe to be able to pull her? maybe like other guys have made moves on her but for some reason she only wants him
Untouchable || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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A/n: THANK U FOR THE REQUEST!!!!! (the gif above is what I envision Rafe's appearance to be in this fic)
Warnings: none :)
Word count: 1,178
MASTERLIST
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Divider by @yoonitos
"Oh look, Rafe's here," Chelsea leans in to whisper to all of you girls. All heads turn to where she is subtly pointing. Rafe Cameron, with his buzzed hair and brooding expression, strides through the country club, his presence commanding attention.
You can't help but notice how your friends’ eyes widen, their expressions a mix of curiosity and apprehension. Kaycee sighs, shaking her head. "It's such a shame he's so grumpy and mean all the time. He's good-looking, but that attitude just ruins everything."
A few of the girls agree with her words, their eyes still on Rafe. You're about to respond when you catch Rafe’s gaze from across the club. His intense blue eyes lock onto yours, and to your surprise, he starts walking toward your table. Your friends' chatter fades into the background as he approaches, and you can feel the tension rising.
"Guys?" Kaycee whisper yells, her eyes darting nervously between you and Rafe. Before you can answer, Rafe is standing beside you. Without a word, he wraps his arms around your shoulders, pulling you close.
Your friends silently watch as he plants a soft kiss on your lips. The world seems to pause for a moment, the only sound your heart pounding in your chest. When he finally pulls away, he gives you a smile that’s reserved just for you. "Hey, babe," he says, his voice low and intimate. You smile back, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Hey, Rafe."
Your friends are staring, their mouths open in shock. Kaycee looks like she might faint, and Chelsea's eyes are so wide they might pop out of her head. You can practically hear their thoughts racing. "Hi ladies," Rafe nods his head to your friends as they all stumble across a response.
Rafe chuckles, clearly enjoying the reaction. "I'll see you later yeah?" he murmurs as you hum in response, giving you one last squeeze before heading to his own table. As he walks away, your friends erupt into a flurry of whispers and exclamations. "Are you serious?" Lily asks, her voice a mix of disbelief and excitement. "You and Rafe Cameron?"
You shrug, attempting to play it cool but failing miserably. "Yeah, we've been seeing each other for a while now." Kaycee shakes her head, still in shock. "I can't believe you didn't tell us! All this time, we thought you were just committed to your single streak."
Jada's eyes practically sparkle with excitement. "Not gonna lie, I've been rooting for you two since our days at Kook Academy." You laugh. Across the club, you see Rafe sitting with his friends, who are equally stunned by what they just saw. They keep glancing over at you, clearly trying to piece together how their friend who was notorious for not doing relationships end up with you.
Rafe catches your eye and gives you a wink, his usual grumpiness replaced with a rare, genuine smile as you smile back.
~
As Rafe walks away from your table, the whispers and gasps of your friends gradually fade into the background. You watch him stride confidently across the pool area, his usual brooding expression softened by a small, private smile. He reaches his table, where his friends are already in various states of shock and confusion.
Kelce is the first to speak, his voice a mix of disbelief and curiosity. "Dude, what was that?" He leans forward, his eyes wide with surprise. "You're telling me you bagged Y/n Y/l/n?"
Rafe drops into his seat and picks up his drink, taking a long sip before answering. "Yeah, we’ve been together for a while now." His tone is casual, but you can see the satisfaction in his eyes as he lets the news sink in.
Topper, who has been silent until now, finally finds his voice. "How the hell did that happen?" he asks, still staring at Rafe as if he's grown a second head. "She’s turned down just about everyone on this island who’s tried, and that includes me!"
Rafe chuckles, clearly enjoying the attention. "That's just cause you guys aren't me" he says with a cocky smirk. "Or maybe I just didn’t give up." The table falls silent for a moment as his friends process this new information. Then, one by one, they start to bombard him with questions.
"How long have you been seeing her?" asks Kelce, still trying to wrap his head around the idea. "Why didn’t you tell us?" adds Topper, his tone a mix of hurt and curiosity. "And how did you even get her to go out with you?" another friend chimes in.
Rafe leans back in his chair, his demeanor relaxed and confident. "We’ve been seeing each other for a couple of months now," he begins, glancing over at you with a soft smile. "I didn’t tell you guys because we wanted to keep it private. Didn’t want everyone in our business, you know?"
Topper raises an eyebrow. "And how did you manage to win her over? She’s not exactly known for giving people a chance." Rafe laughs, a deep, genuine sound that surprises even himself. "Honestly, it wasn’t that hard," he admits with a grin.
"I had my eyes on her for a while. She’s smart and doesn’t put up with any bullshit. 'S what I like about her." He glances over at you again, mesmerised by how radiant you looked, giggling at something your friend said.
His friends exchange looks, a mix of admiration and incredulity on their faces. It’s clear they’re seeing a side of Rafe they never knew existed. "Wow, man," says Kelce, shaking his head with a grin. "I never thought I’d see the day when Rafe Cameron is all soft and in love." Rafe playfully rolls his eyes, "You guys are idiots."
Topper claps Rafe on the shoulder, a wide grin on his face. "Good for you, dude. Seriously. If anyone can handle your grumpy ass, it’s her." Rafe laughs again, the sound blending into the ambient noise of the country club. He glances back over at you, catching your eye once more. You smile at him, a warmth spreading through your chest as you see the genuine happiness in his eyes.
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lqvesoph · 5 months
Text
Kingsday || LN4
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lando norris x fem!reader
summary: when celebrating kingsday with your boyfriend lando ends with a small injury, and a call from his boss
masterlist
Your boyfriend being friends with a dutch DJ, meant one thing: party, party and party. Especially on Kingsday, a day where the dutch people celebrated the King‘s birthday, or got drunk on random boats driving down the channel of Amsterdam.
You had arrived about two hours ago. Lando immediately joined Martin at the DJ desk whereas you went to get some drinks for the two of you.
Now two hours later, Lando was still with Martin, or so you hoped because you actually haven’t seen him in over 30 minutes.
"Y/n!! Y/n come here!", a voice that you recognized as Martin called. You whisked around to find the dutchman waving frantically.
You frowned and excused yourself from your conversation before making your way through the mass of people. "What’s wrong?", you shouted. "It’s Lando, come!", Martin yelled and reached a hand out for you to take.
You gladly accepted his help to guide you through the people and to your boyfriend. And lord, you almost dropped your glass when you saw Lando.
"Baby!", a drunken smile graced his face. But that wasn’t the only thing. Before there were glasses and a ribbon in the dutch colours but now there was a white bandage wrapped around his head.
"Lando, what the hell happened??", you called, hastily placing your glass on a table and rushing to your boyfriend.
"I’m so happy you’re here", he slurred, placing his hands on your cheeks and pulling you into a messy kiss. You returned the kiss for a second before pulling back, holding him upright and steady.
"Baby, can you explain what happened?", you tried to again, pushing back his curls. "There were SO many people", he giggled and you tried your best to stay calm and let him finish talking. "And then I tripped and then there was an elbow and glass and suddenly ow…", his face dropped towards the end and his fingers reached up to his nose.
You held his hand back. "Don’t touch, let me see", you muttered and removed the very badly done bandage. You held his chin to move his head to the sides to get a good look at his bloody nose.
"Does it hurt?", you asked, carefully touching the brink of his nose. "Nope!", Lando grinned proudly, making you roll your eyes. "Of course not, you’re drunk", you mumbled.
"Martin, can you get my bag please? It’s with Lando’s jacket behind the DJ pult", you explained to Lando’s friend who nodded immediately and went to grab your bag.
When Martin came back you pulled tissue and sanitizer out of the black bag and cleaned up the blood around Lando’s nose. "Are you like a professional?", a guy asked, nodding at the things in your hand and your firm grip on Lando’s chin. "Almost", you chuckled. "I’m studying medicine."
"Yeah, she’s gonna be a doctor!", Lando called proudly. "Shh", you firmly said snd squeezed his chin. "It doesn’t look broken, maybe bruised but you‘ll be fine", you delivered the verdict. "You‘re the best, thank you. I love you", Lando mumbled, leaning forward to connect your lips again. A few "Aww"s were heard around you which made you smile just as Lando‘s phone started ringing.
The boy fumbled it out of his pocket, only to find his boss‘ name on the display. "Oh oh, that means trouble", Martin muttered. Seeing as you weren’t as drunk as the rest of the people around you, your reaction times were way faster. And so you reached forward to grab Lando‘s phone out of his hands to answer the call yourself.
"Lando Norris, what on earth are-", Zak‘s voice roared through the speakers. "Zak, hi, it’s me Y/n", you quickly interrupted the American who abruptly stopped talking.
"Y/n? I didn’t know you are with Lando", he sounded surprised.
"Martin invited us over-" "There’s a picture of Lando bleeding and with a bandage circulating around the internet, care to explain the situation?", Zak interrupted you, getting straight to the point.
"I wasn’t with him when it happened but according to him and various people around him, he tripped and cut his nose. Martin got me soon after and I already took a look at his nose and he‘s okay. A bit bruised, going to cause a bit of pain when putting a helmet on but he‘ll be fine. Nothing‘s broken or anything like that", you broke down the whole story to Lando‘s boss while pushing your fingers through Lando‘s curls.
He let out a sigh and you could imagine him sitting in his office chair, rubbing the side of his head. "Okay, can I talk to him for a second?", Zak said and you nodded, leaning down to Lando and handing him the phone.
"He wants to talk to you", you muttered, putting the phone to his ear. "Hiii", Lando called excitedly, making you squeeze your eyes shut with a chuckle. "Noo, I swear I‘m okay even better than okay!", he assured his boss. "Zak, I‘m fineee! Y/n is taking care of me."
"Hey Zak, did you know that dutch people-", you pulled the phone back from his ear before he could spill some stupid shit. "I‘ll get him back home in one piece, I promise", you said, ruffling his curls. "Thank you, Y/n", Zak replied before saying goodbye.
You took a deep breath and put Lando‘s phone in your back pocket. The Brit leaned his head against your stomach and closed his eyes with a content drunk smile.
"You okay?", you whispered with a smile and tapped the back of his head a few times. Lando nodded against your stomach and then looked up at you, pouting his lips to let you know he wanted a kiss. You smirked and leaned down to connect your lips.
"Okay let’s get back!", he called enthusiastically and got up, swaying a little when he stood. You wrapped an arm around his waist, doing your best to steady him. Lando naturally put his around your shoulders.
"Let‘s get you a glass of water and then we can go back, alright?", you compromised with him and dragged him over to the bar, telling the guy to hand you a glass of water.
You thanked him and turned your body to Lando, holding the cup close to his mouth. "Here you go."
Lando took a few sips and then leaned closer to your ear. "I love you", he whispered, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck. You giggled and pulled him into a hug. "I love you", you replied.
"Let’s go back to Martin", he then called, making you laugh. "Oh and can I please get another Vodka Lemon?", Lando turned to the barkeeper who looked at you for approval. "Okay sure", he said when you nodded.
"Drink up, come on, hop hop", you clapped his waist a few times and nodded to the cup of water. Lando nodded and down the liquid in a few seconds before grabbing the fresh cup and taking the two of you back to Martin.
"What do you think Zak would say if I get behind that DJ desk?", Lando asked you. You chuckled. "He already called you once today because he worried you broke your nose so I don’t think it can get much worse", you replied making Lando laugh. "I‘ll just say you forced me to", your boyfriend said before pressing a kiss to your lips and walking around the desk to join Martin.
"Joining in again?", the dutchman asked, putting his arm around Lando. He nodded and was quickly handed the headphones. You chuckled, pulling out your phone to take a video of Lando pressing random buttons on the DJ desk. He grinned broadly when he spotted your camera on him.
"Come here, baby!", he called you over, holding the hand that wasn’t holding his glass. You put your phone away and took your boyfriend‘s hand.
He turned you around in a swift motion, wrapping his arms around your neck and pressing your body to his. You laughed out loud at the action but let him sway you from side to side.
Taking a sip from your glass you carefully pushed your hips back into his. When you didn’t get a reaction from him you did it again, this time a bit firmer. "Once is a mistake, two‘s a choice", he muttered in your ear, making you giggle.
Lando moved one of his hand down to your stomach, pressing you against him while he swayed your hips. His lips being so close to your ear meant the small breathy moan that left his lips was only for you to hear.
You turned your head so your nose was pressing against his jawline. A small kiss against his skin made him smile.
It wad Lando‘s turn to press himself closer to your back. "Okay, baby, no funny business until later", you chuckled, placing your fingers on his hands on your stomach.
"Oh, so you can tease but I can’t?", Lando chuckled teasingly and turned you around. "You can tease all you want, as soon as we’re inside our own four walls", you whispered, leaning closer to his ear.
"Promise?", Lando smirked.
"Promise!", you laughed, pressing your lips on his in a soft kiss.
📍 Amsterdam, Netherlands
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tagged: landonorris, martingarrix
yn: Kingsday well spent (+ Lando at the airport the next day🤭)
comments:
landonorris: Violation
> yn: U were the one who got injured…
> landonorris: U r the one who posted it
> yn: I was also the one who aided you
> landonorris: I- don’t have anything else to add🙃
martingarrix: Had the best time🧡
> yn: Thanks for having us!!
maxverstappen: Did my invite get lost orrr?
> yn: LETS GO OUT IN MIAMI!!
oscarpiastri: Mate, you looked DEAD
> landonorris: thanks a lot, MATE🙃
ybff: YOU LOOK GORGEOUS unlike a certain brit boy
> landonorris: hey!
fan: The way she still slayed at the club while Lando was wearing that neon ass hat😭
fan: All the Mclaren members laughing at sleeping Lando lmaoo
fan: Lando getting violated by his girlfriend and his girlfriend‘s best friend and his teammate😭
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queenofwands89 · 1 month
Text
Quiet Affections
Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Pilot!reader
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Summary: After her friends tease her about Jake having a crush on her, Y/N reflects on certain memories that make her question whether there might be some truth to their playful jabs.
Warnings: Teasing, pining, Jake being a sweetheart, Y/N being oblivious, insults aimed at Y/N, protective Jake, mention and description of injury, anxiety, doubts, fluff.
Notes: Happy Friday, everyone! We made it! 🎉 I just hit 2,500 likes on here and wanted to thank each and every one of you who liked, reblogged, or commented on my works. It means the world to me. I’m down bad for Jake, and need him badly so I wrote this. Enjoy byeeee
You find yourself deep in the heart of the Hard Deck, the familiar hum of chatter and clinking glasses forming a comforting backdrop. Rooster, Natasha, Javy, Bob, Reuben, and Mickey are clustered around the pool table, laughter spilling freely as they take turns making shots and throwing jabs. Jake had just excused himself to go to the restroom, but not before brushing a lingering hand against your shoulder and whispering something that made you smile. This action set off a chain reaction of teasing directed at you.
"Y/N, you know Hangman’s got a huge crush on you, right?" Rooster's mustache twitches with a sly smile as he lines up for his shot.
You laugh it off, waving a hand dismissively. "Oh please, Bradley. Jake? No way. He's just... nice."
Rooster and Natasha exchange glances before Natasha cocks an eyebrow at you. "Nice? Hangman is many things, but nice isn't the first word I'd use. Unless he’s talking to you," she remarks, tapping her cue stick against her palm.
Bob, always the quiet observer, chimes in. "He's got a point though, Y/N. I've seen how he looks at you."
You can't help but roll your eyes. "I'm just completely unaware of it," you say, sarcasm dripping from your voice. "You guys are ridiculous."
Mickey grins, his boyish charm lighting up his face. "Maybe, but can you really deny the way he's always got your back?" he asks, leaning casually against the pool table.
Your first instinct is to rebut, but as their words settle in, you start to think about some of the things Jake had done for you. Not just the grand gestures like saving your hide in aerial combat, but the small, everyday things. The way he'd always save you a seat, bring you coffee exactly how you like it, offer subtle words of encouragement when you doubted yourself.
Javy steps forward, his competitive spirit twinkling in his eyes. "You're telling me you haven't noticed how he always goes out of his way to make sure you're okay?"
Reuben, good-natured but always vigilant, nods in agreement. "Hangman's not exactly an altruistic guy, Y/N. But for you? He'd go to lengths he wouldn't for anyone else."
You crack a wry smile, determined to stay firm in your denial. "He's just protective. We're teammates."
Natasha had already joined in, her voice warm yet teasing. “Don’t sell yourself short, Y/N. It’s not just about being teammates. He genuinely cares.”
In the ensuing silence, you can't help but ponder on their words. Jake "Hangman" Seresin is charismatic and assertive, traits forged from his exceptional flying skills and competitive nature. But beneath that cocky exterior, there lies a heart incredibly loving and caring, willing to sacrifice anything for his loved ones. Slowly, you find yourself drifting into a vivid memory, reliving the countless cherished moments and experiences you've shared with Jake.
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You recall that evening at the Hard Deck vividly. The bar was buzzing with the usual chatter and laughter, the hum of camaraderie filling the air. You were amidst your friends, enjoying the rare downtime when an unfamiliar voice cut through the noise—this stranger making an offhand but cruel remark about you. The comment was subtle, yet it stung deeply, rooting you in place with a mix of shock and mortification. Your cheeks burned under the weight of the ridicule, words lodged in your throat.
Before you could muster a response, you felt Jake's presence beside you, solid and reassuring. He stepped forward, placing himself between you and the offender. His usual easy going demeanor was replaced by a steely resolve, his eyes dark with anger. "Do us all a favor and think before you speak," he said, his voice steady but carrying an unmistakable edge.
The bar fell into an uneasy silence as Jake’s glare pinned the offender in place. "If you've got a problem with Y/N," he continued, his voice low and unwavering, "you’ll be dealing with me."
The tension hung in the air, thick and palpable. The offender, unable to match Jake's intensity, muttered an apology and slunk away, deflated. The moment passed, but the impact lingered. Jake remained there a moment longer, ensuring the threat had fully dissipated before turning back to you.
As he met your gaze, the hardness in his features softened, replaced by a gentle concern. He reached out, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. "You okay?" he asked, his voice filled with a tenderness reserved just for you.
You felt an overwhelming wave of gratitude, the initial embarrassment giving way to a profound sense of relief. Jake had stood up for you without a second thought, his protective instinct leaving no room for compromise. In that moment, you knew you were safe, not just physically but emotionally, knowing Jake had your back. His touch and the concern in his eyes reassured you even more, providing a solace that words alone could not.
.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
Then there was the night when you couldn’t sleep, tormented by insecurities that gnawed at the edges of your mind. It was long past midnight, and you found yourself seated on the deck of the aircraft carrier, trying to get some fresh air to clear your head before the mission. The vast expanse of the ocean and the cool night breeze did little to quiet the whirlwind of self-doubt swirling inside you.
The stars dotted the sky like tiny beacons, and the waves below gently lapped against the ship's hull, but none of it brought you peace. You wrapped your arms around yourself, tense and lost in thought, barely noticing the sound of footsteps approaching.
Jake emerged from the shadows, his silhouette becoming clearer in the soft glow of the ship's lights. He paused when he saw you, his brow furrowing with concern. He looked around, ensuring no one else was around, before walking over to you with determined but careful strides.
"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice breaking the solitude with an edge of worry.
You hesitated, feeling foolish for bothering him. "I…I just can't stop thinking about everything that's been going wrong. I don't know if I'm cut out for this, Jake."
Jake's eyes softened, and he lowered himself to sit beside you on the cold metal deck. "Tell me more," he said gently, coaxing you to open up. His voice was so steady, so soothing, that you found yourself pouring out all your fears and anxieties—the relentless pressure, the fear of failure, the nagging feeling that you weren't good enough. With each word, you felt a weight lifting from your chest.
Jake listened without interrupting, his usual cocky demeanor replaced by an unwavering focus on you. His eyes never left your face, and his expression remained kind and attentive. "You know what I see when I look at you?" he said quietly once you had finished. "I see someone who's brave, who fights every day to be better, who cares deeply about others. You're stronger than you think, Y/N. Don't let those doubts control you."
His words felt like a balm to your soul, soothing the raw edges of your insecurities. When he reached out to brush a stray tear from your cheek, the warmth of his touch and the sincerity in his eyes melted away your remaining doubts, leaving you wrapped in a cocoon of reassurance. Sitting there on the deck, under the endless sky, you felt profoundly grateful for Jake's unwavering support and the strength he helped you find within yourself.
.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
You also remember the time when you injured your ankle during a training exercise. You had insisted on limping back to your quarters, trying to maintain your independence. But Jake wouldn't hear of it. He had scooped you up without a second thought, cradling you in his arms as if you weighed nothing. "I've got you," he murmured, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic gentleness. The entire trek back, he kept you engaged in light-hearted banter, ensuring your mind stayed off the pain.
.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・゚.   ݁ ˖ ࣪ .
And how could you forget the morning he had brought you coffee? Not just any coffee, but a complex, personalized concoction—an oat milk latte with a shot of caramel, a pinch of cinnamon, and a dash of nutmeg, and no foam. You hadn’t even mentioned it to him before. "Thought you could use a pick-me-up," he had said nonchalantly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. But you knew the effort he had put into remembering such a detailed order, and it made your heart swell with an unfamiliar warmth.
These memories play in your mind like a cherished montage, each moment a testament to the man beneath the bravado. Jake "Hangman" Seresin wasn’t just the cocky pilot everyone else saw. He was a protector, a confidant, a friend who cared deeply for you, even if you had been too blind to see it before.
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Returning back to the present moment amidst the lively ambiance of the Hard Deck, surrounded by the warmth of friends and laughter, you notice Jake returning from the restroom. As your eyes meet, his familiar smirk emerges, but this time there’s a tender softness in his gaze that you hadn’t noticed before—or perhaps, hadn't allowed yourself to see.
“Miss me?” he jokes, sliding back into the chaos of pool cues and friendly banter.
You chuckle, shaking off the speculative thoughts. “Like a bad habit, Seresin.”
But later, as the night winds down and the camaraderie ebbs into a quieter hum, you catch yourself glancing his way more often. The teasing remarks of your friends aren’t so easily dismissed anymore. And as Jake catches your gaze across the room, you start to wonder if maybe, just maybe, they might be onto something.
Because sometimes, the most significant realizations are the ones that had been right in front of you all along, masked by the comfort of friendship and the chaos of duty.
You smile to yourself, feeling an inexplicable warmth. Maybe it was time to see what was beyond the camaraderie, to delve into the possibilities of what if. The thought lingers, like an unopened letter, waiting for the right moment.
For now, you return to the laughter and games, but with a new awareness, a curiosity that couldn’t be easily shaken. One thing was for sure—things were going to get interesting.
-
Text divider credits: @bunnysrph
925 notes · View notes
loving-barnes · 3 months
Text
LOGAN HOWLETT - VERSION OF YOU
A/N: Inspired by the Deadpool and Wolverine trailer. Inaccurate things when it comes to timelines and shit. Beware, it was not edited properly. Sorry.
Pairing: Logan Howlett x mutant female reader
Warning: angsty?, attempt at being funny?
My stories are written for mature audiences - 18+!
Words: 2500+
Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)
FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST
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LOGAN HOWLETT - VERSION OF YOU
“Do you think this is gonna work?” 
“Agent Smith said it would.” 
“It’s fucking weird, you know?” 
“A lot of fucked up things happened before. This is nothing compared to what I have to deal with now. So, ladies first.”
Wade pointed at the weird-looking orange door. He didn’t want to walk through them first. That fucker shoved Y/N right into the portal before he took a step forward. Coward. 
They appeared in front of a dive bar, during a bright sunny day. Y/N looked at Wade, well, more like at his masked face. “Wasn’t this place supposed to be fucked up?” she asked. “It’s too nice outside.”
“It will become in a matter of hours. Now, here’s the plan,” he said. “We’ll go in. I’ll talk first. If I won’t move with that stubborn mountain of a man, it’s your turn. Do whatever it takes to bring him with us - smile at him, have sex with him, for all I care. And, who knows, maybe we will know whether Agent Smith was right.” 
“I call bullshit,” said Y/N, cracking her knuckles. “I don’t know him. I think it’s a fairy tale he made up so I would work with you,” she said, fixing her tactical suit. “Can’t believe I’m doing this shit with you, Wade.”
He chuckled. “Come on, you love spending time with me, kicking ass, making men suffer.” 
“I will make you suffer.”
Together, they approached the entrance door of the dive bar. Wade was the first one to walk in. During the day, there weren’t many people around. Some people gave them brief attention but quickly went back to their beers. Y/N glared at Wade. 
“Our guy is right there,” he said, pointing to the bar. 
And there he was - their target - the man they had to collect to save the universe. Was it the universe or the multiverse? Whatever it was, he was crucial for this mission. 
Y/N eyed his back - the dark jacket he wore and how bent he was over the bar. The sadness radiated from him. Something was happening inside her. As if she experienced a magnetic pull towards him.
Y/N showed Wade forward to start. She was curious to see the man’s reaction. She sat at a nearby table ready to watch the scene unfold. Of course, Wade used a beautiful opening line that would normally get his assed whipped. 
“Hi, peanut.”
Y/N bit her lower lip to stop herself from laughing. This was Wade, typical Wade Wilson. Fucking Deadpool and her best friend. How the fuck did they manage to become friends? She knew him for a long time, fought alongside him and tolerated that dipshit. 
“Look, lady, I’m not interested,” the man said gruffly. His voice was deep, husky and kind of sexy. It made Y/N tilt her head. Interesting. 
It was painful to watch the interaction. Wade tried to get him off the chair, away from the bar before he could explain anything. Such a rookie mistake. It was time to intervene before Wade overstepped and jeopardised this whole mission. 
She got off the chair and walked to the tall, well-built man. With a smile, she tapped on his shoulder. He instantly turned, his weird metal claws already out of his hands, ready to fight. When their eyes met, she showed him her bright smile and teeth. “Hi, peanut.” 
His face changed from pissed to shocked in less than a second. For a second it lost its colour. The man’s mouth opened wide. “Y/N?” he said her name gently, too gently for her liking. “Holy shit.” 
“Ha, Agent Smith was right,” Wade laughed, pointing a finger at her face. It got him three claws into his stomach. It made him grunt and fell to his knees. “Ouch. That fucking hurt.” 
“You know me?” Y/N asked, not believing the whole story she was told back in the TVA. 
That question took him aback. “What kind of dumb question is that, baby? Of course, I know ya,” and his hands reached for her face, holding her cheeks. To Y/N’s surprise, she let him. “How is this possible? How are you alive?” 
It was Y/N’s time for her eyes to widen in complete shock. “Woah,” she stepped back. 
“It’s me,” he said, frowning. “It’s Logan.” 
Wade decided to step in, waving a hand at them. “I don’t want to interrupt this romantic reunion, but we need to talk to you, big guy. It’s important.” 
“You came here with the weírd-looking sex toy?” Logan’s eyes were back on Y/N. “What the fuck is this? The the fuck is going on?”
That made her laugh. “Ha, Wade, even he thinks you look like a sex toy. With Cable, we are now three who think the same thing.” 
“Fuck you, Y/N,” he spat back. 
The man, Logan, pushed away from her, glaring. His claws were in the air, ready to strike if necessary. “Who the fuck are you?”
“My name is Deadpool and this is my annoying friend Y/N,” Wade introduced them. 
“You are an ass,” Y/N glared at Wade.
“Impossible,” Logan shook his head, bumping into a wooden stool. “You are dead,” he pointed a finger directly at Y/N’s face. “You cannot be here. You died in my fucking arms! Who the fuck are you?” he raised his voice at her. 
“I’m Y/N,” she said. 
“Don’t bullshit me!” 
There was a sound of a loading gun. All three lazily turned their gaze to the bartender who was pointing a shotgun at them. None of them was intimidated by that. “Get the fuck out of my bar! Now! Or I will shoot you all.” 
“I think this is our cue,” Wade whispered. 
Logan grabbed Wade by the red top of his suit, pushing him out of the bar like he was a ragdoll. Y/N immediately followed them out, ready to step in if necessary. She wasn’t worried about Wade. He was immortal. His body parts would grow back. She was more ready to step in intellectually. That was something Wade didn’t know how to do. 
“Everyone calm down,” she said. 
“No!” they both yelled at her, already fighting like children.
Y/N looked at herself, reading this story and made a sour face. “Men,” she sighed and turned her gaze to the two men who were about to tear each other apart. A purple-looking mist appeared in her hands and she pushed the men away from each other. 
“That’s enough, gentlemen,” she said. 
There was blood coming out of Wade’s abdomen - the marks from the claws. She had to shake her head. Wade had his gun out, pointing it directly at Logan. “Will you fucking listen, you oaf?” 
Logan’s eyes moved from him back to Y/N. She saw how his stance relaxed. It was painful to look at her, see someone he lost. His claws retraced back into his hands. His fists clenched tightly, knuckles becoming white. “How come you are alive?” he asked. 
Y/N sighed. “Because I’m not her… me… uh,” she shook her head. “It’s complicated.”
“Fucking talk, woman,” he raised his voice. 
She raised her hand to calm him. “I can explain. But I need you to come with us, Logan.”
His eyes closed. When Y/N said her name, more emotions ran across his face. “How can I trust you? I can’t seem to trust my own mind.” 
Wade was ready to say something stupid, but Y/N quickly shut him up by throwing him away with her power. “Believe me, it doesn’t make any sense to me, too. I can give you an explanation if you will help us.” 
“Help with what?” he raised a brow. 
Y/N made a face, changed it to a frown. ”To save the multiverse?” she said it like a question, hesitant whether he’d believe her. “Before you say anything, I know it sounds fucking crazy. Trust me, I still have a hard time wrapping my mind around it.” 
Wade came running back. “That was rude, you know?” 
“Shut up,” she glared at him. “We need his help, so let me handle it. Just for once, Wade, I need you to zip it, okay?” 
He leaned closer to Logan. “She’s hormonal,” he whispered to him. 
This time, Y/N decided to ignore his comment. “Please,” she turned her gaze to Logan. “Will you come with us? Help us save our world, all of the worlds?” 
He scoffed. “I’m no hero, kid.” 
Y/N turned her head to Wade, then back to Logan. “None of us are heroes here,” she said. “Maybe that’s why we are meant to save everyone’s asses,” she shrugged. 
Logan pinched the bridge of his nose. “How come you are not a hero? You are the sweetest thing in this world. You are the definition of heroism and kindness,” he said. 
She made a face. “Come with us and we’ll talk about it all.” 
And he did. 
. . . 
Logan and Y/N sat behind an old-fashioned plastic table. He still wore his clothes while Y/N changed from her tactical suit to jeans and a simple shirt. The silence between them was awkward. The tension could be cut with a knife. His eyes scanned her from head to anywhere they were able to reach. 
There was a stack of documents and papers by her side. She grabbed them to show them to prove she was not lying. 
The door opened and Wade stepped in, out of his red suit. Logan gasped, horrified when he saw the man’s face. “What the fuck? Holy shit, that is fucking horrible. As if you were ran down by a Zamboni,” he yelled. 
“It’s disgusting, right?” Y/N nodded. But a second later a grin was on her face. 
“Ha, ha,” Wade pretended to laugh. “Can’t believe you two are laughing at a poor disabled man who happened to have his face fucked to safe his shitty life.” 
“That was your decision,” Y/N reminded him. 
Logan pretended to hurl. Y/N chuckled. “It’s hard to look at him.” 
Y/N smiled at her friend. “Could you leave us alone?” she asked. “I need to talk to him alone and, well, it takes time to get used to your face.” 
Wade pointed a finger at her. “One day, I will cut your tongue out,” he threatened. He was already on his way out. “Oh,” he threw her a little device. “If you want to show him something spicy,” he winked at her. 
Once the door shut behind him, Y/N exhaled the breath she was holding. “Now that he’s out of the picture,” she waved with a hand.
“Just start singing,” said Logan, annoyed. 
“My name is Y/N Y/L/N, but I am not your Y/N. I’m from a different timeline,” she started. 
“How are you, not my Y/N? You sound the same, you look the same. You have the same mutation,” he said. “And a different timeline? What kind of bullshit is that?” 
She shrugged. “Hey, I found out about all of this today, okay?” she then glared at him. “I, myself, have trouble taking it in. It’s crazy, it’s fucked up on so many levels. It’s not easy for me too, you know?” 
Logan huffed. “Continue.”
“This is going to sound crazy, so prepare yourself.” She took a deep breath. “I was told, and showed, that somehow, we are meant to be together in almost every timeline.”
“What?” 
Y/N made a face. “It sounds like a fucking fairytale.” Her hands grabbed the first folder, looking at its name. When she opened it, there was a photo of both of them. They looked the same. Y/N pushed her chair closer to him and showed Logan the details in the document. “In this timeline, we are both normal people. We live together in the Canadian mountains.” 
Logan took the folder and read the document. His eyes went over the photo. He shook his head. “Holy shit,” was the only thing he said. 
Y/N reached for another folder. When she opened it, she chuckled. “Here, you are a notorious mob boss,” she showed him. In the picture, he had an eyepatch over his left eye. “We live in Madripoor. People know you there as Patch.” 
“What about my version in your world?” he asked.
She sighed. “There is none. I said we are meant to be together in almost every universe. In mine, you don’t exist.” She turned to the documents and took out the one from her timeline.
Logan snatched it from her, reading through the words. “You are a mercenary?” he asked. 
“Uh, yeah,” she nodded. “Wade and I have a business together. He’s the only family I have. Well, Wade and his fianceé Vanessa. In the past, the Avengers approached with the offer to be in their team. I declined. That’s not who I am.” 
“Is there a world, uh, timeline where you don’t exist?” he asked.
“They told me there used to be one, but that timeline was destroyed a long time ago,” she explained. “Don’t ask me how that happened, because I don’t have an answer for that. You should ask Agent Smith that.” 
“Why do you keep calling him that?” 
“He looks like a character from a movie,” she explained. Her hand reached for another folder. When she opened it, she laughed. “In this world, you and are enemies that secretly love each other.” 
Logan’s brow raised. He read the details of their relationship. “You are on Magneto’s side?” he gasped. “I mean, she is… This is so confusing.” 
“Uh,” she hesitated for a moment. “When did you lose me? Or the version of me. You know what I mean.” 
“Haven’t you read that?” he asked. 
“Nope,” she shook he head. “I’ve got through a couple of those folders. I was only told that we were going to your timeline and that I was dead. Plus to get you out of there and convince you to help us.” 
Logan nodded. “You died…” It was hard to talk about it. “It happened a few years ago during a war that the mutants were in,” he said. “You died in my arms,” he cleared his throat. 
“I’m sorry,” Y/N whispered. 
“I live with that pain every day,” he continued. “And now, it is fucking harder than ever before, because here you are, sitting in front of me, but you are not… her.” 
At that point, she realised how difficult this experience was for him. Logan seemed like a tough guy. The pain that reflected in his eyes, how he avoided meeting her eyes more and more. 
“Everyone I knew is dead,” said Logan after a pause. “No one lives in my world that I care about.” 
Y/N bit her lower lip. “Logan,” she said his name softly. “We pulled you out of your timeline because it will be destroyed soon.” 
His eyes widened. “Wait, what? What’s going to happen to me?” 
“The TVA will present you with options. But if we save the multiverse, we will be rewarded. Or that’s what they told me,” she said. 
“It doesn’t matter. No one in my world is alive.” He stood up from the chair. “Let’s do this shit. I don’t want to waste anyone’s time.” 
Y/N put a small smile on her face. She wanted to show him more, tell him what they told her, what she thought of it. “Yeah, let’s do this.” 
964 notes · View notes
buckybabesonly · 4 months
Text
as long as we're together (does it matter where we go?)
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Summary: You don't want to be a burden to Bucky, knowing he has the weight of the world on his shoulders.
Pairing: Bucky x Female!OC
Genre: Angst
Length: 7.8k
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Two years ago
“I don’t think I want to be with you anymore.”
Bucky had expected it. Weeks of you being distant, making secret phone calls, avoiding his touches like they physically hurt you. Countless times Bucky had asked, what's wrong?, only for you to shut him down and say that everything was fine. Bucky was sick of hearing that empty, meaningless mantra, but it didn’t mean that he reveled in your confession now.
Even though it didn't come as a surprise, it still felt like a punch to the gut. It physically winded him to hear those words leave your lips.
He wondered what he did wrong. He wondered where they went wrong. They were so in love, so wonderfully content in each other's company. You were his person. Steve had once told Bucky that he would find someone unexpectedly, when Bucky made an off-hand comment about how lucky he was to have met Peggy.
“You’ll find your Peggy.”
Things had been perfect. Or maybe Bucky had just been in denial, ignoring all the problems between you because he thought that his feelings for you triumphed over everything, no matter what hardships you may have been suffering from. How could he ever face the reality that you might actually leave in pursuit of something better?
Now, Bucky’s chest was tight with an indescribable feeling, both of you stood in your shared apartment. Your belongings stuffed into a black suitcase, Bucky’s heart in pieces on the hardwood floor.
He had expected it, but it didn't stop him from wanting to die.
"Why?" It was all he could ask. He wanted to know the reason, wanted to understand. Wanted to know if he could fix it. He was desperate to make you stay.
Bucky stared at your face. You looked so...indifferent. Unattached, in contrast to the woman he had met all those years ago. Where had the softness in your eyes gone? Why couldn’t you meet his pleading gaze, even now? At what point did your feelings for him start to fade, and was there anything he could have done to salvage it?
Your face was a blank slate, emotionless, and it made Bucky feel a truly troubling combination of sadness and anger. It was as if you had already said your goodbyes to their relationship, completely ready to move on whilst Bucky was still trying to process your words. You were ready to leave him behind to mourn.
“I don’t think we’re right for each other,” you had said quietly. “I don’t think we can give each other what we need.”
"Bullshit," Bucky said, his voice cracking. You grimaced ever so slightly at his tone, still unable to meet his eyes. "How can you say that?"
He took a step forward; you matched it with a retreating step, but with wide strides he seized your wrists. He silently willed you to say something which could somehow lessen the excruciating pain.
“Will you just look at me?”
He wanted so badly for you to meet his stare, to find some source of comfort within your eyes which usually held so much love for him.
Finally, you relented and lifted your head. They did not fill Bucky with any hope. You pressed your lips together firmly as he searched your face desperately for any sign of residual affection.
"We - we're in love. How can you say after all these years that we're not right for each other? For fuck's sake, will you just tell me what happened?"
"People change, Bucky," you said softly. The look on your face - was it sadness, or apathy? "We've become too distant."
"And whose fault is that?" Bucky released you then. He was so angry, wanting to elicit some sort of reaction from you, that he wanted to punch the wall beside them. It made him feel nauseous at how stoic you were now, like a piece of unyielding rock. He knew you hated it when he took his anger out physically. You had been the one to teach him how to manage his rage more constructively, to talk things out and use his words rather than his fists.
"Are you trying to say it's mine?" Your tone was sharp, finally demonstrating some emotion. "Are you saying that all those nights waiting for you to come back home, all those evenings alone whilst you stayed at the Tower, all those hours I spent staring at the four walls of this apartment were my fault?"
"You left me!" Bucky retorted, gritting his teeth. "You left me long before today! You think I haven't noticed? You can barely stand touching me. You're always on your phone, always texting, always out seeing your 'friends'," he said, making air quotes. "I asked Wanda, she said you haven't been meeting her or your other friends for weeks. Who's this 'friend’? Who the fuck is it that's so important that you can't spare any time for me, never mind your actual friends?"
A long, pregnant pause filled the air, an indecipherable mask on your face once more. Bucky’s eyes were wet, and if he hadn't been so angry, he would've seen the way your lower lip was trembling ever so slightly, the way it did whenever you were trying not to cry. It had been the biggest telltale sign for him over the years to know when you were upset and trying your best to hide it.
He was usually so good at reading you, but he was blinded with sadness.
"Fine," you said eventually, slicing the silence with a shaky exhale. "I'm seeing someone else."
You might as well have struck Bucky across the face.
Suspecting it and hearing the words fall from your lips were two different things. He physically reeled back in anguish as he stared at you. He took in the sight of his girlfriend in front of him, swallowing the lump that was forming in his throat. This was, without a doubt, the woman he had met five years ago. The woman he spent five years loving. The woman whom he recognized no longer.
"Why?" Bucky whispered, all the fight leaving his body. He physically seemed to sag, forehead creasing at all the other questions running through his mind, visions of you being touched and fucked by some faceless, nameless man.
You were almost pitiful in the way you looked at Bucky, and he hated it.
"I care for you, Bucky. But I’m not in love with you anymore. And I'm sorry I had to do this to you. Things just got out of control."
I’m not in love with you anymore.
You offered no further information, but he had stopped listening, anyway. The finality in your voice pierced him slowly, tortuously, through the heart. He barely moved when you took your suitcase and pulled it out behind you, out of their apartment. Out of his life.
The door slammed shut.
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Present day
You are cordially invited to attend the wedding of Mercedes Knight & Samuel Wilson
Sam had become Bucky’s closest confidant in the past few years, and the latter had been a close witness as Sam met Mercedes ‘Misty’ Knight, a former NYPD officer who had somehow become roped into their crazy world. It was no surprise to Bucky when they announced their engagement just six months into dating.
Bucky found himself being pulled into their wedding planning discussions far too often. He tried to keep an amused smile at bay whilst listening into Misty and Sam’s wedding talk at the Tower. They were using one of the many conference rooms - a Knight-Wilson union was official business, Misty insisted.
"Are you bringing a date?" Misty asked suddenly in the middle of everything, the question directed at Bucky.
"Of course he's bringing a date," Sam smirked. "Heard things with Sharon are going well, right?"
Bucky smiled non-committedly, shrugging. "She's great." It didn’t go unnoticed by Sam that this didn’t quite answer his question.
"You two look good together," Misty offered. She glanced at her watch and widened her eyes theatrically, grabbing Sam’s hand. "Oh crap, we need to go meet with the wedding planner."
"But it feels like we just sat down," Sam complained.
"There's no rest for the bride and groom, Sam," Misty said, pulling her fiancé out of his seat as she waved goodbye at Bucky.
As soon as they departed, the smile on Bucky’s face dimmed. He was beyond happy for his two friends, he really was - but every couple he knew was a fresh reminder of his own failed love life.
Ever since you, he hadn't been in a long term relationship. Sharon is different, he told himself, and she was. They had been friends for a long time, and of course spent a lot of time together carrying out missions and the like. Over time, somehow, they had gotten closer, and one day Sharon had just asked him, “So when are you going to ask me out, Barnes?”
At that point, Bucky was still frequently thinking about you. Sharon had never met you before, but Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if she had heard stories about you from the others, since he had been notoriously affected by the breakup. Even though he was dealing with the aftershocks of the broken relationship, he was forcing himself to get past it.
They had been dating for two months now, and it only seemed right for Sharon to be his date at the wedding.
He had moved on. He was no longer the depressed, dark wreck he was when you left.
Sometimes it’s better to lie to yourself than to face the reality.
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“You invited Bucky’s ex to the wedding?” Misty asked curiously.
“Uh, yeah. She’s not just his ex,” Sam explained gently. “She’s my friend too, and I haven’t seen her since she left town.”
"You told Bucky?"
"Nope," Sam snorted, shaking his head. "I can't. I don't think he'd turn up if I did. I want them both there on the day - I'm sure they can be civil for one night."
“I wonder how Bucky will react," his future wife pondered.
Sam shrugged. Not well, probably.
"What else can I do? I can’t not invite her, I really want her to be there. You never met her, so you don’t know, but she’s been through some shit.”
“I know, I know, you told me,” Misty said. “I just don’t want anyone to get hurt. Do you think she'll be okay seeing Bucky again? Especially if he'll be there with Sharon?"
"She said she can handle it. She would be happy to see that Bucky was happy. She was the one who practically begged me to encourage him to move on."
“Do you think he has?”
Sam paused, considering the question carefully.
“He has to.”
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Several weeks later, Misty Knight and Sam Wilson were officially wed at the local registration office. The day was full of hugs, cacophonous laughter, friends and family, and Bucky watched with a wide beam on his face as he witnessed his friends glow. Those kinds of smiles were few and far between nowadays, but he was truly happy for once.
"They look so good together," Sharon murmured as hundreds of guests filled the hotel ballroom, the party commencing in full swing. The newlyweds were in the center of the room, Misty being twirled around wildly by a laughing Sam before his wife collapsed against his chest in fits of giggles, looking up into his eyes adoringly.
More and more people joined them on the dance floor after the conclusion of their official first dance.
"Barnes, would you like to dance?" Sharon asked suddenly with a smile, extending a hand.
Bucky chuckled, allowing her to take his hand and lead him out to the dance floor.
An hour passed, and Bucky had to truthfully say that he was enjoying himself, assisted by all the alcohol he had consumed. Sharon was draped all over him as they swayed to the music, and Bucky found himself appreciating the feel of her body against his all too much, the scent of her intoxicating. His hands felt the fabric of her silky, emerald green dress, buried his nose into Sharon's blonde hair, sighing softly as he tightened his grip on her waist.
Her perfume was strong and woodsy, like a forest. It irritated his nose ever so slightly. You had preferred a more subtle, floral perfume, one that smelt like sakura blossoms.
Sharon was more confident and seductive in the way she danced, whilst you used to always let yourself become putty in his arms, enjoying how he took the lead and managed to make you look like you knew how to dance despite your two left feet.
However, despite the differences, if Bucky closed his eyes and just tried a little harder, he think he could pretend that -
"Sorry to interrupt.”
Bucky pulled away from Sharon suddenly, and he turned to mock glare at Sam. "What do you want, Wilson?"
"Need to borrow you for a minute," Sam said, an undecipherable expression on his face. Bucky tried to see where Misty had disappeared off to, but saw no trace.
"Um, sure..." Bucky tried to read Sam’s face but gleaned nothing.
"I'll just go say hi to Natasha," Sharon said, giving Bucky’s forearm a squeeze before she disappeared.
Sam’s smile faded, and he caught Bucky’s arm in a vice grip. "I need to tell you something. Don't get mad, okay?"
"What?" Bucky scowled as Sam dragged him to the side of the room, weaving through the crowds of guests. "What good news starts with, ‘don’t get mad’? Are you gonna tell me you want to run out on Misty or something?" He joked.
Sam pulled him out through one of the open French doors which led to a pretty, outdoor stone balcony. He shut them behind him as Bucky continued to babble, a little tipsy from the champagne he'd had. "I gotta tell ya, if she asks me to kick your ass I will literally do so -”
"Bucky," Sam said, taking a deep breath. "She’s here." Meeting Bucky’s nonplussed eyes, your name rolled off Sam’s tongue in clarification.
He felt like the breath was sucked from his lungs as he stared back at Sam, who looked uncharacteristically anxious.
“What?" He asked hoarsely, instantly sobering up. “What do you mean?”
Chills were running through his body. The name he had avoided for years was suddenly causing him to feel breathless. How did you still have such an affect on him?
"She couldn't make it to the ceremony earlier today, but she just arrived."
"You - you invited her here? She’s here, now?"
"Yes," Sam replied, nodding. "I invited her.” He straightened up and crossed his arms over his chest almost defiantly.
Bucky was speechless for a moment, taking a step back and scoffing. He shook his head. “Do you remember what she did to me?”
“I'm sorry, Buck..."
Bucky suddenly laughed, startling Sam. His laugh was curt, humorless. "What are you sorry for? I'm over her, Sam. It was two years ago. I haven't seen her in two years. I don't care anymore," he said quickly. Too quickly.
"Listen -"
"Look, it's okay." Bucky raised his hands in small surrender. “You have the right to invite whoever you want. I’m not mad. But I just don’t want to be held accountable for whatever happens now.”
He turned and wrenched the French doors open with such force that the handle buckled slightly. The noise inside the ballroom spilled out to replace the painful silence on the balcony.
He disappeared inside before Sam could say anything else, and he tried to hide it, but Sam could clearly see that his hands were shaking as he marched inside.
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For the next twenty minutes, Bucky found sanctuary in the restrooms. He stood inside the stall, trying to stop himself from mentally collapsing.
He didn’t know what was happening. He had never felt this overwhelming panic rush over him before, immobilizing him. Anger, sadness and yearning swirling inside a melting pot of emotions that was crippling him.
She was here. The woman he hadn't seen in two years, the woman who broke his heart, the woman who betrayed him, the woman who left him in tatters.
Your infidelity had had an unforeseen impact on him. When he first found out, he was devastated. Terrified of how you became someone he didn’t recognize - or had you always been someone capable of betraying him, just good at hiding it?
You had poisoned all the happy memories they had once shared. Bucky found himself recounting all the years you were together, micro-analyzing everything, wondering if there was a hidden lie behind it all.
That was one of the things which made him angriest. You turned all the beautiful years of your relationship into a lie. None of it was real, Bucky had told himself.
You crushed him.
Of his feelings, anger prevailed, slowly simmering to the surface, like a volcano about to erupt. How dare you walk back into his life like this? He would show you, Bucky thought with determination. He was over you. He had no reason to be angry, he thought bitterly, because you were nothing to him.
Just like Bucky was nothing to you.
When he emerged from the toilets, the first thing he did was find Sharon. She looked relieved to see him, although confusion was clear on her face as she eyed Bucky.
"Where have you been? Are you feeling okay?" She commented, brow furrowed with concern.
"I'm fine," Bucky assured her. "Have you seen Sam?"
Sharon pointed, puzzlement still painted across her face, and Bucky snapped round quickly.
And there you were.
It was as if you had never left. As if the past two years filled with Bucky trying to eradicate every memory and feeling he had for you had never happened, because as soon as Bucky’s eyes found you through the crowd, everything came collapsing back down on top of him like an avalanche. Suffocating.
You were still so beautiful, strikingly so. Like a burning beacon among the crowd, Bucky’s eyes found your face as easily as anything. For a second, he allowed himself to ignore anything except you, and how the sight of you still managed to take his breath away.
You looked thinner than he remembered, your face gaunt. Bucky frowned slightly at this acute observation and found himself wondering if you had been taking care of yourself.
"Barnes? You okay?"
Bucky registered Sharon shaking his arm, but his eyes remained fastened on yourself and Sam. Neither of you had spotted Bucky yet, who was rooted to the spot like a statue. Sam’s mouth was moving, words that Bucky couldn't hear escaping his mouth, but his expression was angry. Almost as if he was scolding you for something.
"I have to...I..." Bucky stumbled over his words, voice faint. He could feel those tendrils of anger slowly seizing him again, wisps at first, until they grew more and more potent by the second. He remembered every single thing he felt when you left him, and instead of trying to hold back the emotions, Bucky just saw red.
"Let me introduce you to someone," he said suddenly, his voice strained as he took Sharon's hand.
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"You said you were better," Sam said, expression torn.
"I am," you lied, trying to put on a smile. Truth was, you were exhausted, just like how you always felt. The ballroom was so crowded and loud, and you just wanted to go back to the hotel and sleep, which you would the moment you finished congratulating Sam and Misty. And perhaps, even though you didn't want to admit it, you wanted to catch a glimpse of Bucky, too.
"Look at you, you're -"
“Sam, please don’t,” you interrupted gently. “Just drop it, please? It’s your big day, I don’t want you to worry about anything else.”
Sam opened his mouth to talk, but stopped suddenly, his eyes flitting to look behind you.
"Hey."
You froze. You knew that voice, of course. Heard it enough times, the deep, gravelly voice that had once whispered sweet pet names, proclamations of love, and plagued your dreams ever since you left him.
You had longed to hear his voice again, hear your name being spoken lovingly. His voice was your favorite sound in the world. Except tonight, hearing it for the first time in two years, you heard nothing but ice.
"Bucky?" You turned slowly, and your breath hitched. He was just the way you remembered him. Even more handsome, if possible. Clad in a sleek black tux, tall and dark and sexy, everything you had missed and dreamed of, and...
He was holding another woman’s hand.
"Bucky," Sam repeated, voice tense. Bucky could hear the underlying warning.
"It's been a while," he said stiffly, acting as neutral as he could. As if he hadn't spent months after their terrible break up being a shell of who he used to be, barely repaired even now. Bucky felt like any other venomous words from your mouth would shatter him again, but he had to take the chance. He had to talk to you, show you that he had moved on. He didn't care about you anymore, or how you so ruthlessly left him.
"Yes," you said weakly, smiling softly. God, he still thought that you looked beautiful, clad in a periwinkle blue dress, a thick coat draped around your shoulders. You were shivering, and Bucky resisted the urge to ask you what was wrong. Now that he was closer, he could see that didn’t look well at all. You had dark circles under your eyes and your collarbones were too prominent, your gaze devoid of any livelihood.
You glanced at Bucky’s fingers interlaced with a gorgeous blonde. You had seen her on the news before, you were pretty certain. Your smile forcibly stretched wider, blinking a few times, not knowing what to do with yourself.
"This is Sharon," Sam said, clearing his throat and exchanging introductions.
“It’s very nice to meet you,” Sharon said politely. She was gorgeous, you thought, watching as she sent Bucky a subtle, questioning glance.
Bucky was still staring at you, unmoving. You took the initiative first.
“Bucky, can we talk for a second?"
You could see the way he was trying to control himself by the way his lips stiffened, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. He gave a curt nod. He didn’t want to cause a scene in front of Sharon and the other hundreds of wedding guests.
“Let’s leave these two to catch up,” Sam said lightly, trying to hide his discomfort as he led Sharon away.
"So now you want to talk?" Bucky asked as soon as they were out of earshot, his voice sharp. You cringed, almost folding into yourself at Bucky’s hard stare.
"Yes," was all you managed to whisper, eyes darting to the ground to avoid meeting his glare. “Let’s go somewhere quieter.”
You turned and walked towards the exit of the ballroom, turning back to look at Bucky. He followed after a second, his jaw set like stone as you led the way to the empty lobby outside, away from the noise.
"It's been a while, Buck.” You voice was sad as you turned to face him again.
"Yes," he said, fighting an internal battle. He was so torn. Seeing you again made him want to wrap you up in his arms like he would've done two years ago, when you were still together. And feeling like that made Bucky angry. What right did you have to make him feel this way? Who gave you the right to mess with Bucky’s heart again after so long?
"How have you been?" You asked eventually after a painfully awkward silence.
He scoffed at that. "How have I been?" He repeated incredulously. He doubted you really wanted to hear about all those nights he spent in his apartment, refusing to talk to his friends, being a complete social introvert (more than he usually was) because he felt like he just couldn't live anymore. Not without you.
"Great. Fantastic," he said without a shred of sincerity.
You stared at him for the longest time, your lips pressed into a thin line. You looked so regretful that it made Bucky feel uncomfortable.
"I'm sorry," you said eventually, your voice wavering like you were struggling to breathe properly. "I'm so sorry for leaving you like that. We...we could have ended things better. You didn't deserve how I treated you."
You flinched when Bucky scoffed derisively. He dropped any remaining restraints he had previously put in place, letting all his feelings run free.
"Are you kidding me? Why? Why are you coming back here and apologizing after all this time?" He felt like he wanted to tear his hair out in frustration as he stared at you, making sure to keep his distance lest he found himself wanting to pull you closer. God, it was all so confusing. He despised you, and yet seeing you here in the flesh was everything he had ever wanted in the last few years.
He hated how you were making him feel.
"Look, it doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done," he spat through gritted teeth, all the while completely unaware of how your heart clenched painfully at Bucky’s scornful eyes. “Do you have any idea how unfair this is? You fucked up big time, disappeared off the face of the earth, then come back standing in front of me now asking how I am?”
“I know. You’re right, about everything. I just wanted to let you know that I’m sorry.”
“No. You have no right to do this,” Bucky seethed. “You have no right to come back here and try to - what, settle your guilt? Make amends?”
You didn’t say anything, choosing to let him vent instead.
“I still remember the way you left. What you did. I will never forgive you for that. So don’t you dare stand in front of me today with all this bullshit and expect me to have something nice to say.”
"You really hate me, don't you?" You asked then, taking Bucky off guard. You lifted your head properly to stare at him, and the look in your eyes was unsettling.
"I hate you," Bucky confirmed unwaveringly, his voice hard. "I hate what you did to me and by extension, you."
You didn't respond. You bit your lower lip hard, trying desperately not to cry in front of him. Your heart hurt so much.
It was the worst feeling in the world, maybe, seeing the man you loved so dearly tell you that he hated you. It was excruciating, the clenching inside your chest as Bucky’s words rang in your head.
"I know my apologies will never be enough. I just wanted to see if you're happy now," you whispered.
"I'm happy," Bucky replied almost immediately. "I'm happy with Sharon. Does that bother you? Did you hope that I'd still be pining after you? I'm not that pathetic anymore." The barriers were broken, and the hurtful words were falling from Bucky’s mouth, two years worth of it.
“I never said you were pathetic,” you retorted, slightly indignant. “I’m glad that you’re happy.”
Bucky was breathing hard, unconvinced by your words.
“And how's the man you left me for?"
"He...it didn't work out," you shrugged, trying to keep your face as straight as possible.
"Good," Bucky said harshly. "Because you don't deserve happiness." If he wasn't so mad, he wouldn't say such irrational things. But he just wanted you to hurt. He wanted you to feel all the pain you caused.
Bucky pretended he didn't hear you gasp. He pretended that he didn't see your eyes gloss over at the sheer amount of hate in his voice.
"Okay," you said finally, your voice clearly shaking. "Okay," you repeated again, nodding your head. Bucky watched you take a step back, away from him.
“I -”
“I'm sorry, Bucky. Please take care," you interrupted, smiling sadly before you turned and walked away as quickly as possible.
That was not how you envisioned the reunion to go. All you wanted was to apologize, know that he was happy, so that you could go in peace.
But maybe that was the consequence of your decision. Maybe he was just always going to hate you for the rest of his life and remember you as someone awful.
You didn’t know that all Bucky wanted to do was run after you. Tell you to stop. He wanted to apologize and tell you how he didn’t mean a word of what he just said.
Rage and pride kept him shackled, and he watched your retreating back, feeling like a coward.
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The last thing Bucky expected when he opened his apartment door a few days later was Sam’s dirty glare.
"You can be a mean son of a bitch, do you know that?”
"Hello to you too,” Bucky retorted.
“Why did you say all that stuff to her?” Sam asked, pushing his way past Bucky.
Bucky closed the door, knowing exactly who he was referring to.
"Why is this any of your business?"
"You acted like a dick!" Sam said furiously.
“Look, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done something like that on your special day. But-”
“I want you to feel sorry to her.”
"She left me,” Bucky exclaimed. "You were there, Sam, you saw how fucked up she made me. She cheated on me! You want me to apologize to her?” His face was incredulous.
“You’re so fucking frustrating.”
“Oh, excuse me for not being the bigger person,” Bucky sneered. “But you don’t know how she made me feel, Sam, so don’t you dare try to give me a fucking lecture now.”
Sam was quiet for the longest time, looking exasperated. He stared up at the ceiling, sighing.
“Bucky, look man. She never cheated on you,” Sam said finally, an apologetic look in his eyes.
The apartment became filled with nothing but the sounds of Bucky’s heavy breathing.
“What are you talking about?” He spat, realizing now that Sam knew something he didn’t.
Sam let out a resigned sigh, rubbing the back of his neck.
"I promised her I wouldn’t tell you. But fuck it, man, cause I think this is messed up. She’s sick, Bucky," he said solemnly. "Like, really sick."
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Two years ago
"It's cancer, Sam."
You physically couldn't cry anymore. You had done enough of that the day the doctor had told you, your eyes puffy and swollen. Funnily enough, the first person you had sought out wasn’t your boyfriend, but rather his best friend.
Bucky wasn’t even in town that weekend, and you really didn’t want to tell him over the phone. In fact, you never wanted to tell him. How do you tell the man you love that you're dying?
"You can get treatment, right?" Sam asked.
"I don't know. It’s not looking good. They're doing some sort of new clinical trial in England, but even that’s a long shot. I - I’m going to try, though.”
Sam sat up straighter. “And Bucky?”
"You can't tell him," you said firmly. You had thought about it all night, and you knew you couldn't let him know. You didn't want to put him through something like this. "My father had cancer too, Sam," you said softly. "He died in so much pain, he had so much treatment but it didn't help. He was throwing up all the time, having fevers, his body was so weak, and by the end he wasn’t the same anymore. I don't want him to see me like that."
“But-”
“No buts,” you said. You had given it enough thought already. You knew that you would have to be very, very lucky to make it through this - the end was essentially inevitable. There was no way you would make Bucky bear witness to you succumbing to this illness the same way you had to watch your father.
It was the worst time of your life. You had told Bucky about it in the past, as he had never had a chance to meet your father since he passed away years before you met Bucky. Knowing what you did, you would never inflict that same experience on him.
"So what are you going to do?"
"I have to leave him.” You had been preparing yourself for what you needed to do all night. "If I go, there's a chance I might not come back, you understand that, right?"
"Don't say things like that," Sam said forcefully, clenching your hand. "Just stop. Bucky will support you all the way, you know that!"
"That’s exactly why I have to go by myself. I can't be selfish, Sam. I want him to be happy. That's all I've ever wanted. I can’t make him drop everything to make me his number one priority. Looking after me will take time and constant care. If I go to England, he will abandon everything and come. Manhattan is his home.”
Sam looked anguished and you knew that he was disagreeing with everything you had just said, but you plowed on.
"It’s not just a matter of time and effort. If he stays, he will watch me die, and I don’t want him to do that.” You began to cry, and Sam hugged you, wishing he could say something comforting.
“It’s okay," you said through the tears, even though every fiber in your body was telling you the opposite. You had been repeating these words to yourself all night, as if you would believe it if you said it enough times. "It’ll be okay."
Maybe you were being stupid, but you didn't care. You knew Bucky loved you with his body and soul, as did you. But you weren’t going to let him suffer over your illness. You wouldn't let the person you cared most about in the world see you slowly deteriorate.
You had been witness to how your father was clearly in a depressive state, and yet tried his hardest to pretend to be happy and fine around other people. You didn’t know if you had the strength or bravery to even pretend.
You began distancing yourself. Stopped trying to make conversation with Bucky, until the long, endless, random talks you used to share diminished into curt sentences. You stopped waiting for Bucky to come home, simply pretending that you didn't care. You became more secretive, furtively hiding your calls with your doctor and your mother.
There was no other man. You loved him and only him, and had been nothing but faithful. You didn't know what hurt more: having to lie to Bucky or the fact that he so easily believed you would betray him like that.
In the end, you had really regretted fabricating a story of infidelity. You should have just gone your separate ways without making him think that you had been unfaithful. But at that time, you wanted to find a quick solution that would make Bucky voluntarily detach himself from you. It seemed like a wise decision, but you really, really wish you hadn’t let him believe that you didn’t love him. It was truly the worst feeling in the world.
It was all over in a few weeks. You packed your things and left, trying not to cry with every heavy step you took towards the door of your apartment. You knew you were making the best decision for them both, surely.
Time would heal Bucky, and he would be happy again one day.
It just couldn’t be with you.
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Present day
"She just didn’t want to feel like a burden to you, man," Sam said, shaking his head. "Why did you have to say all those things to her at the wedding?"
Bucky could register nothing else after Sam finished explaining everything. He was in disbelief, though he knew that there was no way Sam would fabricate a story like that.
Now, he could only think of the way he had shouted at you. The way he told you how much he hated you. The way you had left.
"Where is she?" Bucky whispered.
"She’s leaving today," Sam said tersely. "She’s going back to England. She was real sick for a long time, and she recovered a few months ago, but the cancer came back.”
He slipped a hotel business card into Bucky’s hand. “This is the address she’s staying at," Sam said.
He grasped it like a lifeline, eyes unable to see Sam standing in front of him. His vision was completely filled with images of you.
"Go," Sam said forcefully. "Go and find her.”
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The tears wouldn't stop falling.
You didn't know words could hurt so much. Sure, you had expected Bucky to hate you, but you weren’t prepared for the way every single word seemed to embed themselves into your skin like splinters into your heart.
They were once so happy. They were so perfect.
You hated yourself. Hated yourself for getting ill, for ruining what you had. The logic was irrational, but the self-hatred had become second nature.
You had spent the last few days holed up in your hotel. You had planned to use the time to see a few friends before returning to England, but you no longer had the heart.
You left your room that morning only because Wanda was furious that she missed you at the wedding, and you agreed to have coffee with her. She almost cried at the sight of you, but you put on a brave face, refusing to talk about Bucky. You begged her if you could just talk about happy topics and she eventually obliged, smiling sadly when you hugged each other goodbye.
“I’ll see you again, dear,” Wanda had said, and you hoped to God she was right.
As soon as you got inside your hotel room, you felt a switch click internally.
Everything hurt. You were tired, unhappy and you really didn’t know if you would ever make it out of this emotional blackhole. You felt so weak, like you would keel over at any given moment.
Cancer really was a bitch.
You kicked off your shoes and entered the bathroom. You lay down in the bathtub, fully clothed, turning the cold water on until you were almost completely submerged, wanting to numb all the pain inside your body and mind.
You eyes were red and swollen, and you couldn't remember crying so much since that day the doctor diagnosed you. Why was life so unfair? You wanted your old life back again. The life where Bucky didn't detest you, the one where he was happily and wonderfully in love with you.
You lay back, letting the water cover you completely. You closed your eyes, your hair gently swirling around your face. You opened your mouth and screamed, bubbles erupting to the surface.
Eventually you emerged, gasping and coughing, your tears hot in contrast to your frozen face. Your body wracked with sobs, shaking uncontrollably.
You sank back down into the water, your mouth opening once more to scream in uncontrollable rage. It was cathartic, your fists clenched into balls as you willed the feelings inside you to just - disappear.
When you opened your eyes beneath the water, you nearly gasped at the sight of a blurry, warped figure above you. You didn't have time to do anything when arms were suddenly encasing themselves around you, lifting you to the surface.
You spluttered and coughed, your ears assaulted by the voice that once whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
"- the fuck are you doing? Are you okay?"
Bucky.
You blinked past the water in your eyes, bewildered at the sight of him, kneeling beside the bathtub with his hands gripping your shoulders. His bright blue eyes were scared, wide open with concern.
You were startled at his sudden appearance, unable to say anything as he scooped you out, lifting you with ease. You were clearly in shock and scared.
You collapsed against him as he sat down on the bathroom floor with you in his arms.
"What were you doing?” Bucky was appalled as he pulled you close to him, watching how you continued to weep, blinking blearily at him. Your body was ice cold, every inch of you soaked.
He whipped a towel down from the railing beside you, wrapping it around your body as you shivered uncontrollably.
"Bu - Bucky?" You asked, as if you couldn't fathom why he was here. You were almost convinced you were hallucinating.
"Fuck, we need to get you out of these clothes," Bucky said, gritting his teeth as he tried not to cry. He had so much to say to you. He wanted you to know how sorry he was, how he didn't mean anything he said, but now wasn’t the time. He had to be strong for you.
You felt like a baby as Bucky removed your soaking wet garments until you were naked, then immediately swaddled you with more towels. He picked you up completely off the floor and took you out of the bathroom.
He chose to place you down on the edge of the bed, positioning himself to kneel down in front of you.
"Bucky," you whispered, voice thick, trying to pull away from him. “I think you should just leave me alone."
He stiffened. It scared him to hear you talk like this, to see you look at Bucky with such defeat in your eyes.
“No,” he said resolutely. “I'm here now, okay? I'm here, I'm not leaving, and I need you to be with me. I need you here, talking to me.”
"I can't. I can't do this anymore. Just go, please."
Bucky looked at you then. Really looked at you. The woman he loved and misunderstood for so long was now a trembling wreck in front of him, skin paper thin and trembling like a leaf. You looked so vulnerable and sad, and it made his heart twist.
Bucky suddenly held you tight against his chest, tucking his nose against the crook of your neck, and you didn't resist.
"Do you have any idea how much I hate myself? I hate myself for letting you go through this alone. I hate myself for telling you all those lies that night. I love you, I love you, I love you," Bucky said, wishing that you would see it.
“Don’t.”
“I wish you had told me. I would have helped you. You should have told me. I can’t believe you -”
You realized now that Sam must've told him the truth, and you sighed softly.
"I'm not good for you, Bucky," you whispered. "I will only ever hurt you, put you through more pain."
"I know everything now," Bucky said firmly. "No matter what happens, I will gladly endure it as long as it means we're no longer apart."
“Don’t be so stupid,” you said, anger tearing through your voice, though the tears were still falling. “I’m broken, Buck. I can’t give you a future. Please just find someone else - stay with Sharon.”
“Sharon?” If you hadn’t mentioned her name, Bucky would never have even thought about her. “No - we’re not serious, doll. She was never going to be the one.”
“No,” you insisted. “If not her, then fine, find someone else. Just not me.”
“Why aren’t you listening?” Bucky asked furiously. “I love you. I’ve always loved you. Please don’t do this. I need you." He was desperate to make you see, to make you understand. It was you or nothing. "You don’t know how awful the past few years have been. I don’t want to be apart from you, please.” He was prepared to grovel at your feet and beg.
He hated himself for how easily he gave up two years ago. This time, he was not letting you leave him.
His beautiful blue eyes pleaded with you, and you felt your barricades crumble. Your arms finally moved to wrap around him, and he felt a wave of relief as he encircled you in his arms. You had missed this, the feeling of Bucky holding you so tenderly.
You didn’t know if you were making the right choice, but you wanted to give in so badly and just let yourself be selfish and enjoy what time you could have together. And now that Bucky had you back by his side, he was definitely not going to let you go.
Even if they were in pieces, at least they were together. And Bucky was positive that they could put those pieces back into a whole, as long as you gave it a chance.
"You're so stupid," you said through your tears.
"I don't think so," Bucky said, managing the smallest smile. "Just stupidly in love with you."
You wanted to stay like this forever, entangled in each others arms. He pulled back slowly to study your face, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss against your lips. He kissed you again, deeper this time, breathing you in.
“You owe me two years of kisses,” he mumbled.
You laughed softly, but it soon died. First, you had a lot of talking to do. You used the following hour to tell him the details about your illness, why you had left, how sorry you were for treating Bucky the way you did when you broke up with him.
"You're so dumb," Bucky had said, sounding furious for a moment. "You had no right to decide something like that for me. You know I would support you.”
"I know, Buck," you had interrupted. "That's exactly why I had to leave. I didn't want you to see me die, okay?"
You had looked like you were about to cry again, so Bucky stopped scolding you immediately. He would never make you cry again, he swore.
"You're here now," he said, kissing your temple. "We're together now. Everything feels...right again."
You swallowed, biting your lip. "I told you, my cancer is back and -"
"You'll get better again," he said, refusing to look at you. You knew that tears were in his eyes. "You'll get better, okay?" His voice wavered slightly.
"It's worse this time, Bucky," you said. "Look at me. I'm practically withering away."
"You'll get better," he said, clenching his teeth.
You didn't say anything, just nestled against Bucky’s chest, relishing the way he wrapped his arms securely around your frame as if you would disappear at any moment.
Maybe he was right. Maybe by some miracle, with Bucky by your side, you would be able to give him all the time in the world.
"I'll try to stick around," you whispered.
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d-targaryenshoe · 3 months
Text
Books And Looks - Luke Thompson
Word Count: 1006
Summary: Some say even well-known actors can have a crush on authors, can they not?
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The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city as the cast of Bridgerton wrapped up another long day of filming for season four.
Jonathan, Claudia, and Luke Thompson found themselves at their favorite pub, unwinding with drinks in hand.
“To another successful day!” Jonathan cheered, raising his glass.
“To another successful day!” echoed Claudia and Luke, clinking their glasses together.
They settled into a comfortable silence, the camaraderie of their shared experiences providing a soothing backdrop to the evening.
After a few sips, Jonathan leaned back in his chair and sighed.
“It’s going to be strange going back to normal life after this,” he mused. “I’ve gotten so used to the hustle and bustle of the set.”
Claudia nodded. “I know what you mean. There’s something about the energy here that’s hard to replicate in the real world. But I am looking forward to seeing my sister again.”
“You have a sister?” Luke asked, intrigued.
They’d spent so much time together on set, yet there were still many things they didn’t know about each other’s personal lives.
Claudia smiled warmly. “Yes, she’s a few years older than me. We’re very close, even though she’s quite the introvert.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “An introvert? Doesn’t sound like anyone in your family.”
Claudia laughed. “You’d be surprised. She’s a famous author, but she avoids the spotlight as much as possible. Her books have a huge following.”
Luke’s ears perked up at this revelation. “A famous author? What’s her name?”
Claudia hesitated for a moment, then said, “Y/n Jessie Peyton.”
Luke’s eyes widened, nearly spilling his drink in his excitement. “No. Are you serious? She’s one of my favorite authors in the world! I’ve read all her books at least twice.”
Jonathan chuckled at Luke’s sudden burst of enthusiasm. “Looks like you’ve got a superfan on your hands, Claudia.”
Claudia shook her head, laughing. “Luke, she’s very private. She doesn’t like the spotlight, and she doesn’t do meet-and-greets.”
Luke’s expression turned pleading. “Please, Claudia, you have to introduce me. I promise I won’t make a scene. I just want to tell her how much her work means to me.”
Claudia sighed, seeing the sincerity in Luke’s eyes. “I can’t make any promises, Luke, but I’ll talk to her. We’ll see what happens.”
Over the next few weeks, Luke didn’t let up.
He would bring your name up in conversation whenever he could, his admiration for your work shining through.
Claudia found it endearing but was also protective of your privacy.
One evening, after another long day of filming, Claudia received a call from you.
You chatted about your lives, and inevitably, Luke’s name came up.
“Luke Thompson?” you repeated, surprised. “The actor?”
“Yes, the very same,” Claudia replied. “He’s a huge fan of your work, y/n. He’s been pestering me non-stop to introduce you two.”
You laughed softly. “Well, that’s flattering. I didn’t realize my books had such an impact on people. Maybe… maybe we could arrange something. A small, casual meeting. No big deal.”
Claudia smiled. “I think that would make his year, y/n. Let me know when you’re free, and I’ll set it up.”
A few days later, Claudia walked onto the set in full 'Eloise' with a secretive smile.
She had arranged for you to visit, and she couldn’t wait to see Luke’s reaction.
As they broke for lunch, Claudia spotted Luke and Jonathan chatting by the catering table.
“Hey, guys,” she said, trying to keep her excitement in check. “I’ve got a surprise for you.”
Jonathan raised an eyebrow. “A surprise? What kind of surprise?”
Before Claudia could answer, you walked onto the set, looking slightly out of place but wearing a warm smile. Luke’s jaw dropped as he recognized her.
“No way,” he whispered, his eyes wide. “Is that…?”
Claudia grinned. “Luke, Jonathan, this is my sister.”
You stepped forward, extending your hand. “Hi, Luke. Claudia’s told me a lot about you.”
Luke shook your hand, trying to keep his composure. “It’s such an honor to meet you. Your books have had such a profound impact on me. Thank you for your incredible work.”
You blushed slightly, clearly not used to such direct praise. “Thank you. It means a lot to hear that.”
Jonathan, sensing the significance of the moment, clapped Luke on the back. “See, dreams do come true, mate.”
You all laughed, the initial tension easing into a more comfortable atmosphere.
You spent the rest of their lunch break chatting about your books, the writing process, and life on set.
Luke found himself captivated not just by your words but by your presence.
There was a quiet strength to you that drew him in, and he could tell you felt a connection too.
As the days passed, your visits to the set became more frequent. You and Luke would steal moments to talk, sharing stories and laughter.
It was clear to everyone around you that there was something special brewing between you two.
One evening, after a particularly long day of filming, Luke and you found yourselves alone on set.
The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over everything.
You sat on a bench, enjoying the peaceful silence.
“You know,” Luke began, “I never imagined I’d get to meet you, let alone spend so much time with you. It feels like a dream.”
You smiled, your eyes reflecting the fading light. “Life has a funny way of surprising us, doesn’t it? I never thought I’d enjoy being on a set, but here I am.”
Luke took a deep breath, gathering his courage. “Listen, I know we haven’t known each other for very long, but I’d love to get to know you better, outside of all this.”
You looked at him, your expression softening. “I feel the same way. I’d like that very much.”
You shared a smile, the unspoken promise of something more hanging in the air.
As the first stars appeared in the night sky, Luke reached for your hand, and you didn’t pull away.
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totheblood · 4 months
Text
shiver | s.r.
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pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: spencer would do anything for you, but doesn't understand why you have pulled away from him.
warnings: angst, avoidant!reader
a/n: gonna be so honest i wanted this to be a series but i ended up hating it like 2k words in so that's why the end is so good... if people like it i will do a part two but oh my god its so bad and rushed towards the end... but this one is for my avoidantly attached girlies!! i see u and i love u and i am also sorry.. reblogs, asks, and replies are so appreciated and encouraged! thank u kisses.. PLEASE SEND SPENCER REQUESTSS!!!
wc: 3.1k
"So I look in your direction But you pay me no attention, do you?."
The hum of the air condition rang through the bullpen as Spencer studied you from his desk. With your hand in your hair, absentmindedly reading files with your body slumped forward, you looked unbelievably and unmistakably tired.
 It was another late night doing paperwork from last week's case, and nearly everyone was running on caffeine and pure luck. Spencer had finished his work an hour, thirty four minutes, and eight seconds ago but he still found himself glued to his chair and taking on JJ’s leftover work. All so he could silently watch over you from his desk. 
He didn't quite understand his fascination with you. It was almost embarrassing how he hung onto your every word you said, willing to do any and everything you wanted him to. But it was more embarrassing that you never paid him that same attention. Well, that wasn't completely true when he first met you, but as the months went on he could feel your attention from him drifting. 
When you first started at the BAU last year you were shy and timid, but Spencer noticed the small chuckles that escaped from your lips at his complex jokes and how your eyes watched him as he spewed some random fact that the rest of the team groaned at. You used to hang onto every word he said, asking him follow up questions with your pupils dilated. 
It was natural how you gravitated towards him. He was the only one on the team remotely close to your age, and like you, he was a bonafide genius. But you always wanted to know more and he always wanted to tell you more. It was innocent and pure, the way he thought about you, until you started to pull away. 
Spencer knew the chemical reaction that occurs in the brain when someone who used to give you attention pulls away. It creates a pattern similar to drug addiction, something he was all too familiar with, and it had started to get all too familiar for him to know how to properly deal with it. It had reached the point where he was counting each glance you gave him, the small way the corners of your mouth quirked up when you spoke to him, and even to the point where he was keeping track of how many words you uttered to him daily. 
He tracked it too. Your conversations with him had been on a steep decline since February, and now in late May he found himself wondering what he had done wrong. He had known the path he was leading himself down was one he shouldn't continue, but he couldn't care. His brain was operating for him, and he was succumbing to his worst fears. 
His brain made any attempts to rationalize your behavior, none of which calmed his anxiety. Maybe he was too clingy, always opting to sit next to you on the jet, or partner up with you in the field. Maybe he had said the wrong thing, something that made you immediately sick of him. Maybe you started seeing someone. The last one bothered Spencer the most, but he couldn't understand why. 
Spencer did everything he could to convince himself he didn't have a crush on you. As juvenile as it sounds was as juvenile as he felt every time his cheeks tinged pink when you spoke to him. He tried to convince himself that he didn't actually ‘like’ you, he just was preoccupied with you. It was your behavior that triggered his attachment style, it wasn't that he liked you. 
And as much as he wanted it to be true, he knew it wasn't. He was infatuated the moment he met you. Spencer knew he could never forget anything, but he knew for sure he would never forget your face. He traced in his mind over and over again, the way your whole face lit up when you ate something sugary, how your eyes blinked up at him when you spoke, and how you would drag your teeth in between your lips whenever you were focused. He'd find himself finding any excuse to be close to you. 
Spencer had once made a vow to himself that he would never pretend to be stupid. Not for anyone, and especially not for a girl. Which is why he almost physically smacked himself when he pretended to not have read a book by Jane Austen just so he could have something to talk to you about. He had read her entire collection when he was eight, yet he still found himself agreeing to read it and tell you how he liked it. He never forgot a word of the book “Emma,” but he still found himself rereading it for you. That was how much power you had over him. A power you seemed to be unaware of. 
6 months ago - November
“So, did you read it?” you questioned, arm pressing into the hardword of his desk, eyes wide and waiting. He didn't notice you at first, which was a first for him, making him jump as he turned to face you. 
“I did,” he answered, lips in a tight smile as he set his pen down, “I still have no idea why everyone seems to love Mr. Knightley. He strikes me as being a bully. I liked Frank Churchill far more.”
“Please,” you scoff rolling your eyes, “Churchill, seriously? All he had were his good looks. He was a total ass!” Your use of ‘ass’ earned a genuine smile from Spencer, whos eyes lit up as he spoke. 
“He wasn’t the most sincere,” he starts, shaking his head, “but he still had a far better personality than Knightley. I’d sooner date Frank Churchill over Mr Knightley. At least Frank had a sense of humor.”
“That's true, I guess,” you agreed looking down at his pristine desk. All he had on it were closed case files and a framed photograph of him and the team on it. You weren't in it but you studied it quickly, noticing how Spencer stared a brunette in the picture. Whoever it was, he was looking at her like she held the world in her hands. You would be lying if you said it didn't sting. As if he could sense you deflate he sat up straighter, following your vision to the picture on his desk. 
“We have to take a new one-” he rushed out quickly, causing your eyes to snap back to him, “You know, one with you… in it,” He pursed his lips nodding as he spoke again, almost as if he couldn’t stop himself, “You know cause now you're part of the team and this picture is old anyways. From when I first started here and as you can tell, I look completely different and it's time I updated it.”
“Who’s she?” you asked, finger pointing directly to Elle’s face. As you spoke you watched for any clues that would give you insight on how he felt about her. 
“Oh, Elle,” the way he said it made him sound defeated, like he forgot that she was in the picture, even though you knew that wasn't the case, “she used to work here, but, uh, she left.”
“You guys were close?” you questioned him, eyebrows raised as you watched him glance over at the picture before leaning back in his chair and putting all his focus on you. 
“Yeah,” he sighed, “we were, but…” his voice trailed off, as looked down at his feet, “we're not in contact anymore. She hasn't really spoken to any of us since she left,” 
“Oh,” you sighed out. You wanted to be upset that it was obvious he was enamored with her, but you just felt bad. The way his whole demeanor changed as he spoke made you feel more upset than anything, “I’m sorry,”
“It’s okay,” his eyes darted back up to you as his tight-lipped smile reappeared. He glanced back at his desk, before turning his body away from you, “I, uh, have some work I should get back to, though,”
“Yeah,” you smiled, standing up straight as you prepared yourself to turn around. You wanted to say something, anything, but you didn't. You just turned around and went back to your desk, something stinging brewing in your chest. 
Present Day
Spencer thought back to that day, wondering if his change in disposition is what made you change. It rang through his head as he tapped his foot, eyes trained on you. He was lost in thought when your eyes snapped up towards him, making him flinch. You offered him a small smile but it hadn't reached your eyes before looking back down at your work. 
The interaction made him decide that it was time to go home. That him sitting and staring was doing nothing for him or you. Standing up, he slung his messenger bag across his body, goodbyes prepared on the tip of his tongue. As he was about to speak Hotch exited his office, eyes meeting sympathetically with Spencer’s as he entered the bullpen. 
“We have a case,” Hotch announced, “I need everyone in the conference room in ten.” 
As the team flooded into the conference room, Spencer hung back, watching as you collected your things and trailed behind the rest of the team with a stack of files in your arms. 
“Need help with th-” Spencer began, arms outstretched towards you.
“No,” you replied abruptly, “I’m fine.”
It came out colder than you would have liked, causing Spencer to shiver, purse his lips and head into the conference room with his head hung low. 
“Our first victim was 35-year-old Leonardo Ruiz,” Garcia started, remote in hand clicking to display the picture of the mutilated man with his hands bound by rope and publicly displayed hanging from trees. Almost instinctively you flinch. You know it's the job but it never gets easy seeing the images. The man's face was distorted, slashed repeatedly with a knife until he became unrecognizable.
“He was reported missing after failing to report to his shift,” another click of the camera to show the abandoned patrol car, with the door open, it was obvious there had been a struggle, “His patrol car was found 2 miles from where his body was found in Arlington, where there appeared to be a struggle. Ruiz was missing for approximately two days before his body was discovered.”
“There was no dash cam footage from the patrol car?” Rossi asks from his chair, leaning forward as Garcia clicks the remote again.
“Exactly what I thought, but here's the creepy bit: There is no sign of another person on the dashcam footage. He doesn't even mention seeing another person, you can't hear the struggle, in fact there is no audio on the footage at all. Because three days before Ruiz went missing, his dashcam footage lost all audio. He reported it to the department and they were going to look into it but they were unable to fix it before Ruiz was taken,” Garcia answers, sending a chill down your spine. 
“So this was premeditated,” you speak up, causing everyone to look at you, including Spencer. You were still finding your footing in the group, trying to be useful to the group without saying the wrong thing, “The unsub is patient, willingly waiting for a perfect moment to strike. Could be revenge,”
“You're on the right track, pumpkin,” Garcia starts clicking another picture onto the screen, “That leads us to our next victim, Detective Luther Hodges from a different precinct was abducted from his home, reported missing for two days before he was found in the same way as our last victim in a public park,” Garcia herself winces as she looks at the pictures of the body strung up to a children's playground, “However this time our unsub left a witness, Hodge’s seven year old daughter, Lucy,” 
“If he left her as a witness, it could mean that he used her as a way to get him to leave willingly,” Spencer started, eyes squinting as he viewed the screen, “or he’s simply… devolving,”
“You’re absolutely right, boy genius,” Garcia starts, clicking the remote again to reveal a final body, causing the group to gasp. On the screen was Federal Agent Angela Barnett in the same position as the others. “One of our own, Angela Barnett was taken from a grocery store she frequented, and only kept one day before she was found in this state.”
“He’s devolving and rapidly,” Hotch says, closing his file and standing up, “Garcia contact MPD and let them know we're coming,” he commands, causing Garcia to nod a quick “yes, sir,” before rushing out the office, “I want to be out of here in ten,” he instructs the group, resulting in nods as everyone stands and begins collecting their things. 
“Hey,” Spencer calls from beside you gently, his voice close to being a whisper, “do you want to ride with me? I just got this new audiobook on the evolving traditions of the Amish and Mennonites on the East Coast,” he offers you a small smile that you can't help but mirror. 
“Oh, uh,” you look down, you know you’ve been pulling away but you can't help it, “Yeah, that sounds… interesting,”
Spencer can't help the grin that spreads across his face as he nods gently, cheeks tinged pink as he picks up his bag from the floor, “Great, I’ll see you then.”
The car ride was awkward to say the least, Spencer glancing over at you every five seconds as you started out the window, watching the passing trees. You drowned out the audiobook, too focused on wanting the car ride to be over that you didn't notice when Spencer had cut it off. 
“Is everything okay?” He spoke up, fingers tapping at the steering wheel as he kept his vision focused on the road. 
“Yeah,” you sat up, looking over at him and scratching the back of your neck, “I’m fine,”
“Are you sure?” he asked again, “You’ve just been… different with me. If I did anything, I’m sor-”
“You didn't do anything,” you cut him off, “I didn't realize I had been acting different,” you lied quickly, earning a scoff from him, “What?”
“The amount of conversations we have daily has been on the decline since February, decreasing by 4 percent daily in the last two weeks,” Spencer let slip casually, his own tone colder than intended, “Hard thing to not realize, especially for someone like you,”
“Someone like me?” You questioned, arms crossing defensively across your chest. 
“Someone smart,” Spencer looked over at you, “And I’m not stupid either, by the way. I would appreciate it if you just told me you didn't want to be friends outside of work instead of avoiding me like I’m the plague.”
You were silent for a beat, looking down at your hands, fingers intertwined with each other. You never understood why you got this way, why romantic feelings caused you to turn in on yourself. All you wanted to do was run, jump out of the car, scream, so you did the next best thing, “I’d prefer if we kept our relationship strictly professional,” your voice came out quieter than you would have liked. 
Spencer felt his stomach drop as his breath caught in his throat. He ignored the stinging in his eyes as he cleared his throat, swallowing harshly before replying, “Okay.”
The rest of the ride was uneventful, Spencer turned back on the audiobook and you allowed the blood to rush to your ears, drowning out the rest of the noise. The night was much busier than anticipated, all law enforcement officers on edge with the rise of a serial killer that put targets on their back. 
You spent a majority of the case avoiding Spencer, opting to partner with Derek on interviewing witnesses while JJ and Spencer built a geographical profile. When it was time to deliver the profile, you stayed back, only offering minimal input. 
Then, you found him: Jacob Raines. Jacob Raines had been a former police officer who was let go due to his use of excessive force and brutality. His rage and anger in turn got geared towards law enforcement, blaming them for his pitfalls. 
Garcia found an abandoned warehouse registered in his name in the outskirts of the city, where he was most likely keeping his victims before murdering him. The team dispatched to the warehouse, with you, Spencer and Morgan, entering first. 
You wouldn't have entered without backup if it wasn't for the sounds of screams coming from inside, and Spencer rushing in first. As if on instinct you followed after him, gun raised as you cleared behind him towards the screams. In the middle of the warehouse was a police officer still in uniform, tied to a chair with a tear stained face. She was crying as she plead for Spencer to untie her. As he worked to undo the knots you heard footsteps, causing you and Spencer to stand up abruptly. In front of Spencer was a 6 foot man, weapon raised and aimed right at him with his finger on the trigger. Based on the profile, you knew he would shoot and you knew he wouldn't think twice. He planned this, he knew the BAU would come for him and he wanted to take out as many people as he could. 
As if on instinct you pushed Spencer out of the way, a bullet aimed for his kelvar vest had made impact with your shoulder, piercing through it as you hit the cold concrete. Spencer was stunned but got up in enough time to take three shots at the unsub who had his weapon aimed and ready to shoot again. The unsub fell with a loud thud, but Spencer turned back to lean down next to your body that was growing increasingly colder. A puddle of blood had began to form underneath you and while it was clear it didn't hit any major organs, you were still bleeding out rapidly. 
Through the ringing in your ears you could here Spencer’s pained and rush voice signal over the radio, “Officer down, need medical, gunshot wound to the shoulder.”
His voice and hands were shaking as he applied pressure to the wound with his palm, as he urged you, “keep your eyes open,” he pleaded with you, “just stay awake until they get here,” he begged. But you were so tired, and your eyes were getting heavier, so you let them close. 
And everything went black. 
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a018233 · 3 months
Text
ೀ Identity v men with a s/o that sleeps naked.
Characters: , Eli Clark, Norton Campbell, Naib Subedar. Edgar Valden
content warnings: gn!reader, mostly sfw. Not really yandere, but can be read as one. Established relationships. Cockwarming in Norton's but it's not really sexual.
A/N: almost at 100 followers so I kinda wanna do a special. Someone should commission me and I'll write you whatever you want, give me sanrio photographer or buffy and my life is yours‼️‼️
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Eli was surprised after finding out, he's a little traditional and modest when it came to clothes, but oddly enough, he wasn't against it. Eli can't help but think it's a little cute and endearing, though. Mainly because he thinks he's at the point of your relationship where you're comfortable doing 'weird' things with him. His biggest concern is you catching a cold. Eli prefers to keep his sleepwear on, so he won't join you in sleeping naked. Though, maybe on a hot summer night, he'd strip down to his boxers just so he can spoon you comfortably without overheating the both of you. Eli likes having you relying on him whether you realize it or not, so he prefers to stay up until you've fallen asleep so he can cover you with a blanket, it's more a act of love and reassurance that you won't accidentally catch a cold.
After you started doing it, It didn't take Norton too long to follow. He likes the close intimacy he gets from cuddling nude with you. Norton is aware he's high maintenance as a lover, to him, it's total reassurance that he's the only one for you. Reassurance that you love and trust him no matter what. The type of intimacy only he and he alone can have with you. It gives him a little pep in his step the next day. It's something looks forward to each night. He looks forward to your shared nightly routine just as much as waking up with you. I'd think at some point you two decide to kick it up a notch with cockwarming, something to keep you two locked in place together. He finds nothing as relaxing than burying himself nice and deep inside you while his arms keep you in a tight embrace.
Naib already likes sleeping in his boxers, so he doesn't really have a reaction. At least, that's what you think when you go under the covers on your shared bed. He's internally questioning himself. Is it okay to hold you? Where does he even put his hands without it being weird? Is he even allowed to look? For the first couple nights, he doesn't hold you like he usually does. But after a while, he gets used to it. Although, he won't join you in going full comando unless he just got out of the shower and dried himself fully, but he's keeping his boxers on when it comes to sleep. Naib isn't one for opening up or heart to heart conversations but having your head against his chest, and your limbs entangled with his provides comfort for him. He's a mercenary, someone who has killed for his own benefit. So it's complete solace when you ramble in a sleepy voice about your day knowing you trust him wholeheartedly.
Edgar can't help but scoff when you join him nude under the covers, he's seen your nude form before. Your his lover and muse, of course he'd seen every inch of you. As much as your breathtaking, he's annoyed. He bought you a whole collection of all sorts of sleepwear made from the most richest material money can buy. Only the best for his lover, he can't have his muse wearing cheap clothing. Linen, silk, cotton, satin, and chiffon. With all sorts of designs he commissioned personally. Tailored to your exact size, some with your favorite colour's, colour's that match you. He even made sure the fabrics were light and breathable, and yet you choose to sleep naked? When the initial annoyance settles, he begins to feel a little flustered, yes he's seen you naked before, he has done full body portraits of you. But somehow this feels different. He can't explain why, but it feels more intimate than any canvas he's painted of you. Now, to him, it cements your love for him. That in the dead of the night, that you aren't his muse right now. But his lover. The one you love the most.
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angelkissiies · 2 years
Text
pretty little things
abby anderson x reader x ellie williams
cw : modern!au , hockey!abby , dealer!ellie , ditzy/girly!reader, mentions of drug use, polyamory, threesome, degradation, praise, use kink, dumbification, mind breaking, subspace, oral (f!receiving), slight mean!dom energy, other things ? maybe ? NSFR
wc : 5.1K
a / n : kinda went a little crazy with this one. my bad ! if you see any spelling or grammar mistakes, SQUINT
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“Hi, Ellie.” You smiled, holding your skates close to your chest as you leaned against her door frame. You were no stranger to the girl, a long-time customer, but also a close friend. Those words didn’t quite equate to the situationship you found yourself in, considering that you were already taken by the captain of the hockey team, not that she minded. 
The brunette bit back a smile, turning her key in the lock before pushing the door open, turning on her heel to look at you. “What did I tell you about pretty girl discounts? Bad for business.” She teased, waving you in with a playful eye roll, her words were empty- seeing as she found herself rarely charging you. “Usual?” 
You practically skipped into her room, bubbling with excitement as you placed yourself onto her futon. “Actually, I'm not here to buy-,” You paused, recanting the statement before continuing. “Not yet at least.” You come here with a mission in mind, well, more so a request. 
“What’s going on with you, doll?” She asked, raising an eyebrow as she pressed the door closed, dragging her conversed feet on the carpet as she came to sit in the chair adjacent to you. Her hair was tossed into a messy half-up half-down bun, making strands fall and frame her face as she leaned forward to assess the situation further, hands rubbing on the rough material of her jeans. “Is it Abby? Is she not cool with this anymore?” 
It was something she’d come to fear, seeing as most girlfriends wouldn't be so willing to let their girl get with someone else, though the past few months had flown by issue free- Abby joining the two of you on outings when she was able to. Given the history they had with each other, it was tense but bearable, Ellie finding ways to push down her attraction to the burly blonde- though secretly hoping that she’d make another move. But, she never batted so much as an eyelash to the triangle you three had going on, it terrified Ellie at first- thinking that somehow Abby was going to find a way to scare her off campus, seeing as she knew about her dealing. That day never came, which made her suspicious of the way you were acting now. 
You placed the skates down on her couch, leaning forward in a way that crinkled the pristine white of your uniform- making it look yellow in the sunlight. “Actually, it’s quite the opposite.” You hummed excitedly, eyes darting down to her lips momentarily before you corrected yourself, moving back up to meet her hazy eyes. “We talked and..” You trailed off, gauging her reaction.
“And? And what?” Ellie huffed, brows knitting together. 
You giggled quietly, lowering your voice as if someone could hear you. “She wants to make it official. You, me, her. Together.” You gushed, an excited smile splayed across your blushed lips. It was something you’d been talking to the both of them about forever, knowing the residual feelings they both held for each other after their not-so-secret fling freshman year, so to say you were excited was an understatement. “We’re gonna have dinner at my place tonight, to talk it over some more.” You spoke the last part like an offer, not wanting her to feel obliged to come if she wasn’t ready. 
Ellie gulped slightly, her lips parting as she searched for the words to say. It had been so long since she’d even considered the option of being in a polyamorous relationship with the two of you. It crossed her mind, of course, seeing as you tended to bring it up, but she didn't think it was possible- mainly the fact that she just assumed Abby hated her. It made the most sense in her mind, why wouldn't she hate her? Ellie was the reason she was outed as a lesbian, not that it was completely her fault but ‘let's fuck in the locker room and hope nobody comes in’ definitely had something to do with it. That was the end of their fling, the feelings just left to rot away- though in Ellie’s case, they did quite the opposite. They ended up growing into something untameable. “A-are you sure? That’s really unlike her-,” She began, only to be cut off by your hand coming to rest on top of her now sweaty one. 
“She asked for this specifically, I didn’t bring it up.” You clarified, watching as her emerald eyes lit up at the statement, though she quickly tried to cover the reaction by looking away. You bit back a smile, squeezing her hand gently. “Please come?” 
She nodded, almost too quickly, making herself dizzy as she stood with you. “Okay, yeah, I’ll come.” She spoke, giving your hand a small squeeze, shaking her head slightly as she tried to snap out of the anxious haze she’d dropped into. “Uh, anyways, you said not yet– should I bring a couple tonight? Is Abby,” She paused, words tightening as she said her name. “Uh, still cool with it?” She glanced towards the couch, where your skates rested, before grabbing them and holding them out towards you. 
You gave her a smile, nodding as you took tiny back steps towards the door– the sharp beeping of your watch now telling you, you were late. “Yes, please. That would be great, Els.” You hummed, taking them and practically bounding to the door, sliding out before you could let yourself get more distracted. The small squeak of a ‘thank you’ echoed as you disappeared down the hall, leaving the brunette in silence. 
What the hell? 
The day passed unreasonably fast, Ellie doing everything in her power to slow it down, resorting to working on physics homework– which only made things worse. For once, she actually understood the lesson and suddenly she was left with a stack of finished papers and a dinner date in half an hour. Her anxiety shooting through the roof as she paced her bedroom, a pocket full of weed and throat full of bile– there was no way she saw out of this. As much as she wanted, needed, to believe that Abby really wanted her again– something inside of her was convinced this was still some kind of sick joke, a prank orchestrated in rebuttal to the hell she’d ended up putting the blonde through. 
A buzz lit up her phone in the dim light of her room, the message reading ‘Are you on the way? I’m making dinner now. Abby’s gonna be getting here in like ten minutes, her practice ran over.’ 
Ellie’s heart leapt, pushing her into action, as her feet carried her into the living room– grabbing the nearest jacket and leaving her dorm in a rush of panicked puffs of breath. 
‘Yeah, leaving now! See you soon, doll.’ She rushed, heart hammering as her shaky hands fumbled with the lock on her door, finally managing to click it into place before speeding off down the hall. It was a fifteen-minute walk to your place off campus, making her internally kick herself for waiting so long, now having to be the last one arriving– something she knew Abby would notice. 
Fifteen minutes, which meant 900 seconds for her to change her mind and turn around. 
899.. 
Your practice had gotten cut short that afternoon, allowing you to go shopping and gather all the necessities for dinner– for that you were thankful, so as you bustled around the kitchen in a pair of shorts and a– painfully small, as your mother would say– baby tee, it was all coming together just as it should’ve. The smell of the cake you’d started baking on a whim filling the entire house with a soft vanilla scent, making you hum in appreciation. It was a welcome distraction, allowing you to focus on something other than the growing anxiety in your tummy as you awaited the arrival of your girls. 
As if clockwork, the front door lock snapped out of place and you heard the heavy footsteps of none other than Abby coming down the hallway. “Pretty?” She called out, a bag of sports equipment tucked under her arm. “Man, it smells really good in here.” She commented, turning the corner to halt in the doorway of the kitchen, letting the bag come down onto the floor with an obnoxious ‘thump.’ “Oh wow.” 
You turned on your heel, a smile pulling at your plush lips as you beckoned her inside. “How was practice, Bee?” You asked, wiping your hand on the half apron hanging around your waist before reaching out to her– pulling her into a bone-crushing hug. “Missed you!”
The blonde chuckled, pulling you impossibly closer, resting her head atop yours. She released a tense breath she’d been holding all day, the situation at hand being the reason she’d been made to stay so late at practice. She’d been so in her head, she’d caused the team to fall behind, therefore she opted to stay behind for everyone and pick up– that usually being a team effort, but she took it on in an attempted apology. “Missed you too,” She sighed, strong arms holding you flush to her chest. “Practice was good, long is all.” 
You nodded, pressing a tiny kiss to her chest as you pulled away to look up at her. “Are you sure you still wanna do this? We can wait if you’re not ready.” You reminded, taking in the lines of stress pulling at her eyes. “Ellie is practically shitting herself about this, so nobody would be upset.” You chuckled, alluding to the mess of a text you’d received just before Abby arrived– something about being stuck behind some college tour and being sorry for being late– not that you minded, you thought it was cute. 
Abby perked up at your words, taking a small gulp as she imagined the girl on her way over. There was nothing else she wanted quite like to call this all off, the idea of actually getting a chance to tell Ellie how she felt sent a wave of nausea over her, it had been so long that she’d begun to fear that the girl had lost the feelings they shared– that was scarier than anything that could’ve come out of tonight. “H-how did she seem?” She asked, words falling upon deaf ears as a knocking echoed down the hall– making her stomach lurch. 
“That’s Els!” You giggled, tearing yourself from her grip. “Could you put something on the tv? So you guys won't be bored while I finish up?” You practically skipped down the hallway, slippers almost making you slip as you lost traction, quickly making a move to fix the flyaways that fell from behind your ears before jerking the door open to reveal a slightly damp Ellie. Your mouth fell open, reaching out to pull her inside as you noticed the heavy rain that had begun sometime between Abby’s arrival and Ellie’s. 
She quirked a small awkward smile as she shuffled inside, instinctually kicking off her waterlogged converse. “Hey,” She began, glancing around inside for Abby before settling back in on you and the, now, contemplative look on your face. 
“C’mon, there is absolutely no way you can stay in those clothes. You are gonna get so sick.” You tutted, practically dragging her from the door and to your bedroom across the hall. If there was one thing you knew about the girl, it was that her immune system reminded you of that of a victorian child– frail and pretty much useless. “You can borrow my clothes, okay?” 
Ellie opened her mouth to object but decided against it as a chill entered her spine, not wanting to fall victim to another cold. Yes, the idea of wearing pieces from your– mostly– pink wardrobe was unsettling. But no, she wasn’t about to say that to you– she knew it would hurt your feelings. So she watched as you dug through a basket of folded clothes on your bed, freeing a (thankfully) non-cropped white shirt and a pair of cookie monster printed pajama shorts– pushing them towards her with a triumphant smile. 
“These will definitely fit you! So, change and then meet in the living room? Abby’s putting something on to watch.” You hummed, stepping back to the door to give her some privacy. “If you need some new socks, you know where they are.” With that, you backed out, letting the door come to a soft close behind you. 
The girl took a small breath, digging the baggy of pre-rolls from her pocket– thankfully double-bagged to account for the weather. “Shit.” She hissed, tossing them down on the plush white of your blankets– the contrast almost enough to make her laugh if she wasn’t so nervous. She shrugged herself out of her shirt, letting it fall to the ground with a moist plop. This was the worst day for this, not only was she late but she was now stuck wearing a pair of your pajamas– she almost threw up at the idea of Abby seeing her like this. Sure, it wasn’t her fault but as she wrestled with her jeans– she could've sworn her subconscious was laughing at her. “How the fuck did this happen.” She spoke into the empty room, sliding into the shorts you’d given her and letting them hang on her hips loosely. 
She ducked down to peer into your vanity mirror, exhaling in a short puff before navigating to the door– hand beginning to gain a tremor. This was it. Leaving this room meant accepting whatever fate was awaiting her outside. “Shit, shit, shit.” She whispered as she opened the door, exiting the room and b-lining to the living room. 
Abby was mindlessly scrolling through movies you’d saved to her watch list, hair now released from its tormenting braid. “Pretty, are you sure you don't need any help?” She called out, feeling useless as she just sat unmoving before the rapidly flickering screen. “I really don’t mi–,” Her words were cut short as she watched Ellie appear in the doorway. “Hi.” 
She froze in her step, giving the blonde an awkward smile. “Hey, Abby.” She said simply, tugging the ends of the shirt down further to account for the lack of coverage on her legs as she glanced around for a place to sit– but only coming up on the cushion beside the burly woman. “Do you mind if i–?” She asked, nodding towards the space next to her. 
“Yeah, yeah. Go ahead.” Abby responded, scooting over to give her some more space, tearing her eyes from the girls in fear she might see right through the ‘chill girl’ act she was putting on. Her hands came to rest on her lap, the remote almost completely forgotten, wringing her fingers together anxiously. “Nice outfit.” She joked halfheartedly, giving a small nod to the tiny cookie print poking out from under her shirt. 
Ellie let a small laugh pull from her lips, the anxiety easing slightly as she found some common ground. “Yeah, thanks. It’s sesame street couture.” She clicked her tongue against her teeth, pulling her legs up to cross under her as she sat down. “Probably should’ve brought an umbrella but, you know.” 
The blonde nodded, biting the inside of her cheek before responding. “Or, uh, you could call me.” She offered, glancing over towards the girl for a second– their eyes meeting. “I could pick you up next time.” 
She felt her heart clench, a sudden urge to explode entering her stomach. “No, no. That’s okay, I don’t want to bother you.” She could’ve died on the spot, the breaking in her voice betraying her private thoughts, face flushing. This was so stupid, she felt so fucking stupid, here Abby was being the most relaxed person alive and she was stumbling over simple sentences just by being in the girls' vicinity. 
“It’s no problem to me, really, just call.” Abby pushed, eyes shifting down to the girl's lips before she corrected herself— snapping back up to meet her eyes. Something inside of her felt familiar, an age-old ache that arose in her chest at the lingering glances and nervous laughter “Ellie, I—,” 
“Abby—,” 
They both paused, incredulous laughter falling from their lips at the coincidence. 
“Sorry, you go first.” 
“No, no. I insist.”
Ellie reached over to punch the girl playfully on the shoulder when her wrist was caught in Abby’s hand— the sudden change in her approach sent a lump into her throat. Did she do something wrong? Was she moving too fast? “Oh, I’m sorry,” she began, coughing slightly to dispel the tension that now surrounded them. “I didn’t mean to—,” 
Abby couldn’t resist it anymore, using her grip on the girl's wrist to jerk her forward— their lips crashing together in a surprised mess of spit and teeth. She’d gone so long under the anxiety of being around Ellie that she’d begun to forget the longing she had for her. Though, upon seeing her it was like that spark had relit itself— sending an undying hunger into her stomach as she begged for just a single taste of what their love was. “Fuck, sorry.” She huffed, trying to pry herself away from the stunned girl before her. 
The brunette watched, bewildered, as Abby inched away from her lips— hands moving up to secure in her black t-shirt. She pulled her back down and onto her lips, muscles relaxing as she finally realized how badly she needed her. This was what she’d been searching for— no amount of girls or parties or weed had ever filled the gaps in her chest like she could. She sunk back against the arm of the couch, hands moving fervently across the solid surface of her chest, lips bruising from the force of the kiss. 
You’d finally taken the cake from the oven, its slight golden color making a pleased smile arise on your lips as you replaced the empty oven rack with a small casserole dish containing what was going to be the night's dinner. Your fingers hovered over the dials, lip pulling from between your teeth as you clicked it to 400 degrees, hoping that it could be done in thirty minutes.
The house felt a little too quiet all of a sudden, making your brows knit together as you considered the possibility that Ellie had left. Surely that wasn’t the reason for the silence, you’d have heard the door— right? 
You abandoned your post in the kitchen, untying your apron and leaving it on the counter as you stalked into the hall— glancing down towards your bedroom door. It was closed, as it usually was, but it occurred to you that you hadn’t heard Ellie come out. Maybe she got cold feet, you reasoned, tiptoeing down to the room and giving the door a small knock. 
Silence. 
“Ellie?” Nothing. 
You pushed the door open and took in the emptiness of the room, eyes landing on the pile of wet clothes she’d left on your floor before letting a soft breath of relief fall from your mouth. She was still here. You locked in on the baggy of pre-rolls you’d asked her to bring and your face lit up, bouncing over to the bed to pick them up before practically running down into the living room. 
You’d not had a second to speak before your eyes widened, landing on the two girls in a messy battle for dominance. The sight sent an ache directly into your cunt, your legs unconsciously squeezing together as you tried to silently back out of the doorway. That was until you tripped over the edge of the carpet and landed— loudly— on the plush chair near the door. 
Abby’s head snapped up, her eyes blown with a primal lust as her lips pulled back into a slight smirk. “Little pervert, aren’t you?” She teased, flushed face coming back down to peer at Ellie— who was catching her breath. “We have an audience.” 
The brunette pushed herself up on her elbows to look at you, tongue darting out to wet her lips as she smiled. “Let’s not disappoint her then.” She spoke, eyes eating up the slight tremor in your legs as you clenched them together tighter. “Let’s give her what she wants.” 
Your face burned bright red, the transparency of your actions making you feel dumb under their gaze. Yet, even as they tore their attention from you— divulging back into their desperate pursuit of each other, you couldn’t stop the ache growing in your stomach. “M’god.” You choked out, quiet enough to avoid drawing their attention off of each other. You could feel the warmth spreading in your panties, fabric sticking to your cunt uncomfortably as you rubbed your legs together. 
Abby was right, you must have been a pervert. No normal person would get this turned on at the sight of two girls kissing. They weren’t even doing anything, just kissing— and here you were, shorts beginning to feel damp from how wet you’d managed to get just from the sight. Your hand inched closer to your waistband, unable to shake the overwhelming urge to touch yourself, feeling beyond filthy. 
You felt eyes land back on you, your hand stopping just as your fingers broke the waistband and tore your mindless gaze from the flexing of Abby’s arms as they caged Ellie beneath her. 
The girl had a devious look in her eyes, giving you a small nod of encouragement as she watched your fingers disappear under the fabric of your shorts— nipples erect under the exposing t-shirt, it was like you were made to be seen. “Fuck, she’s so pretty.” Ellie panted, scooting up to a sitting position, Abby’s knee putting delicious friction on her cunt as she shifted. “Look at her, Abby.” 
Abby’s eyes lifted to take you in, a familiar flush in your cheeks as your fingers came into contact with your slick. “She gets wet so fast, bet she’s soaked.” She stated, fingers tensing in the upholstery of the couch. If it was up to her, she’d have you wedged between the two of them already, but it wasn’t just up to her anymore. It was up to them. 
“You like seeing us together, silly girl?” Ellie asked, her hands coming to cup Abby’s chest, using her two fingers to roll her hardened nipples. 
The blonde hissed, a broken moan slipping from her mouth as she broke her gaze from you and redirected it to Ellie. There was a moment of silent communication, a couple beats passing before Abby spoke. “Come here, pretty.” 
You whimpered slightly, fingers slipping from your shorts as you scrambled to get back onto your feet. When Abby spoke, you listened. “Y-yes?” You said quietly, bright eyes glazed over with lust as you tried to soothe the pulsing in your stomach. 
Ellie leaned back, opening up the middle seat to you, her body trapping you on one side— Abby’s trapping you on the other until you were flush against both of them. “How would you like,” she began, pushing your hair back from your neck— dipping down to press a couple opened mouth kisses to the burning flesh. “— to have us both, right now?” 
Your eyes widened, your mouth opening and closing without a sound coming out. There was something so dizzying about the situation, making your mind leave your body as you glanced between the two of them. 
“C’mon, pretty baby, gotta use your words.” Abby’s hand snaked between your legs, cupping the soaked crotch of your thin shorts, a sinful groan escaping her lips. “Just say it and you won’t have to think anymore, promise. We’ll take care of you.” 
The feeling sent a pang of desperation into your cunt, causing you to nod fervently. “Yes, pleasepleaseplease.” You gushed, hands coming to ravel in Abby’s stretched t-shirt, mind swimming as she dipped down to catch your lips in a kiss. 
You felt hands everywhere. Having the two of them touching you in sync was like winning some type of sexual lottery— feeling their hot touches burn into your skin. You shouldn’t have been so easy, so messy, for them and you knew that very well, but you couldn’t help the mindset that seeped in with the slightest glimpse of their dominance. It was a drug. 
Ellie’s hand dipped under the hem of your shorts, and then your panties, before coming to drag two fingers over your swollen clit. She pulled her lip in between her teeth, stopping disgustingly pornographic noises from leaving her mouth as she felt her hand get coated in your arousal. “Good fucking god,” She scoffed, letting her fingers begin to massage the puffed ball of nerves. “You could be a pornstar, doll.” 
Your hips bucked into her fingers, craving more of what she was dishing out. A small gasp caused you to break your kiss with Abby, the noise eliciting from the girl behind you stuffing two fingers into your cunt. Your walls contracted around her at the sudden intrusion, slick dripping down her palm as she drove her fingers in and out of your drooling cunt. “Oh, god, Els.” You whined, letting your face fall flush with Abby’s chest. 
The blonde paused for a moment before a wicked idea came into mind, her body peeling itself from yours as she stood up by the couch— unbuttoning her jeans. Her fingers moved quickly, discarding them by the coffee table before winding her fingers in your free-flowing hair and pushing you down onto your hands. “Such a dumb girl,” she tsked, settling onto the couch in front of you with her legs propped open, fingers dragging down to pull her soaked panties to the side. “You think you can make me cum, pretty?” 
You nodded quickly, chest heaving as you crumpled under the pressure of Ellie’s fingers in your pulsing hole. “C-can. I can.” You shuddered, feeling the girl's fingers curl into your g-spot. The sight of the girl in front of you was enough to make your mouth water, her fingers now spreading the sticky folds for you. 
“Show me.” 
Ellie could’ve cum herself from the sight. Your back was arched in a way she’d only ever seen in porn, mouth now latched onto Abby’s weeping cunt as you struggled to eat her out through your whiny moans. It was like a wet dream she’d conjured up had actually panned out, the sudden realization that it was real making her clench around nothing. “Fucking hell.” She groaned, grabbing your free hand to force down her own boxers— your curious fingers coming to press into her clit. “Goddamn it, gentle, stupid.” She hissed, her words coming out harsher than she intended— but considering the way you clenched around her fingers, she took it as a good sign. “You like that? Want me to be mean to you?” 
Abby’s eyes rolled back at the desperate licks reverberating with moans, the sensation going directly to her clit. Her hands wound in your hair, hips grinding down onto your mouth. “Yeah, she fucking like that.” She choked out, legs trembling. “Stupid girl likes to be bullied, gets her wet.” 
You were seeing stars, the combination of Abby’s arousal on your tongue and Ellie’s fingers in your cunt were enough to overstimulate you into an empty space of submission. You struggled to keep up on Ellie’s clit, faltering with every hard thrust of her fingers, though you kept being snapped back into pace with the buck of her hips against your hand— allowing yourself to be used by them for their pleasure. 
“Just like that, doll.” Ellie rasped, guiding your fingers into her own cunt, practically riding them with how hard her hips were jerking. 
You dipped your tongue into Abby’s slit, using your nose to nudge her clit, feeling her thighs tense around your head. It was her telltale sign that she was close, hips jerking up to grind against your face. 
A sharp moan rolled off of her lips as she squeezed her thighs together, trapping you in her cunt as she came, her cum coating your mouth and chin. 
Ellie ground down against your digits, feeling the band rising in her stomach, chasing the climax she so desperately needed— her slim fingers driving in and out of your cunt despite the floaty feeling filling her head as she grew closer to orgasm. “Don’t you dare fucking stop.” She groaned, her head falling back as she fucked herself on your fingers, cunt pulsing. 
You felt Abby’s legs relax, her flushed face coming into view as she panted— eyes cast down to take in the sight of you. “Good girl,” she praised, raising her hand to wipe the cum from your lips with a swipe of her thumb, before bringing the digit to her lips and tasting herself— making you whine. “Keep being good ‘n make Ellie cum.” 
You nodded, eyes completely blown as you curled your fingers into her spongy spot, tongue darting out to collect the slick remaining on your lips. The feeling of tightness grew in your tummy as your body trembled under the pressure, a bubbling sensation beginning to spill over as your fingers spasmed inside of her— mouth falling open as your cunt clenched her slim fingers in between soft walls. 
Ellie gasped, thighs clenching around your hand as her band snapped, a gush of liquid soaking your hand as she leaned against the back of the couch slightly for support. “Oh, fuck.” She sputtered, hair sticking to her forehead with sweat. 
You slumped slightly, arms giving out beneath you, making your face come to rest on Abby’s bare thigh as she rubbed your hair gently. You didn’t dare to speak, fearing the words would come out as meaningless babble, eyes fluttering with contentment as you felt Ellie’s fingers slip from inside of you. 
“Wait,” Ellie spoke suddenly, making a show out of taking a deep inhale, her face going pale. “Does anyone else smell that?” 
Abby perked up, adjusting her underwear as she took a deep breath. “Oh shit!” She half laughed, sliding out from beneath you to dart into the kitchen. Much to her dismay, her speculations proved to be correct— a thick trail of smoke coming from the oven. “Ellie, uh, grab my phone and order in... I don't think this is salvageable.” She called into the living room, using your discarded apron to waft the smoke out of the room, making sure to click the oven off. 
Your eyes went wide, sense returning to you in the shock of the moment, searching around frantically as you dropped from subspace. “Dinner! I-I ruined dinner,” You began, looking up to the girl as she spun you around to face her— hands cupping your cheeks. “Els, I ruined it.” 
She shook her head, placing a soft kiss on your forehead. “No, doll. You didn’t ruin anything.” She affirmed, the pad of her thumb caressing your flushed cheeks. “You fixed something much more important.” 
“I did?” 
“Yeah, you did.” 
5K notes · View notes
satorusugurugurl · 5 months
Note
This is kinda angsty angst. But what about one where reader got into an argument with jjk boy (maybe either satosogu, nanami, or choso) and they stop functioning or start getting reckless during missions and get really hurt. And they have a lil soft smutty smut to show reader that they love them and want them to stay on this planet.
Maybe I Should!
Pairing: Nanami Kento x FAB!Reader
Warnings: Yelling, fighting, blood, near-death experience, makeup, soft sex, fluff at the end, romance,
Word Count: 3,179
A/N: When I got this request, Nanami was the first to come to mind! I love him so much this request was made for him.
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“You cannot take this mission!” Nanami snapped, cornering you against a wall. “It's too dangerous!”
“It's a grade-one curse! I'm a grade-one sorcerer; it’s an even match!” You shot back, ducking under his arm, reaching for your bags. “I’m not some fragile flower for you to protect.”
Nanami pinched the bridge of his nose, following behind you with a scowl. “This is not about me treating you like you’re fragile! I’ve read the case files! I’ve seen the damage that curse had done! This is way out of your league.” The room grew hotter with your growing rage.
“I can handle this!”
“No, you can’t!”
“Yes, I can!”
Nanami’s hand snapped forward, the veins in his arms and wrist flexed as he held onto you firmly. His touch wasn’t painful or too rough; it was gentle, allowing you to pull away at any given moment. For the first time since he told you you shouldn’t go, you stopped, turning to glance up at him. You were expecting to meet pleading eyes begging you not to go, to stay here. That gaze was nowhere to be found. Instead, you were met with a stern, cold look. One that just ticked you off even more.
You looked away as you yanked your wrist from his grasp. “I’m going; I can handle this on my own.” Your boyfriend remained silent. “I’m not one of the children at the high school.” A lump formed in your throat as you tilted your chin to give him a severe glare. “You tend to forget how strong I am. You look at me like I’m some pretty little weak housewife. I’m not!” Nanami scoffed; it was full of annoyance as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“Yes, I am aware; if you were my housewife, you would have the decency to at least listen to what I have to say!”
“If that’s what you fuckin’ want, maybe you should go out and find yourself a girl like that!”
“Maybe I should!!”
His words were like an ice pick to your gut. Those three words stole the breath from your lungs, rendering you speechless. Nanami’s honey-brown eyes didn’t meet yours; they glared down at the floor as he clenched his jaw so tight you could see the muscles in his neck twitch. You felt tears burning in your eyes; you struggled to find the words to say.
What was there to say? He had said enough. Maybe the two of you had grown apart from the missions you both kept taking. Perhaps this fight was the end of you and him.
“Love, I didn’t mean—“
“You did.” His eyes finally met yours; they were wide, full of confusion and regret. “You meant every word.” Tears blurred your vision as you wiped angrily at your eyes. “I have a plane to catch; let’s put a pin in—“ you motioned between the two of you. “us ending our relationship right now. I can’t focus on it when I have a mission.”
“Wait!” Nanami called out your name before you stormed out of the apartment, slamming the door.
The conversation, well, the fight, plagued your mind the entire way to Okinawa. His words, the anger that twisted over his face. Thinking of his reaction was a bundled mess of doubt and heartache that sat upon your chest and clouded your mind.
‘Maybe I should!’
Anger fumed within the deepest part of your soul as you lowered a veil around the abandoned shrine you were sent to cleanse. Maybe he should pull his head out of his ass! You weren’t that same high schooler that was a year younger than him! You didn’t run off to be a businessman! You stuck it out and got more scars than you could count! So maybe he should realize you could take care of yourself!
Your fuming anger blinded you as you walked through the halls, glaring around corners, trying to sense the energy of this stupid curse. But Nanami’s stupid face, the rage, regret, the sorrowfulness in his eyes when he said, ‘Maybe I should,’ left his lips crossed your mind. He turned pale when you told him you would discuss ending your relationship. Thinking about him, about what was to come for the two of you, had you stopping in your tracks.
Ending things with Nanami was the last thing you wanted to do. But he needed to come to terms with the fact that you weren’t as weak as he thought. You were as strong as him; you could handle missions independently—even grade-one curses.
A grade-one curse that came out of nowhere and slammed you against the wall so hard you saw black spots. A wheezed, pained gasp escaped you as your eyes widened in shock. It is a curse made out of thick thorns, garbling and swaying. You moved as fast as your body would allow, a thorny arm slashing over your back, causing a wretched scream to crawl up your throat as you ducked and rolled behind a pillar.
Blood soaks into your shirt, coating the fabric as you pull out your talisman paper. Using blood from your cheek, you scribble out ‘purify’ over the parchment before embedding your cursed energy into it. Blue energy flowed around it as you rolled out from behind the pillar, tossing it towards the cursed spirit. Despite the fact the talisman was written on paper, your cursed technique made all your talismans hit your targets like daggers.
As your talisman struck the curse in the center of the face, it screamed in pain before it dissipated into black smoke, fading away. You let out a pained whine as you limped forward, glaring down at its fading form. But as its mouth began to fade, it laughed. It was a laugh that made your skin crawl and goosebumps rise over your skin. Something wasn’t right about this.
Whirling around, you were met face-to-face with another thorn-cursed spirit. This one was larger and stronger than the last. Nanami’s words from earlier ran through your veins like ice.
‘I’ve read the case files! I’ve seen the damage this curse has done!’
Little did the both of you know, this curse turned out to be curses—two of them, both grade one. The first one was strong, but this one, this one was crazy stupid strong. If you didn't move, you'd be killed. You rushed forward, reaching for more paper in your pocket, only to be thrown across the floor, your head hitting the floor with a heavy crack!
With blurry vision, you slowly sat up before collapsing forward as the curse rushed towards you. Thorn-covered limbs and vines wrapped around your legs, yanking you towards it. Its mouth opened, and a large tongue lolled out as you hit the ground with every yank. You screamed in defiance, kicking and screaming, tearing your flesh on the thorns, fighting to grab a piece of parchment out. The curse only seemed to enjoy your pitiful wails as you wrapped around you tighter, its tongue slowly sliding up your back as you drew closer towards its mouth.
That was its first mistake; as it brought inches near its open mouth, you roared, slamming a talisman onto its tongue. The paper burned with cursed energy before the kanji ‘purification flames’ lit up, engulfing the curse in blue fire. As it burned, its grip on you loosened, freeing and allowing you to crawl back, watching it thrash and scream.
You stared into the flames, wheezing roughly as you groaned. A see-through version of Nanami stood there, glaring down at you in disapproval as you struggled to stand. The Nanami said nothing as you gripped your side with a weak chuckle.
“S-See, I was f-fine.” you limped forward, “I could handle it.” Nanami shook his head. “Dead as a doorna-Gaaahk!” Blood spurted from your mouth as a stabbing pain shot through your stomach. Stumbling, you looked down with blurry vision at a large blackthorn emerging from your abdomen. Your blood dripped onto the ground as the throne turned to ash.
‘You were reckless.’ The Nanami before you watched as you fell to your knees, your hands clasped firmly over your bleeding wound. ‘Reckless, weak, not even worthy of being a housewife.’
Either his words or the pain had you collapsing onto your side, blood bubbling out of your mouth. Nanami, your Nanami would never say that. Iron flooded your taste and smell as you watched Nanami fade. Nita came rushing in, falling to her knees and shaking you as you stared weakly into the distance.
Perhaps you should have listened to him instead of fighting with him. He was only looking out for you, trying to keep you safe. But you had taken his adoration and concern for you as him seeing you incapable of taking this dangerous mission on. A weak laugh escaped you as you felt Nita dragging you, screaming into a phone.
Maybe being a housewife wouldn't be that bad. It might have been fun. But you would never get to experience that. Your body was too cold as blood seeped out through your fingers as someone pulled you into a car. Your name turned into humming as you shut your eyes.
“Darling,”
“Hm?” You asked, opening your eyes before shifting slightly against the warm body you were snuggling.
“Hi,” Kento reached down, stroking your cheek with one hand while he held a book in the other. “Did you sleep well?”
“Mhmm.” you snuggled into his side, breathing in the smell of salt water. “I had a terrible nightmare. I almost died.”
Kento’s warm hand brushed gently over your cheek. “It’s a good thing it was only a dream.” He whispered, bring your face up to him. “I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, love.”
“Mhm, I love you, Kento.”
“And I love you.”
Slowly lifting your head, you grinned at him as he kissed you deeply. He was sitting on a beach towel under an umbrella. The sound of ocean waves crashing over the shore had you fading further into the reality you had made. Where you and Nanami finally got out of Japan and made a life on a tiny island somewhere far away.
A beach somewhere far away, where you could spend your days walking the shore, enjoying the sweet ocean air. This was a place where Nanami could be free. Somewhere far, far away from all the blood and death the two of you had faced—a little slice of heaven.
And it was a reality that didn't exist.
Blinking in your summer oasis, your vision became clearer. Ocean waves turned into the chirping of medical machines and heavy snoring. The warmth of the sand was the warmth of blankets covering you. And the smell of Nanami was because your boyfriend was sleeping in a chair beside your hospital bed.
Disorientation overcame you as you sat up, wincing at the stiffness of muscles and pain in your stomach. Your mouth was too dry, and your head was pounding. What had happened? Where were you? How long have you been out?
“Ken?” your voice was hoarse and broken, but the man next to you jolted.
Dark circles had formed under his eyes as he jumped out of his chair, his hands cupping your face. His honey-brown eyes, which had been filled with anger the last time you saw him, were now filled with utter relief. He pulled you into his chest, his hands gently stroking your hair back as you shuddered, a sob working his way up his throat.
“I thought I lost you.” He whispered, his voice broken. “I almost fuckin’ lost you.”
His relief was contagious; you felt yourself easing into him, crying softly into his chest as he crawled into the bed with you. His arms gently wrap around you, cradling you into his body. No words needed to be spoken; the touch and sobs you both shared conveyed every regret and emotion you both had been feeling.
You were lucky to be alive, thanks to Nita’s quick work and the work of the doctors at the local hospital. They kept you in a stable condition long enough for Shoko and Nanami to take the soonest plane to Okinawa. Shoko helped speed up the healing process, and you were released three days later. During those three days, neither you nor Nanami brought up the previous fight. Which you were grateful for until he helped you into your shared apartment. As he shut the door, placing your bags in the living room, you sighed.
“Kento, we need to talk.”
“Yes, we do.” he agreed, following you into the bedroom, where the two of you sat on the bed. “I would like to—”
“No, I'm going to start.” You interrupted, placing a hand on his chest. “Kento, I-I’m so sorry I acted as I did. I was frustrated and angry, and—” You swallowed hard, “I realized you were only looking out for me, and instead of taking your words to heart, I twisted them into something they weren't. S-So if you want to end this, to find a more ideal partner, I understand.”
Nanami gently interlaced his fingers with yours. “I said some terrible things myself. I know you're strong, love, and capable of going on missions and taking care of yourself. But I will always tell you the truth. If something looks difficult to me, that says a lot.” The truth hurts as you nod, swallowing even harder. “That being said, my agreement to find a more suitable housewife was immature and moronic of me. You're the only wife I want in my life.”
He cupped your cheeks, kissing you as softly as he could. “K-Kento? You mean that?” The words came out as a blubbering mess as he laid you down on the bed, fingers grazing under your shirt.
“Every single word, I love you; you're the only wife I want.”
“I-I love you too, Kento.”
Nanami gently pushed you back against the bed, his lips trailing down your neck as his hands gently ran up and down your sides. “I want to worship every part of your body.” Hands slid under your shirt, gently grabbing the fabric, tugging it up and over your head. “You're such a beautiful love. I adore you; you're the best thing that ever happened to me.”
You shivered as his hands trailed over the large scar on your stomach, gently caressing it. “K-Kento~” He sat back, allowing you to remove his shirt before he trailed kisses over every single inch of exposed skin.
“I want to make love to you. I need to caress you,
Feel you, and adore you.”
Nanami trailed kisses over your shoulders as he slotted himself between your legs with a groan. Seeing the arch you squirmed and arched against him was all the encouragement Nanami needed to keep going. He slid his hand into your panties, gently rubbing circles around your clit, making you buck against his hand.
“I can't lose you; I need you in my life.” His sweet words had you moaning louder than his fingers plunging inside of you. “It’s you; it’ll always be you, baby.”
Nanami was true to his words. He worshiped you with his tongue, fingers, and lips. Bringing you over the edge countless times before he finally began passing his thick girthy cock into you with a groan. Once the tip is inside, you both inhale sharply. Your eyes were boring into each other, fingers interlacing.
The air is thick with lust and passion as Nanami slowly sets a steady pace. He was continuing to slide into you before he finally bottomed out. His back muscles twitched as he groaned against your lips, staying buried inside of you as you lazily kissed each other.
“B-Babbyy~”
“Y-You feel so good inside of me, Kento~”
“And you feel fucking perfect wrapped around me, my love.” His lips find yours, slotting against yours in a deep passionate kiss; the sweet lingering fast of coffee and sweetbreads flood your mouth as he starts thrusting deeply into your tight pussy with a grunt.
Nanami is slowly and sensually fucking into you. His mouth against yours, both your whines and moans getting lost in the other's mouth: you had made life countless times before, but this time was different. It was different because Nanami put his entire heart and soul into each kiss and thrust. He was cautious of how tight he squeezed your fingers while paying attention to the quest your body gave him. The man was putting his everything into his movements.
And you could taste it, god, it was so sweet. The gentleness, the softness in his groans as he gently rocked into you. While his hands gently caressed you. This was perfect; it was the literal embodiment of true love. A love that you would never in a million years let slip away.
“K-Kento~ I-Im not going to last m-much longer.”
“Me neither.” he gasped against your mouth as his hips bucked faster, the bed creaking under the two of you with his thrusts. “Cum with me~ I need to feel you cum around my cock~ I need to feel it~ please love, please~”
“K-Ken~! Ken~!” You cried out in-between kisses as he fucked you into an intense orgasm. He gritted his teeth as your walls pulsated around him, drawing him over the edge with you. Your name left his lips like a prayer as he filled you with his cum fucking it as deep as your body would allow.
Kenton only stopped when you both were a sweaty heap of entangled limbs. “M-Mmm, fuck, I love you,” Kento whispered, pushing strands of your hair out of your face. “I love you so damn much~ please don't ever leave me.” he pressed his head against yours, breathing in every breath you exhaled as you both came down from your orgasmic bliss.
“I-I won't.” You whispered against his lips as he moved, grabbing your left hand. “I swear, Nanami.”
He shifted, reaching for something under his pillow. Your heart lurched as you felt him slide a ring onto your finger. Glancing down at it, you choked on your gasp as a glittering diamond ring shone on your finger.
“Say it again.”
“I swear I'll never leave you.” you kissed him deeply. “I love you~ I love you so much~!”
“I love you too, god I love you.” Nanami kissed you, his future wife, as hard as possible without hurting you. “We’ll be together forever.” His hips rocked gently into you.
You made love all day. Gently kissing each other until you both finally laid down to rest in the last afternoon. Nanami softly snored as he held you, and you just laid there, basking in the afterglow of sex and the elation of being engaged. Your diamond ring glittered in the sunlight shining through the window before you curled into Nanami’s chest, sighing happily.
Being with him like this, was your own personal paradise that you never wanted to leave.
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axelsagewrites · 9 months
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Aegon Targaryen*Daughter
Pairing: aegon x mum!reader
Word count: 1904
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Warnings: unexpected pregnancy, aegon having a bad reaction, absent father, mentions of alcholism and drug abuse, mentions of birth/morning sickness, aegon coming back
Part one here or read alone
Masterlist Here
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“Pregnant? You can’t be- you’re not- how?” you sat back as Aegon shot up from your bed, instantly pacing the bedroom as he tried to come to terms with it. you couldn’t blame him you suppose. After all you’d spent a whole week trying to convince yourself it was a lie and your roommate had to literally slap some sense into you. “But we were so safe?”
“Condoms aren’t perfect I guess,”
“But you were on the pill,”
“Its only like 90 something percent effective, look I don’t know,” you let out an exasperated sigh as Aegon looked at you with eyes bulging out his skull.
He walked over and picked up the test, “Maybe you did it wrong,”
“I didn’t do it wrong Aegon I did 20 of them!” you snapped, instantly regretting it as he sunk down on the bed next to you.
You went to speak but he finally broke the silence but broke your heart at the same time, “You’re getting rid of it right?” ‘it’. the words hit like a brick colliding with glass.
“I hadn’t decided yet,” you admitted in a quite voice but loud enough for Aegon to rub his hands over his eyes before dropping his head between his knees, “But we’ll figure it out Aegon. We’ll make it work,” you told him, trying to rub his back but he snapped back up.
“Maybe you can,” he said, his voice cracking, “Not me. I can’t be a dad. Look at me!” he said, standing up and pointing to himself like he was an exhibition, “I am a fucking mess I can’t raise a kid! Ill break it!” he said as he started to pace again.
“They’re not it!” you yelled back standing up too.
“Don’t yell at me!” he screamed as he turned around, his eyes instantly softening when he saw you stepping back, “I’m so- “
“Get out,” you managed to grit out through clenched teeth, “You don’t get to talk to me like that. Leave. Now,”
Aegon paused, his hand half reached out to try comfort you before he sighed and turned around. He headed to the door with his head hung low, “If you need me to go to the doctors- “he started to mumble as he reached for the door handle.
“I won’t need you. ever. You’ve made that clear enough,” you forced the words out your mouth even though they burned you to even saw them. You saw his heart shatter, but you didn’t care as you laid a hand on your stomach.
-
Telling your parents was defiantly not something you looked forward to. You told your best friend Heleana first who offered to fly out the next weekend to see you, but you insisted you were fine. She however insisted on being there to tell your parents to make sure you were okay. the whole time you refused to tell her who the father was.
“Who’s the dad?” your mother asked after a very long and teary-eyed conversation.
Your eyes wandered to Heleana. She reached for your hand and tried to say something, but you cut her off, “I’m so sorry Hel,” you whispered making her tilt her head. You cleared your throat and spoke up so they could all hear, “Its Aegon,”
Heleana’s grip on your hand loosened as her eyes fell to the floor. For a moment you thought you’d lost her too btu then you felt her hand squeeze yours again, “What did he say?” she asked but she could tell from the look on your face, “I will fucking kill him,”
-
It was the first time you’d heard her swear but not the last time it was brought up when discussing Aegon. You ended up telling her the full story later that night and she was ready to fly out and kill him. the only issue was no one knew where he was. Alicent was used to that by now though you could see it begin to weigh on her know he’d been gone for 3 months.
You however were now 4 months pregnant, postponing school, and unable to hide it any longer. “Alicent?” you asked as you awkwardly shuffled into the room with Aemond and Heleana behind you as backup. Aemond had sussed it out pretty quickly though was equally shocked by the father when you told him.
Alicent smiled at you from where she sat on the sofa reading her novel, “Is everything alright dear?”
“I need to tell you something,”
-
Alicent was silent as she processed it all before suddenly taking your hands with a teary smile but a happy one still, “Thank you for telling me sweetheart. Its going to be okay,” And for a while it was. Well, if you didn’t mind the morning sickness and ballooning to the size of a small house. That and still no one had heard from Aegon.
Heleana had helped pick out the decorations for the nursery in your new flat. Yes, a new flat paid for by Alicent. Well technically it was one of her rentals she had inherited when her father died but she decided to let you live there free of charge as well as telling you she’d help out when you decided to go back to school.
Aemond helped you get a job in the restaurant he’d been at for years and even though working as a waitress could be draining at the best of times you knew it would be worth it. especially now you were holding your daughter in your arms.
She was adorable with tuffs of blonde, white hair covering her perfect head. She was such a giggly baby, always gurgling away with a smile. Heleana had to go back to university, but Alicent made sure to adjust her schedule to have the baby when you were at work. Everything was finally feeling good again.
“Hush little baby doesn’t say a word,” you whisper sang to your baby as your nighttime routine with her, but she was already out from a long day at the park with her gran. As you laid her in her crib you heard the doorbell ring.
You froze, watching your daughter who initially stirred but luckily didn’t wake. You quickly padded to the front door, shutting the room to the nursery as you did. when you looked through the peep hole you felt your stomach tighten but still you reached for the door handle.
“Aegon?” you asked as he began to turn and walk away, probably assuming you weren’t in.
He spans back around, “Hey. I- “he began to stutter, “My brother said I could find you here,” you mentally cursed Aemond but stayed standing in the doorway, “I needed to talk to you,”
“Maybe I don’t want to talk to you,”
You saw the hurt in his eyes, but you didn’t care. well at least you tried not to. “I should go,” he muttered, turning to leave once more.
You sighed. Even if you hated him for what he said he was still your daughter’s father, “Wait!” you called out, wincing at the noise you made. Aegon turned back, “Come in,” you sighed.
He walked in in silence, sitting down on the couch you pointed him to as you sat in your armchair. You turned to the table beside you and flicked the baby monitor on. “How is she?” Aegon broke the silence with his head hanging low.
“She’s okay,” you paused but decided to go on, “She’s got your hair but my eyes and all she ever does is laugh,”
“Just like you then?” Aegon smiled softly, looking up as for the first time in a year you shared a smile with him, “I’m sorry. For what I said, for even thinking it,” he began, the smile fading, “I fucked up. Nothing I can say will fix it and I don’t think ill ever make it up to you,” he took a deep breath before continuing, “But I won’t be my father. I don’t want to only see her at Christmas and sign some cheque to pretend I care. I want to be there for her, and you. if you’ll let me,”
He said it so sincerely, but you couldn’t help the pit in your stomach, “What if you leave again?” you whispered. “I didn’t even know where you went,”
“I won’t,” he said firmly, “I know I fucked up. That night I left, and I ended up back at square one. Maybe less than one. All I remember is me leaving then waking up in a field surrounded by broken bottles. I couldn’t face you after. Not after how hard you worked to help me,”
“I kept it up for a bit, the drinking. Bounced around some houses sleeping on couches. Drank myself to sleep every night,” he continued his ramble, all while his eyes stared at the empty ground, “Then one night I was drunk again at a party and some guy offered me something. I almost took it. but something just snapped,”
“I checked myself into rehab the next day. Aemond’s been helping me, but he refused to tell me anything about you or well her. I couldn’t blame him. I was there for about four months. Got sober. Got better. Got another therapist. Ended up getting some jobs here and there. I work down at the Carstark Warehouses. Pays not much but enough to get by,”
Aegon paused again and finally looked up, “I really am sorry. I don’t expect you to forgive me or feel bad, but I am sorry,” he said as he pulled an envelope out his pocket, “Take it,”
“I don’t need your money,”
Aegon sighed as he leaned forward and held it out to you. hesitantly you took it. inside was letters though. You pulled them out. At least thirteen of them, you weren’t too sure as your eyes began to well up. Some were to you, but most was to your daughter. “I brought this too,” he said making you look up.
He was holding a white plush bunny, your favourite animal, with a bow on its neck. “I got it when I saw my mums post on Facebook with the baby. I thought she should have it,” he said as he reached out to give it to you.
You shook your head this time, “No. you should give it to her. not me,” you said as you stood up, “You want to see her?”
Aegon shot out his seat, rubbing the sweat of his palms on his jeans, “Yeah course,”
You nodded as you led him to her nursery, “She’s asleep so you need to be quiet. I don’t want to wake her,” Aegon nodded as you creeped the door open.
Together you both walked in and for a moment before you turned around you thought he might run away again. However, when you turned and saw his awestricken face staring at your daughter you somehow knew he wouldn’t. he tenderly walked over to the crib, a tear trickling down his cheek as he held the crib by its rails. “I can’t believe I missed her being here,” he whispered so softly you barely heard him.
“You’re here now,” you whispered back, rubbing a hand on one of his shoulders while leaning on the others. “Just please don’t leave again,”
“I won’t. I’m never going anywhere again,”
General taglist: @strvngestark @headinfantasy @meg-ro @427120lxld @obx-josie18 @ravenmoore14 @tessakate @justtilly @jjkjbhj @clairacassidy @valeskafics @meg-ro
HOTD taglist @jmii722 @hypocritic-trash-baby @starkleila @jacesvelaryons @sashadevil766
Part One Tags: @heavenly1927 @aemonds-holy-milk
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sugurufic · 7 months
Text
I Wanna Ruin Our Frienship (Geto x F!Reader)
Summary: You want to try out a tiktok trend with your friend who you maybe have a crush on
Word Count: 1.1k
Content: Fluff :)
masterlist
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You’ve been seeing this trend all over tiktok for quite some time, but you never got the time - or courage - to try it out. You had a not so low-key crush on one of your friends, Suguru. His beautiful appearance was easier to resist when you didn’t know him closely, but lately his soft voice, his pretty eyes, and his silky hair have been plaguing your thoughts.
So you finally got the time and the courage to try this trend on him, confessing your attraction to him in disguise. And you could use the trend as a perfect cover-up, in case he didn’t like you back. Easy-peasy!
You’re both sitting in the parking lot in your car, having just done shopping for your essentials, snacks, instant ramen, coffee and period care stuff. 
“Suguru, there’s this trend on tiktok…” You start, setting your phone on the dashboard and turn to him with your best puppy eyes. “Will you do that with me, please?” looking straight into his pretty eyes is never easy, but with the plan in your head it’s even difficult.
“You know I can’t say no when you look at me like that.” He whines, but the steady smirk on his beautiful face says otherwise. You love the way his bangs fall on his face, they compliment him well, you think. “What’s the trend?”
“I can’t tell you that yet,” you giggle. “I’m recording it just for us anyways,”
“Okay,” he relents with a sigh. “At least tell me how to act.”
“Oh, just be yourself,” you keep it vague. “I’d prefer your honest reaction,”
“Really?” he draws out, almost purring in your ear. You have to deliberately suppress the shiver that threatens to come down your spine. Sometimes, you think he does stuff like this deliberately just to get a reaction out of you. Instead, you grin at him, and press record on your phone and the audio starts to play.
Jenny darling, you’re my best friend, you lip sync, looking at Suguru’s smiling face in the video. You just pray that he hasn’t come across this trend yet.
But there’s a few things that you don’t know of, the song continues, and Geto turns to you with a confused frown on his brow. He looks you up and down as if trying to decipher you, to see through the lyrics.
Why I borrow your lipstick so often, you lip sync, and Geto wets his tongue, pretty eyes jumping back and forth between the camera and you, extremely confused at the lyric.
I’m using your shirt as a pillowcase, you continue, finally turning to him. You bite your lip as you think of your next move, body heating up in anticipation of his reaction. He’s looking at you now, foxy eyes focused completely on you.
Leaning forward, you put your hands on the collar of his t-shirt and pull him close so that your noses touch as the speaker says, I wanna ruin our friendship. You could swear he looked about as nervous as you felt and when you let him go without kissing him, he too had a pretty pink flush on his face, breathing heavily.
We should be lovers instead. He doesn’t look very happy with that. You’re scared that you’ve pushed too far, but then his big hand gently wraps around your throat and pulls you to him, kissing you properly. His lips fit against yours perfectly, like pieces of a puzzle meant to go together, so soft, so delicious and all-consuming. Geto has the best pair of lips that you’ve ever kissed.
You’re flustered, shocked, delighted and feeling like a dream all at the same time with the intensity of Geto’s kiss. His hand doesn’t leave your neck as the song continues to play, long fingers pressing down on your pulse point, making you shiver. The video stops when the time exceeds, and you finally pull back, nearly panting with the intensity of your emotions.
“If you needed an excuse to kiss me you should’ve said so,” Geto tries to sass you, hiding his pink face behind his hand. He’s playing with his bangs, a habit you’ve noticed he does when he is nervous. 
“I think both of us know who actually kissed who, Mister,” you sass him, suddenly feeling very confident. “I can still feel your hand on my neck,”
He clears his throat again, attempting to gather himself. His pretty eyes, usually full of confidence and looking straight into your soul, are averted as he asks, “So… did that song mean anything?”
“Only if this kiss means something to you,” you say, shying away from his words.
“Gods, I’ve wanted to do that for so long now,” he says, the tone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. If it wasn’t for his damned voice, he’d be easier to ignore. “I’m sorry I kissed you so suddenly,” 
“We both know you don’t mean that, pretty boy.” You say, narrowing your eyes at him with a smirk. You put your hands on his collar, pulling him close yet again to kiss him. He hits record on your phone once again, putting his hands on the small of your back to pull you as close as he can to the passenger’s side. This kiss is less intense than the first one, but so much more intimate - your lips move in a graceful dance, savouring each other's perfume, taste and the feelings that the kiss surfaced.
“Darling,” Geto purrs against your lips, forehead resting on yours and noses touching. “You should let me take you out to dinner first,”
“You need to ask me to dinner first then,” you whisper, lips brushing against his.
“I’m asking you now,” He says. “Let’s have dinner outside tonight, just the two of us. What do you think?”
“I’d love that,” you whisper before planting another peck on his lips then separating. You pat your thighs, getting ready to drive back to Jujutsu Tech. You can feel the change in the stale air of the car, but it’s a good change. Geto takes your phone to send the tiktoks to himself, grinning like an idiot. You like Suguru just a bit too much, and you hope that he likes you a bit too much too. But there are still things to figure out, and you don’t want to worry about that yet. 
The two of you are awfully cheery on the drive back, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by your friends. They don’t question you, yet. You’re getting ready, dressed in a lovely shade of red and applying a lipstick to match when a loud shriek deafens you. Getting out of the bathroom, you see Shoko and Satoru sitting on either beds of the room, a hastily dressed Suguru rushing in, trying to snatch away the phone in Satoru’s hand, veins popping out on his forehead.
“Give me back my phone!” Geto yells, lunging at Satoru. 
A/N: Man's so pretty I wanna kiss him stupid
567 notes · View notes
grandline-fics · 7 months
Note
Hello!! I adore your writing so much, they're so well-written! can i maybe request for the supernova trio (luffy, law and kid) reactions to accidentally touching their s/o's cold feet/hand when they're sleeping at night? thank you so much in advance!! <3
DESCRIPTION: They touch your cold hands/feet at night
WARNINGS: just fluff
CHARACTERS: Luffy, Law, Kid
WORDS: 1,465
A/N: Thank you for the request! I tried to keep each situation different and hopefully you like what I came up with for them
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST
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LUFFY
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When Luffy sleeps it’s the deepest, calmest slumber that could make anyone jealous. Unless the strong, irresistible smell of Sanji’s cooking or the call of an island coming into view is a factor, it’s hard to predict what will wake the excitable Captain. It wasn’t until you got into a relationship with him and found yourself sleeping beside him each night you only just realised how deep of a sleep that was. One thing you always found was that even in his deepest sleep he had to be touching you in some way. So long as he had so much as a finger resting beside you it appeared he slept the happiest. It also helped when his contact with you was unbroken so as a result you had to take your watch shift after him. 
However one evening Franky asked you to cover his watch because he had a lot of maintenance work to do on the Sunny after a recent storm and near miss with a persistent Marine fleet. You’d agreed and saw no problem with it since Franky’s watch was straight after yours anyway. While Luffy pouted about it, he knew it was a one time thing. You spent the evening in the ship’s aquarium, waiting for your double watch to come. When the time came, you stretched out and reluctantly left the warmth of the comfortable position you’d been in and wandered out onto the deck.
You shivered when the cool night air hit your skin. Even with the layers you’d had on you could feel the cold beginning to seep in. By the time you’d climbed to the Crow’s Nest you were trembling and spent most of your double watch trying to keep warm which you barely managed. Although it felt pointless because by the time your shift was over, the cold air on the climb down undid all your efforts so getting to your room and hurrying to get under the covers was your only goal. 
Luffy all but sensed your arrival into the room and his arms reached out to cling to you but the second your hands and feet brushed against his skin in your attempt to desperately use his body heat to get warm, his eyes snapped open. At the same time his body acted out of instinct. Luffy’s hands shot forward and pushed you away, his mind not even catching up with what he’d done or what happened until after he heard your yelp and the thud of your body hitting the floor. Slowly he crept to the edge of the bed and looked down to see you staring up at him completely baffled and dazed. “Oh…oops?” Luffy let out a nervous laugh and reached out to pull you back into the bed, making sure to hold you closer than normal so you’d warm up faster. 
LAW
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Law was a chronic workaholic and while he had been getting better and creating a better balance between rest and work, he could still get distracted and forget to prioritise himself. So it usually fell to you to coax him out of his current focus and come to bed. Usually being the word, on nights like this he just wouldn’t shift from his desk. He’d planted a soft kiss against your lips and promised he’d be done soon. Giving him the benefit of the doubt for the first couple times, you’d returned to bed only to rise half an our later to check on your lover. The third time you got up, you leant against the doorframe of his office and stared at him with heavy, tired eyes. 
Slowly sensing you’d appeared again, Law glanced up briefly but quickly dropped his gaze to the research notes he’d gathered on an interesting new contagious virus that was beginning to be known in the New World. Faintly he heard you yawn and he looked up again. “Go to bed, I promise I’ll be going soon too.” You rolled your eyes at that and he let out a small smile. “I know, I know, I said that already but I do mean it. You look exhausted, get some sleep.”
“Why can’t you just bring that with you and read it in bed?” You asked, smiling knowingly when Law pretended to not hear that suggestion. If that was his answer then you were not budging from your spot, deciding to play him at his own game and try your next tactic. If you were stubborn about your wellbeing it would be enough to snap Law out of it. Usually his drive for knowledge was admirable but you could see he was just as tired as you were. The last thing you wanted was for him to get sick. “Hey Law?” You asked casually, listening out for his small hum in response. “You ever think about installing carpet on these floors? Would make things so much nicer.”
“It’s a pirate ship, not a hotel-” Law’s playful observation stopped when he looked up to finally see you were standing there in your bare feet. Immediately he activated his Devil Fruit and brought you both to your shared bed. Now having you beside him, he flinched at the feeling of your icy cold skin against his and scowled. How could you have been so careless? Judging by the satisfied expression you had as you nuzzled in closer to his chest and closed your eyes he could see you’d done it on purpose. With a sharp sigh, Law settled back against the pillows and gently rubbed your back, letting your relaxed breaths lull him to sleep.
KID
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“Killer’s going to kill you when we’re not lost anymore. You promised not to wander too far.” You mused as you walked with Kid, your arms folded lazily across your chest, watching your Captain and boyfriend pace angrily around the clearing you’d finally come across, trying to pick which direction to go in now. At least it was something different from the same, unchanging layout of thick trees and vines you’d been facing for the last two hours. Slowly you looked up at the sky, the light was rapidly fading, it wouldn’t be long before night was going to fall and with no visible clouds it was going to be a bitter and cold one. Here you stood with no proper supplies for camping. “Wonder if I can convince him I was innocent in all this…”
“You’re as much to blame as I am!” Kid grumbled, finally snapping out of his pacing to glare at you. “Why are you so relaxed anyway? Like you said we’re lost.” Kid watched as you pursed your lips thoughtfully and eventually shrugged. You never were one to panic in situations like this and for some reason even though it was just you and Kid in the middle of nowhere it would never feel like a bad predicament. 
“You’ll keep me safe, right Captain?” You asked with a teasing smile. Kid scoffed and grinned at your joke. 
“Quit actin’ like you can’t look after yourself now come one. If we go in this direction we might find something familiar.” He instructed, his usual confident smile in place as you fell into step beside him. 
As much as you’d both helped to find something familiar and reunite with the rest of the crew, you and Kid ended up coming across a completely different town on the island. Since night had fallen and you were both exhausted you both decided to just stay at the nearest available place and try again in the morning. The only thing you could find was a tavern and the owner seemed more wiling to deal with you than Kid’s imposing presence that only got more abrasive from his tiredness. Gratefully you took the room key when it was offered and led your boyfriend upstairs to the room. 
When you closed the door behind you both, you moved straight for the bed and flopped on top of it with a groan, just wanting to fall asleep quickly. Kid smirked at your dramatics and using his large metal hand he grabbed you by the waist and lifted you with ease so he could get under the covers first and finally settle you down against him. Immediately your arms wrapped around as much of his frame as you could, feeling him jump in shock at the feeling of your cold hands meet his skin. 
“Fuck! You’re freezing!” He shouted, looking at you with a frown, he tended to naturally run on the warmer side and hadn’t really cared when it had gotten dark. “Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Kid asked only to sigh when you shrugged again and smiled at him.
“Maybe I wanted an excuse for you to look after me?” 
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carlsangel · 3 months
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CARL GRIMES HEADCANONS (PT 2)
(for curvy!fit!fem!reader. reader has known carl since the start!!!!)
tags: fluff!!! little tiny pieces of angst
masterlist here!
btw, these headcanons go farther than season 8, aka if carl hadn’t…you know -_-
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✦ At the quarry, you and Carl would mess around in the woods a lot. You never quite understood what was going on but you guys did your best to stay entertained. He has his own toys and since you didn’t really have the opportunity to take your own or find some, he shared with you and that’s how you became friends.
✦ After Carl got shot you took every opportunity to spend time with him. You practically never left his side at the farm, up until the prison. After Lori passed, you tried your best to give him space but at some point you helped him realize that being cold wasn’t the solution to grief. The prison was the start to his large crush on you and yours on him.
✦ When Carl got his gun back he taught you how to properly clean a gun, you were trained back at the farm like he was. Cleaning his gun was an activity he liked doing so he invited you, his favorite person to share the fun with. He loved doing that but also reading comics so sometimes he would invite you into his cell just to sit there and quietly read. He enjoyed your presence even if you were just quiet the whole time.
✦ Reading comics was something he’d share with you for a while after the prison. You stayed with him through the fall of the prison and you experienced probably the worst of the worst beside him. After everything, the Claimers and Terminus, he felt okay but only because you were there with him. “Are you okay?” You ask. “Im okay. As long as you’re here.” He replies, sort of shyly. This was what helped him realize how much he loves you. He wanted to express that to you without directly saying it and he did that by using physical affection or giving you objects he think you’d like.
✦ At the church, he sat down with you on one of the pews and gave you a small gift. The day before, right after Terminus the group separated to look for supplies. Him and Michonne searched a house and he ended up finding a small dinosaur keychain he thought you’d like.“I found something for you.” he tells you. He pulls it out and gently plops it in your palm. “I thought maybe you’d like it…for your backpack.” After that and seeing your reaction, he knew he wanted to be with you.
✦ You were really hesitant about Alexandria, you were worried it would fall apart just like the prison did. Carl was able to convince you that it’d be good for you, even if some of the group thought otherwise. When you arrived, he held your hand until he was pried away from your side to go do an interview with Deanna. In that interview he mostly talked about you. “She’s really strong…she deserves this more than anyone.” He tells her. You also started your relationship soon after arriving.
✦ Alexandria falling the first time was horrid for you. You were worried it’d never go back to the way it was. Carl getting shot again only made it worse. Although he was the one that was injured, he assured you everything would be okay. Once he woke up and dealt with the reality of losing his eye, you’d cuddle with him just talking about how you wanted your future to be. He’d rest his chin on top of your head which was laid on his chest. “Alexandria will go back to normal soon. One day we’ll be leading this place. You know?”
✦ Throughout the Savior war, you stood beside him and supported him in the decisions he’d made. He basically saved Alexandria and he couldn’t have done it without your support. At the end of it all, his dad took his wish in locking Negan up rather than killing him in order to maintain peace without death.
✦ As time went by, he started to fall more in love with you and he noticed your body more. He loved the way your clothes hugged your curves. He absolutely was infatuated with your body. From that point forward he just touched you ALWAYS. He adored cuddling with you, holding your hand, holding your waist. He hugs you from behind and rubs his hands along your tummy as he kisses your neck. He’s super sweet with you, after the war was over he was happy to just be able to relax and be gentle.
✦ As time goes on and you get older, the both of you take up leadership positions in Alexandria. You get to work together to better Alexandria. At some point you’re able to move into Deanna’s old home. When clearing it out, you find the old camera that she used to interview people. You’d watch each other’s interviews and giggle over the sweet stuff you said about each other.
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a/n: sorry for not really incorporating the curvy part HEJSJFHDH i struggled a tad with that. i started doing match ups!!!! so if u want one u can read the info for that and it’s linked in my masterlist :))) i love u bye!!!!
tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow
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mviswidow · 8 months
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more than you know
Natasha Romanoff x Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
Summary: Nat and R get high together & fuck (a tiny bit of fluff at the end)
Content Warnings: NSFW!! switch!natasha; oral; fingering; marijuana use
A/N: i don't write smut often but i'm hoping this is good🫠
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“I’ll take another hit,” Natasha murmurs after a couple minutes of silence, and you nod in response, taking your cart out of your pocket and handing it over. 
“Thanks.”
You manage to look away from the window that held a beautiful view of the city’s skyline that had captivated you both and look over to Natasha, who was just as beautiful (if not more). You watch her inhale, her tolerance is impressive since she doesn’t seem to smoke often. 
“Are you like a secret stoner or something?” You probe, turning to sit facing her, sinking further into the couch.
“I used to smoke when I got back from missions for a couple months but I started to get a little dependent on it so I only smoke weed when I’m offered now. For the most part.”
You hum in acknowledgement, “I have to smoke to get to sleep every once in a while.”
Natasha lazily turns her head in your direction, it urges you to continue.
“It’s usually when I don’t have missions that I have the most trouble getting sleep. I’m less exhausted and my mind kind of just goes everywhere and I get stressed - it becomes a lot to handle sober sometimes.”
“I know the feeling,” she nods, a sad smile on her face.
There’s a lull between the two of you and you study her face. Her eyes look a little squinty but they shine in the darkness nonetheless; her cheeks are tinged a gentle pink color that’s difficult to make out. You’re in a bit of a trance, letting your eyes gaze upon Natasha as you did the city’s skyline - refusing to miss any details. 
The corners of her full lips quirk up into a real smile and she shakes her head, feeling slightly scrutinized by your gaze but knowing better than to believe that you mean for her to feel that way, “What?”
“I’m just looking at you,” you say, as if you’d looked at her that way many times before. (You have, she’s just never caught you.)
“Why?” her brows pinch together.
“I want to. You’re beautiful.”
Natasha’s cheeks are a deeper pink now. Her pupils are dilated and her lips part as she glances down to your own.
“I told myself I wouldn’t do this with you,” she says, and it sounds like she’s reprimanding herself.
“But you want to?” you hum, leaning forward with an eyebrow raised.
“More than you know.”
“I’m not scared of you.”
“Maybe you should be,” she rasps, pulling you in by the back of your neck and crashing your lips together.
Her lips are softer than you could have imagined but Natasha is rough, eager to explore every inch of you. 
You moan at the sensation of her tongue in your mouth and it spurs her on. She kisses you feverishly and you try to keep up. You squeeze your thighs together, trying to ignore the growing discomfort between your legs.
Natasha bites and pulls at your bottom lip for a quick moment before moving to attack your neck. Your hand comes up to her hair and gets lost in her red tresses, rolling your hips into hers on instinct when you feel her nip at your pulse point.
She hums in satisfaction at your reaction and is quick to situate her thigh in between your legs, giving you some friction.
You suddenly feel her warm fingertips underneath your shirt, ghosting up your torso. They graze the bottom of your breast as she leans back up to kiss you once again, “You’re gorgeous.”
Natasha is more gentle this time and she smiles against your lips when your breath hitches in response to her finding your nipple, rolling it between her fingers and tugging.
“Nat, please,” you gasp when she pinches your nipple, your brain fuzzy from your high and your arousal.
“What do you want, detka?” she murmurs, lifting your shirt over your head. She almost moans at the sight of you. 
Her hot mouth connects with your nipple with haste and your breath leaves you.
Nat chuckles before sucking a hickey on your breast, “C’mon, baby. You can tell me.”
“I need you,” you whimper. “Fuck me, please, Nat.”
She groans against your chest and tugs your sweatpants off. Her hand finds its place between your thighs quickly and you arch into her when she enters you with two fingers.
“God, yes,” you pant, head thrown back as your nails dig into her shoulder.
You can see the satisfaction on Nat’s face as she watches you desperately buck your hips to meet her fingers as they thrust into you. She can’t believe how wet you are for her and it only makes her go faster.
“Can’t be too loud, detka,” she warns you after noticing you’d become pretty loud, drunk off her fingers. “Don’t want to wake anyone up.”
Natasha leans down to kiss you once again, muffling the expletives and moans that had been leaving your mouth. 
You’re sure that your lips will be bruised in the morning but you can’t bring yourself to care because you feel so good. Natasha’s fingers are curling inside you at a fast and steady pace and you know it won’t be long until you’re cumming on her fingers. 
Your bottom lip is caught between your teeth and you’re biting it so hard you think you may bleed. 
All you can do is pull Nat closer to you as you throw your head back in ecstasy. She knows you’re close when she starts feeling your muscles clenching, “Show me how good I make you feel.”
Your torso jolts forward and you can’t stop the moan that leaves the back of your throat.
You whine as Natasha works you through your orgasm. She won’t stop until she’s milked as much of it as she can, “That’s it, detka.”
Once you’ve stilled, she removes her fingers from inside of you. You can barely form a thought as you watch her suck her fingers clean before she takes another hit of your cart and blows it up into the air.
Watching her lights a fire inside of you and before you know it, you’re pushing her back on the couch and stripping her of her shorts.
You can tell that her head is swimming from the hit she just took and how fast you’re moving but you don’t give her time to react. You quickly pull down her panties and situate yourself between her legs.
You want to spend time kissing as much of her thighs as you can, but Natasha tangles her fingers in your hair, pushing you down to where she wants you and leaving no room for argument.
You don’t find time to be bothered because all you want right now that you’re in front of her is to hear the beautiful sounds that she makes while you’re bringing her to her climax.
You moan as you lap up the wetness that has collected between her lips, making her hips rut forward.
Nat’s brows knit together when you start to circle her clit with your tongue. Your eyes are glued to her beautiful face as she whimpers quietly, mouth open in pleasure.
Her thighs feel delicious, tightening around your head, and you think this must be what heaven is like. 
Upon entering Natasha with a finger, her heel begins to dig into your back, urging you impossibly closer. 
“More, please,” she croaks, and who are you to deny her of what she wants? 
Nat is reduced to moans when you enter her with another finger and the only thing she seems to remember how to say is your name. You couldn’t be happier.
You pay extra attention to her clit, alternating between sucking and flattening your tongue to give her as much friction as possible as she practically rides your face. 
Without warning, Natasha throws her head back, red fiery hair splaying out on the couch, and lets out a long, low moan. Her fingers tighten in your hair and she holds you in place as she rides out her orgasm.
When she releases your hair, you lick her clean before coming up to kiss her slowly, letting her taste herself on your tongue.
You break away to look at her, really just wanting to admire how beautiful she is for a minute, but you notice that she looks a little sad all of a sudden.
“What is it?” You whisper with haste, now worried that you did something wrong.
“Please tell me this isn’t the last time I get to kiss you.”
You smile in relief, “It won’t be, I promise.” 
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