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#others I’ll replay it on a loop
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⁉️😡😤HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME???😤😡⁉️
(kiss my forehead during sex 😮‍💨)
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phoward89 · 1 month
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Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics
Coriolanus Snow might be a heartless monster, but he'll always be yours. You'll always be his obsession. And that was one thing that Dr. Gaul underestimated her protege about: his obsession with you.
Masterlist here
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Heartless Pt. 2
Coriolanus always thought that if he ever laid eyes on you again that he'd kill you. Wrap his hands around your neck, squeeze, and watch your life force drain out of you. He always thought that he'd look deep into your eyes until they glazed over with the death that he brought you.
But Coriolanus never thought that when he saw you again that he'd be keeping vigil at your bedside, watching your ashen form weak and in an endless sleep, while rocking your- his newborn son in his arms.
A son that he only found out about when your older brother called him up, frantic.
That call changed everything. It replayed in his mind on an endless loop as he stared at you, hopelessly willing you to open your eyes.
Coriolanus was sitting in his office in the lab. He finally got promoted from intern to assistant. Coriolanus was right underneath Dr.Gaul; he was proud of how quickly he was promoted.
7 months of hard work had paid off. He now had power, authorization to top secret projects and documents, and a large say so when it came to gamemaker duties. His work was very important to him; he had the steel spine that it took to make the hard decisions that some other game make s and interns turned green about.
Coriolanus Snow was rewarded because he was a heartless monster that did anything to get the result that he needed. That he wanted. He would do anything to see the games remain a success, even if that meant proposing some measures that would make the game a total spectucal.
Dr. Gaul approved of all of his ideas and suggestions. And the one that she pushed for, well he approved of and pressured the other low level gamemakers into approving it too.
It was genius, his mentor’s idea.
Having all children born on District Peacekeeper Bases be registered as a district citizen belong to the district of their birth instead of being granted automatic Capitol citizenship would ensure that their was a larger participation pool for the games; it also prevented too many officers from muddying their Capitol blood with that of district scum.
Coriolanus was looking over a chart for a mutt experiment whenever his private office phone started to ring.
Ring, ring ring…Ring, ring, ring…Ring, ring, ring…
Oh no, was Grandma'am’s memory worsening? Was she giving Ma Plinth a hard time? God, he hopes not.
Ring, ring, ring…
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he let out a deep sigh before picking up the phone. “Assistant Gamemaker, Coriolanus Snow. Whom may I be speaking with?”
“Snow, it’s Officer Rein Halvir, Y/N’s older brother. I'm calling because I need you to get to the base in District 12 right away. Y/N’s been in labor for nearly 36 hours, the doctor won't do a cesarean because Dr. Gaul put into effect a new policy that surgical resources can only be used for peacekeepers and not any civilians living on base, and it's not looking good, Coriolanus.”
“What?...” Was all Coriolanus could say. He was stunned. You could possibly be dying in childbirth? With a child he didn't know about? And on a district base.
On a district base.
Oh no! Not that!
“She was afraid to tell you, Snow. You had her terrified with the stalking: nonstop roses and jewelry. Our mother sent her to stay with me. Once it was announced that children born on district bases would be district citizens and eligible for the games, I tried to get her to go back to the Capitol, but mother refused to let her come back. I even told Y/N to call you; try to work things out with you, but she refused. Said that you never loved her; wouldn't care what happened to her or the baby.”
“I’ll talk to Dr. Gaul about approving a cesarean for Y/N right away.” Coriolanus told Rein as his dead heart started to bleed.
“Thank you, Snow.” Rein replied, a hint of gratefulness in his normally stern tone. “Will you be coming to the base? To see-” your brother began to ask, only for your ex to cut him off with, “I’ll be there, but only because I don't want my child raised in such a filthy, mud hole of a district as 12.”
Coriolanus didn't say another word. Just hung up his phone.
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Machines beeped, monitoring you as you slept. Coriolanus felt that you looked dead, not asleep. He was so angry. You weren't supposed to be unconscious in your bed. You were supposed to be up, sitting in bed, holding your baby. You were supposed to scream and cry at him when he walked into your room. You weren't supposed to be just lying there, hanging in-between life and death.
Not when he had faxed the paperwork with Dr. Gaul's signature for the approval of your emergency cesarean.
You were supposed to be okay. You and the baby both. Not just the baby.
As Coriolanus watched you, waiting for a sign of life, he got lost in the recent memory of when he first saw you again.
When Coriolanus got off the train at the District 12 depot, he thought your brother would be there to greet him, but he was wrong. Instead, he had to make his own way to the District 12 base. Thank God he knew where it was, from his short stint as a peacekeeper, otherwise he'd be lost.
The walk to the base was long and grueling. He’d forgotten how far off the base was from the train depot. From the main part of the district itself.
Once he reached the on base hospital, he inquired about your whereabouts and was told where to find you. When he walked into your room, he was expecting you to be tired, but conscious. He even thought you'd be holding or nursing the baby.
Coriolanus never thought he'd walk into your room only to see you hooked up to a machine with your brother’s girlfriend (some district trash he picked up at the hob) by your side. A baby bassinet between your bed and her chair.
She introduced herself as Ashlie (didn't give a surname, not like he cared) and gestured to the bassinet, only to tell him, “That's your son, Cassian Xandros.”
Cassian Xandros.
A name befitting a Snow heir.
“You may go now. I'll watch over her.” Coriolanus told the skinny girl, who looked to be from the Seam. He didn't even bother to introduce himself. He just wanted her to go so he could- hell he didn't know, he guessed sit by your bedside until you woke up, but he didn't want some district whore watching him as he sat by your bedside with your son.
His son.
Cassian Xandros.
Ashlie nodded, a pitiful look in her eyes. She felt bad for both you and Coriolanus, but was too afraid to voice her opinion. The Seam girl just scurried out of the room, leaving Coriolanus alone with you and your son.
She didn't know much about what happened between the two of you, just what Rein told her. And your brother didn't share much since he only knew the handful of facts that you shared with him.
What both Rein and Ashlie knew for certain was that your son with his pure Capitol blood and fine Snow linage was doomed for a chance to fight for his life in the infamous death battle royale known as the Hunger Games all because he was born on Peacekeeper Base-12.
Her heart broke for you, Coriolanus, and your son because no matter if you lived or died, well the platinum blonde father would never be able to bring his son home to the Capitol with him. District born citizens of Panem were forbidden to travel outside of their district of birth unless it was to be delivered to the Capitol as a tribute for the annual Hunger Games. Due to the new rules and laws put into place regarding children born on bases being registered at birth as a citizen of the district of the base, your son was forbidden to leave District 12.
If you die, well, Coriolanus will have to give Cassian Xandros up to Rein (and Ashlie) to raise. That subject’s the reason why your brother’s avoiding Snow.
Once your brother's girlfriend had left, Coriolanus sat down in the chair she had once been occupying. He sadly sighed as he took in your condition.
When his eyes landed on his son, he felt pride well up in his chest. The boy, Cassian Xandros, had his natural platinum blonde hair.
He looked just like him.
Was his little mini me.
He gently picked up his baby boy and cradled him to his chest. When Cassian began to stir Coriolanus rocked him. “Don't worry, son, I got rid of the evil lady that tried to take you and your mother away from me.”
Cassian blinked his eyes open, revealing them to be blue. Coriolanus smiled at his son, seeing that he had striking blue eyes, and told his son, “You're mine and your mother's mine. Nobody ever takes what's mine and gets away with it.”
The baby just blinked at his father, not understanding anything he was saying since, after all, he was just a newborn, and then scrunched his nose. He then closed his eyes and went to sleep in his father's arms.
His father's murderous, monstrous arms.
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When your eyes fluttered open, Coriolanus felt a sense of relief he didn't know possible. After not knowing if you'd ever wake up, seeing your beautiful eyes again was like heaven.
And to think that he had once vowed to kill you if he ever crossed your path again. But that was when he thought you gave up on him.
No, things changed when he realized that you were trying to protect the Snow heir because you felt unsafe after that package you recieved.
That damn package Dr. Gaul, his mentor, had sent you. A tape with a letter persuading you that he was incapable of loving you.
A letter he didn't know about until Dr. Gaul let it slip when he approached her about signing off on your emergency cesarean forms.
Too bad she let it slip…Well, too bad for her since it ended her career. And ended her too, by the hands of her most prized prodigy.
The memory makes Coriolanus smile as it washed over him like a warm waterfall.
Coriolanus strode into Dr. Gaul's private lab, where she had her latest deadly mutt experiment in a terrarium, with one mission in mind. To get Dr. Gaul's approval for your cesarean.
He might hate you for leaving, but he didn't want you to die in childbirth with his baby. He didn't want you and your child to succumb to the same fate as his mother and baby sister.
Not when he could help it.
He was a child when his mother and baby sister died during child birth in the Dark Days, he was helpless when it came to their fate.
But now Coriolanus was a man, a very successful one that had cunning, wits, and charm to carry him far. He had an endless supply of money too. He was no longer helpless when it came to the fate of his- well his heir and it's mother during a deadly childbirth.
Coriolanus now has the means to beat fate when it came to death in the birthing bed; he was going to make sure that you and his heir did not share the same fate his mother and baby sister all those years ago during the war.
“Dr. Gaul, I need you to sign off on an emergency cesarean for Miss Y/N Halvir. She's at the military hospital ob Peacekeeper Base-12.”
“Hippity, hoppity, looks like Snow's melting for a baby boppity.” Dr. Gaul sing-songed in a mocking cackle as she watched the mutts moving around in their tank.
They looked agitated, starved even, as their colorful bodies slithered around, sharp claws scratching their glass enclosure, and sharp teeth gnashing and snapping.
The mad scientist was teasing them by holding a bucket full of food, pulling a rodent from it and dangling it by the glass terrarium. She was teasing them, gauging their reaction to her lunchtime torture.
She had snatched away her most successful experiment’s most desperately wanted meal before he could eat; Dr. Gaul had even spoon fed him a meal that was just as good, but not what he wanted. It was what he needed, what she needed him to have to be the monstrous creature she wanted by her side to do her bidding.
She enjoyed teasing and taunting her experiments.
The only creatures of hers that she actually fed were her eels. But…they were more like beloved, dangerous, pets then mutts at this point since Dr. Gaul's had them for so many years.
Dr. Gaul placed the squirming mouse back into the bucket, turning away from the glass tank to look at Coriolanus. “No.” She simply said before walking across the lab to shelf the bucket of rodents.
She'd have an assistant feed the baby anthropomorphic reptiles in the terrarium later, after she shooed away her favorite creation, Mr. Snow, and had her milk and crackers.
“No?” Coriolanus parroted, his tone full of disbelief.
How dare she tell him no? He wasn't asking her to authorize a procedure on anyone, but the mother of his child.
“But, Dr. Gaul, without the procedure Y/N and the baby might die.”
“If they die then they die, Coriolanus.” The mad scientist shrugged nonchalantly. “Death is a natural part of life. If someone weaker or lesser than is removed from the cycle of life then it just proves that their contribution to the ecosystem would not have mattered. Death is the natural way of purging those creatures that are useless in the world.”
Coriolanus could not believe what he was hearing. His mentor was giving him a lecture on why he needed to let the mother of his child and his heir die.
Was he supposed to agree with her?
Well, he couldn't do that.
He didn't want his heir to die.
And you…well…he wanted to be the one that killed you. For leaving him, of course.
“I'm not talking about weak helpless creatures, I'm talking about-” Coriolanus began to say, only for the mad scientist to cut him off with a scoff.
“The little girl that left you over a few words of warning penned in a letter and your damning tape of your best friend Sejanus’ rebel plot. Her bastard offspring that’ll be as weak hearted as its mother. That's who you're talking about, Mr. Snow.” Dr. Gaul told, not asked, Coriolanus as she crossed her lab. Going over to where she had a small table with crackers and milk set up for her snack.
A letter? What letter? He knew about the tape, but not a letter. You never told him about the letter.
“Might as well be weak helpless creatures, considering their dire circumstances and the lowly district they're in.” The mad woman added in as a slight after thought.
“I never told you she received a letter.” Coriolanus, who had figured out what Dr. Gaul has done, told the scientist while following her. His floor shines clicked heavily against the linoleum floor as he told her, “The only way you'd know would be if you sent it.”
Taking a seat at her small snack table, the scientist with wild, frizzy hair, giggled, “Oh, yes, you see, it was indeed me that sent the weak little girl that care package.” Reaching for her napkin and snapping it open, she evilly grinned, “Miss Y/N Halvir and the bastard she carries would only have held you back.” Setting her napkin on her lap, she explained, “The feelings they would have invoked in you would only make you weak.” Giving her protege a proud smile, she giddily announced, “I only made you stronger by removing an element not needed in your life at the moment.” Reaching for a cracker that was on a plate, Dr. Gaul failed to see the rage in Coriolanus' blue eyes. Perhaps if she did, she wouldn't have said, “You should be thanking me, for making you stronger and more powerful then you could have been months ago with the weakness of that stupid girl and the vile creature she's incubating.”
Hearing Dr. Gaul calling you stupid and calling his child a vile creature was the final straw that broke the camel's back. Coriolanus was barely hanging onto his sanity when he realized that Dr. Gaul made you leave him, made you want to protect his child from any dangers (including him) because of a letter and a tape she sent you. But the moment she insulted you, the woman that has consumed his thoughts and has been his obsession since his freshman year in the Academy, and his child in a way that made you seem inhuman, well, he snapped.
He was blinded with rage as he pounced on the mad scientist, catching her off guard and causing her to fall backwards; off her chair.
Coriolanus kneeled over her while wrapping his hands around her throat.
“Y/N was mine, you knew she was mine, and you took her from me! You took her and our child from me when you knew all I wanted was a life with her!” Coriolanus wildly exclaimed as he choked the life out of Dr. Gaul.
“Everything I've ever done was all for her! I needed to win the Plinth prize for her, for our life together, and I had to find a way out of the Peacekeepers, out of 12, for her! You knew that and still, you made her think she meant nothing to me; made her view me as a monster and leave me!” The platinum blonde ranted as his long fingers pressed so hard into the dark skinned woman’s neck that the bones began to crack.
Dr. Gaul gasped for air as her lungs felt like they were going to explode. Her eyes were wide and frenzied with the horrific realization that her favorite mutt, the monster she molded and shaped, had turned on her all because somewhere deep down inside of his black, dead heart, he still had a space reserved for his childhood sweetheart.
The blood vessels in Dr. Gaul's eyes burst due to the pressure Coriolanus was applying to her airway. He smirked wickedly as he watched the life drain from her.
“Snow lands on top.” Was the last thing Dr. Gaul heard before she died and went straight to hell.
Coriolanus, upon seeing that the evil scientist was dead, quickly tossed her into the pool of eels to cover up the crime.
Then he forged her signature on the documents needed for your cesarean; faxed them to the hospital on the base in District 12. He also made a quick note in her desk planner stating that he had to take an emergency family leave due to the birth of his first child. It was the perfect alibi to cover his tracks. Nobody would question his whereabouts if they thought Dr. Gaul herself authorized your emergency cesarean, authorized his family leave as well.
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You were weak as you took in the bright artificial lights of your hospital room. When you tried to sit up, you were gently stopped by a large hand you hadn't seen in months. “You need to rest, darling. You're still weak.” A baritone you never thought you'd ever hear again told you.
Looking towards the voice, you saw Coriolanus sitting by your bedside with your baby in his arms. Your heart stopped beating and all you could say was, “My baby.”
You didn't know if you were afraid that your ex was holding your son or overwhelmed with a sick sense of joy, but all you knew was that you wanted your baby.
“Our baby, Y/N.” Coriolanus corrected you before standing and placing the newborn into your awaiting arms.
As you held your son to your chest, you shuddered and began crying. The last thing you remember was passing out and when you woke up…well…you had no idea what happened to the baby.
“Did my brother call you?” You asked, realizing that's the only way Coriolanus would know where to find you. Honestly, you were shocked he even came when Rein called.
“Yes.” The platinum blonde nodded. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, he wrapped an arm around your back and promised, “As soon as your cleared to leave, I'm bringing you and Cassian Xandros home with me, to the Capitol.”
Looking between your son, nestled soundly in your arms, and his father, you sadly sighed, “Cassian's district, Coriolanus. He was born on base; he won't be allowed on the train.”
“Don't worry about that, my darling rose. I promise, our son will be allowed to return to the Capitol with us.”
You doubted your ex’s words, but nodded anyways.
Little did you know that Coriolanus threatened to kill the nurse’s family who gave him the registration papers for your son if he was marked down as anything, but born in Capitol General.
Like hell was his son, his heir, going to be district. His son wasn't going to grow up in a filthy mud hole. And he sure as hell wasn't going to be fighting for his life in the games.
Coriolanus kills so that his son, Cassian, doesn't have to.
So, folded up neatly in his pocket was a birth certificate that falsely states that Cassian Xandros Snow was born at Capitol General, in Capitol City, Panem.
Even tho Coriolanus Snow was a heartless monster, he was yours. He’s always been obsessed with you and now that you share a child with him, well, even the devil couldn't keep you and your son from him.
After all, he did send the wicked witch of the Citadel to hell for you and his son.
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rebeliz7 · 6 months
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MONSTER
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Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Underworld!Reader
Word Count: 5375
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“You’re a monster!”
The words seem to echo in your head, as your wife clearly debates whether or not she should take them back. Not that you think she would, not after what happened--not after what she saw you doing. 
All the anger you were feeling just seconds ago evaporates, leaving only hurt in its wake. You can’t believe she’d scream that at you, not even while the two of you were fighting. 
The fight is over now, not that you can even remember what you were fighting about in the first place. At this point you two could have been yelling spiteful things at each other because of the phone charger, because that’s who you’ve become. 
It doesn’t take much to ignite a fight nowadays, anyways. 
You’re a monster. 
The venom in her voice, the way she spit the words at you--the moment is replaying in a loop in your head now. 
Finally, you manage to look away from her eyes and leave the room. 
She doesn’t stop you. 
“You good?” Bucky asks you when you join the team in the conference room, which is where your feet took you automatically. He seems to be the only one who notices, or cares. 
The world seems to tilt on you, as you remember that it’s the middle of the day, and you went to your floor earlier to get your wife--because there’s a mission and she wasn’t here for the debriefing. 
She was on the phone when you entered your shared bedroom, but she ended the call as soon as you closed the door behind you. You asked her who she was talking to, and she exploded. 
You’re a monster. 
You can’t believe she’d say that. Not after everything she knows. 
“I’m fine.” You reply, as you take a seat. 
He takes your response the same way all of them do, not completely uninterested but keeping a safe distance from you. 
They’ve never seen you as more than an ally, and Natasha’s wife. They’ve never really accepted you, and although you all live under the same roof, they’ve never concerned themselves with making you feel at home. 
You don’t belong here, you never really have. 
You’d keep your distance too, you think. They know who you are after all--what you are, you don’t blame them. 
Natasha enters the conference room, and her mood seems to invade every single corner of it. There’s no mistaking her attitude, and the anger that threatens to eat her away every time she’s forced to be in the same room as you. 
It wasn’t always like this--she loved you, you’re sure she did. But things have changed, and everything she once loved about you, now seems to have pushed her away. 
“Any takers?” Tony asks, and you finally look up. The map behind him shows a Hydra base with almost every single corner secured. 
It’s a dangerous mission, no one is eager to go because as important as it is to retrieve a nuclear weapon Hydra is threatening to use against the people in London if they don’t get what they want, everyone in this team has something to live for, even you. 
But your life, your existence is slightly different than theirs is. Maybe your time is up. 
Your father warned you though, he warned you that if you left home then he wouldn’t be able to protect you from these situations. Mortality is--not something you understand completely. You didn’t care at the time, you were in love and to be with Natasha you needed to be on earth and not--you needed to be on this mortal realm because she’s human. 
The room grows quieter the longer the seconds drag on, and with a sinking feeling in your gut, you decide to take this one. You don’t know what will happen, but if you leave now you think it’ll give the people who loved you and still do a little bit of peace. 
“I’ll do it.” You speak, and your wife’s eyes are suddenly on you. 
“What?” She asks, growls, but you don’t look at her. This is not the right place, and maybe these people are nothing more than a working team to you, but you’re far from letting them see what a wreckage your marriage has turned into. 
You left everything to be here, everything. 
“Me too,” Bucky says, but you don’t look at him either. 
“No, you’re not.” Steve tells him.
“It’s too dangerous.” Wanda’s hand is on Bucky’s arm, her concern clear. “We should plan better. Go all in, or none at all.”
The last time Wanda fought Hydra, they hit her with a powerful weapon meant to disable her powers. She was unconscious for two days, and now she’s not eager to ever face Hydra again.  
“Let’s think about this for a second.” Sam joins in the conversation, and in the blink of an eye you have a room full of people hellbent on keeping Bucky out of this mission. 
The more they raise their voice, you wonder, where was this concern when you initially offered yourself for this mission?
You’re not close to any of them, you’ve never been good at making friends, but it still hurts. 
It hurts, because they know about your father’s warning. They know you can die here too.
Natasha tries to touch your hand, and her words replay in your mind again. You move your hand away and stand up, only to walk towards Stark in the front of the room. 
“When do I have to leave?” You ask him, and he’s uncomfortable as he hands you a tablet, holding all the details of the mission. 
“In an hour.” He clears his throat, looks into your eyes and looks away just as fast. 
“Okay.” 
Natasha’s eyes are glued on you as you leave the room, but she doesn’t try to stop you. No one else seems to notice your departure. 
This time you go straight to daycare. Your daughter runs to your open arms the moment she spots you, and everything else loses importance, even if for a couple of minutes. 
“It’s so cold, mommy.” Elizabeth squeezes you in her arms, and you rub her back soothingly. It’s snowing outside, but the temperature is comfortable in the room, which makes you smile because Beth has always been a bit too dramatic for her own good. 
“I know, princess.” You put her down, and let her guide you towards her desk in the middle of the room. 
“Look at my unicorn, mommy.” She shows you a drawing, and the next couple of minutes you spend them with her. 
At one point you watch Tony walking in as well, and picking up Morgan before leaving with her. 
You’re a monster.
The words continue to replay in your head, making you feel hurt all over again. You’ve always thought that Natasha was the only person who didn’t see you like that. 
You were wrong though. The only person who doesn’t see you like that is this little girl, your kid.
When you leave daycare, you’re not exactly feeling better but at least you do it with the knowledge that someone cares about you, Elizabeth cares and even if you don’t come back you’ll still have a way to take care of her. 
“Barnes is going with you.” Natasha tells you the moment you step inside your bedroom, where she’s been waiting, apparently. 
You stop moving just inside the room, looking at her and her tensed posture. It wasn’t always like this, she loved you. 
She used to love you.
“The things I did before--” you start and she growls in annoyance. 
“Not this again.” She interrupts you. 
“I thought you knew me. I thought you knew I’m not an actual monster. I left everything for us.”
“Yeah, well.” She swallows, and her eyes find yours with only a little bit of insecurity in them. “Maybe I don’t really know you. Maybe we really did rush into this. And maybe you can't fight whatever it is that lives within you.”
Those words steal your breath away completely. This, she says, referring to your marriage, your family and the little girl you two adopted two years ago. 
She says it as if she doesn’t remember all you gave up to be with her. Not that you blame her, she never asked you to give up anything, you made that decision on your own. 
The pain in your gut seems to spread to every inch of your body, and you wonder if she knows what she’s doing to you, or if she even cares anymore.
You father warned you, of course. He told you all about humans, but you fell for Natasha and he saw it too. There was no stopping you. 
“You don’t love me anymore.” You speak, and she doesn’t look away when she answers. 
“Love is for children.” She spits out, and you try to swallow down your heartbreak. 
“Okay.” You nod, and she sighs. 
“Okay? Do you get what I’m trying to say?” She asks, and although you’re one step away from breaking down, you still meet her anger with your own. 
“You’re ending our marriage. I’m not an idiot.”
“You don’t care to know why?” She asks. 
“You already told me.” You answer as you pick up your bag from the closet. “I’m a monster, right?”
Everything goes sideways as soon as you and Barnes touch ground. You’re both hit with darts, and neither one of you has the time to even speak through your coms before you fall unconscious. They were waiting for you.
You wake up on the ground of a flying cargo jet. Your mouth is covered with duct tape, and there are ropes tied tightly around your wrists and ankles. You try to locate Barnes without alerting the couple of masked guards sitting a few feet away from you, but as far as you can tell he’s not here. 
You have two options, you can get out of these ropes and kill everyone on this jet but there’s no guarantee that the pilot will take you to your real destination. Or, you can pretend to be unconscious and let them believe they’ve captured you. 
“How are we gonna do this?” You hear one of the men ask.
“We’re not doing it. They’ll make the Winter Soldier do it. Hydra’s name won’t even come up.”
“It’ll be the end of the Avengers.”
They continue to talk, but you barely listen anymore. They’re gonna program Barnes to do their dirty work, which means that your mission just got more complicated than it initially was. 
You’ll have to stop a nuclear attack, and rescue Barnes on the way too. 
You don’t know where you land, but it’s hours after you heard the guards talk. The jet lands on an underground facility, and you’re carried inside a large cell made of glass walls. 
With no way to communicate with base, you sit up as the ropes around your wrist and ankles burn in flames at your will. 
You’re about to open up a portal on the thick glass wall to your right, when the air stills and time itself comes to a stop.
You feel the atmosphere thickening before a portal opens up on the floor a few feet away from you, and your father emerges from it. 
He’s wearing a black suit, three piece, and a large coat hanging from his shoulders. He has a cigar between his teeth, and fire burning in his eyes. 
“My kid.” He grins, while you sit back down on the iron bench the guards left you. 
“Father.” You incline your head in respect, and he sighs before shaking his foot to get rid of a few little lingering flames.  
“This is the end of your journey,” he says without sugarcoating anything, while walking closer and sitting next to you. “As a mortal, of course.”
“Of course,” you agree with unmasked sadness. “How will it happen?”
You refuse to look at him just yet, but he still offers you a cigar and you take it. 
It was your thing back at home, he’d come to see you and offer you a cigar and you’d talk for hours. You’d join him at court, and he’d offer you a cigar while you two listened to his advisors talk for hours. You’d look for him down at the pits, and he’d always offer you a cigar while you waited for the boatkeeper to count his coins. 
It’s sort of poetic that he’s come all the way up with one, to warn you one more time.
“They’re gonna torture you for a couple of hours, and you’ll let it happen because the longer they interrogate you the longer your ‘friends’ have to get here.”
“Will they get here in time?” You ask him, as he lights up your cigar and he watches until you take a long drag. 
“Yes.”
You’ve never died before, your siblings have and even your father experienced it once . You’re scared, and he sees it. 
“They won’t save you, it’ll be too late for that but they’ll save the other one, and they’ll stop the nuclear attack too.”
A part of you wants to ask him to intervene, but you know you can’t. He’ll punish you for asking, and he won’t lift a finger to intervene. He respects the law, he abides by it and anyone who’s ever dared to cross him is still paying for it and will continue to pay for it until the end of times. 
“What if I attack first?” You ask, and he takes a deep breath. The room is filled with smoke, the taste of the cigar has lost its appeal on your tongue but you still take another drag. 
Among his many qualities, your father can see what will happen according to a multitude of choices a person can make in a split second, so you know he’ll tell you the truth. 
“Chaos will erupt. They shoot the other guy in the face first, and then they release the nuclear weapon. London is wiped off, the Avengers find you to be the only survivor on this base but it wouldn’t matter either way.”
“They’ll blame me.” You conclude, and he nudges your shoulder with his affectionately. 
“They’ll blame you.”
Time goes by with the two of you smoking your cigars, and no talk. 
You were almost on your way to attack this base, his showing up at that exact second was not a coincidence. He’s come to ask you to make the right choice. 
It’s not common for him to have a say in these types of things, so you know it means more than he’s letting on. He has a chance to make something right, you both do.
“You will still be able to see your daughter,” he tells you. “I’ll make sure of it.”
When he meets your stare the fire in his eyes is burning brightly, a beautiful contrast to his skin. The dimples on his cheeks are prominent as he grins at you, and you know the same dimples appear on your face as you smile back. 
Your mother always said that the reason why he loved you the most out of all their children, is because you’re his spitting image. You always argued that the truth couldn’t be further from her statement, since out of all your siblings you’re the only one sane enough. 
But you know it’s the truth, he’s always loved the way you smile and those dimples reminded him that you’re his daughter. The first time he saw your eyes burning like his do, he laughed so loud that even the souls in the Styx River peaked out to marvel at the sound of it. 
He was an angel once, after all, and the sound of his laughter remains to be the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. 
When you finish your cigar he promptly stands up, and you do too. 
“Your mother misses you,” he says just as a portal opens up on the floor and you catch sight of the raging flames that surround it. 
The thought of your mother makes you smile, you miss her too. 
“Well, you can tell her I’ll be home for dinner.” You smile, although a treacherous tear rolls down your cheek. Your father is quick to wipe it off for you, the back of his fingers graze your cheek as he smiles too. 
“She knows.” He sighs, and the flame in his eyes dissipates and leaves in its wake the saddest look that you’ve ever seen on your father’s face.
“I’m sorry you had to learn about humans this way.” He says, and the sorrow of his soul spreads all over you and even home, it seems. The flames of his open portal evaporate, and smoke rises up from it. 
“I imagine there’s no other way to learn this lesson.” You swallow with difficulty and he kisses your temple, his hands cupping your face. 
“I’ll see you home, kid.” He smiles. “That dog of yours has been missing you.”
You chuckle, as you picture the faces of your three headed dog howling into the dark skies, begging for your return. He always tended to be a bit dramatic. 
“Thank you, dad.” You tell him as he begins his descent, and he smiles one last time before he’s gone. 
They do come for you, they take you to an interrogation room where they begin by hitting you. They move you into a different glass room, and you can see them trying to reprogram Barnes in the next room too. 
It’s not an easy task, since he had all his triggers removed when he was in Wakanda. They try and they try, and they attempt to punch the answer to his resistance out of you but you give them none. 
Barnes looks at you, but he’s too weak and he still has his metal arm. That’s how you realize how the team will find you, the arm has a tracer. Stark installed it a couple of weeks ago, Barnes wasn’t happy about it but it’s paying off either way. 
Hours go by, and by then they’ve pulled out seven of your finger nails with tweezers. The pain is the worst, the pain still shocks you, and makes you feel smaller than you really are. 
You don’t feel any pain at home, pain is not something made for your kind. Pain is human, and you remind yourself that you chose this and endure it. 
Weakness doesn’t embrace you, it’s not natural for you to feel tired, let alone weak in the face of trouble. Which is the reason why your capturers continue to beat you, and cut you and even shoot you. 
By the time you hear a commotion, your head feels funny and your vision is blurry. They hit you in the head a lot, and the gunshots on your abdomen are already taking your life away. This body is human after all. 
You see the Captain going for Barnes, and Barnes collapsing in his arms. The glass around you shatters and Wanda’s powers swirl all around you, before Natasha falls on her knees next to you. 
She’s talking, her lips are moving and tears begin to roll down her face the moment she blinks. 
She yells something over her shoulder, more people gather around you and Natasha is touching you, but you can’t feel it. 
I still love you, you want to tell her. 
I will always love you. 
She’s crying as she holds you, her sobs make her body shake as she speaks, but you can’t feel her touch and you can’t listen to a word she’s saying. 
You’re a monster. 
The memory flashes through your mind, hurting you even worse than all the wounds that are killing this human part of you do. 
She saw you capturing two rogue demons yesterday. They were hard to find, and ever harder to apprehend. They laughed at you, and you had to remind them who you are. 
You’ve never shown Natasha that side of you, not willingly anyway. She knows who you are, she knows the things that you do or used to do, because of being who you are. 
She also knows that you left everything for her, everything. You left your home, and stopped answering your father’s call for her. 
Your father warned you, of course. He said that loving someone like you wouldn’t be easy, and he was right. She was always going to see who you really are in your eyes, there’s no escaping it, there never really was. 
Now she cries, brokenly and desperately as you die. 
Your mother welcomes you back with nothing but joy. She’s prepared a feast for your arrival, and your siblings are eager to hear about the way you were tortured. 
Nothing compares to the things you see down here, of course, but it’s still entertaining for all of you. 
You go back to being who you were before you met Natasha, and you visit your daughter regularly although not wearing the same face twice. She’s growing into a beautiful young woman, brave and clever like her mother. 
Natasha doesn’t forget you, and she mourns your death for years. She regrets calling you a monster, not that it makes a difference after you’re gone. 
She tries to move on a couple of times, but nothing lasts. 
As for you, you never really move on from them, not even after their mortal time is up and they’re forever gone. 
… 
469 notes · View notes
nickfowlerrr · 7 months
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always.
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pairing: bucky barnes x reader
warnings: angst (with a happy ending bc duh, it’s me). fluff. uh i think that’s all but if something important needs to be mentioned here, pls lmk!
words: 3.5k
notes: REPOST. this was not at all what i intended to write when i first got my aesthetic photo inspo but here we are lol. this is my fic submission for @pupandkisasaesthetics’ challenge and i hope you enjoy it. and a special thank you to @fandoms-writings for reading over the first draft of this for me and helping me out! i appreciate you so much, remi!! 🥰
thank you in advance for reading and as always, comments and reblogs are more than welcome and so appreciated! please let me know what you think. 🖤
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The floorboards creak under your feet with every step you take. Your eyes are red and your cheeks puffy. You ran out of tears a while ago. Your head throbs still, the headache lingering from the stress, and as you catch a glance of yourself in the mirror hung on the wall of the safe house, you know you look as dead as you feel.
You’re numb and yet your insides are aching, screaming at you.
That wasn’t it. He isn’t gone. It isn’t over.
It can’t be over.
As you pace the empty living room, back and forth, nonstop as you had been since you got back to the safehouse hours ago, the only thing you can do is torture yourself by replaying in your mind each and every step you took and every single word that left your mouth leading up to the explosion.
The explosion.
The deafening boom.
The ringing in your ears.
The shaking of the ground beneath you and of the walls around you.
The gripping fear when you realized where the bomb emanated from.
The neverending silence over static as you tried uselessly to get through to him.
The strong grip on your arm that pulled you from your stupor, that same strong hold that kept you from heading straight to where he was.
Your throat was sore from your yelling. From the cries you couldn’t hold back as you found yourself being urged into the jeep as they started back to safety. Just leaving him.
You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the window as you raged.
But you couldn’t focus on the cruelty of the words you threw at the team, your supposed family, in your attempt to get them to stop. To do their jobs. To save him.
No.
Instead, the loop started right back over.
Walking into the base with Yelena at your side, Bucky in your ear with Sam on his six on the opposite end of the site.
It wasn’t meant to be dangerous. Not more than the usual. Just a simple search and clear of the abandoned base. You’d all done this a hundred times over.
You’d meet in the middle and give the go ahead when you were done.
But that didn’t happen.
You were smirking as you heard Bucky and Sam’s never ending back and forths over the comms as you and Yelena cleared out the east wing of the site.
“East wing clear, heading south. You two plan on doing your job or should we take out the west wing for you, too?” you joked lightly as you made your way down the long winding hall.
“Ya know I’d feel a lot better having you on my six than this stupid fucking robotic bird flying around my head,” Bucky groused.
“Yeah,” you laughed as your eyes scanned yet another empty old computer room, “well give me a minute and I’ll be right there to save you,” you simpered playfully.
“West wing clear and secured, heading south now. Think I’ll get to you first, but I-”
His voice was cut off simultaneously by the static and the boom of the unexpected explosion going off. You and Yelena both ducked, protecting your heads as the ground shook and a wave of vibrations from the blast moved around you. You popped your ear as you tried to orient yourself through the ringing, slowly standing after everything else went still. Your breaths heavy as confusion clouded you both. You checked each other, ensuring you were both alright before your heart skipped a beat. Yelena was talking on her comms with Steve as you were pressing on your own, you tried to communicate with Bucky despite the static still ringing over..
“Buck, you okay?”
Nothing.
“Bucky?” you asked again, growing more frantic internally though you tried to remain as collected as you could.
Still no response.
Your eyes shot to the hall across from you leading to the west wing. To where the explosion came from. To Bucky. You were frozen still.
You pressed on the comms, over and over, trying desperately to get through to him.
“Bucky?”
Silence.
“Buck, can you hear me?... Bucky? James?!” your voice only grew louder and more harsh the longer the silence stretched on. It was like you were stone, you couldn’t manage to move, couldn’t do anything other than try to call him. You hadn’t noticed when Steve and the others came in until Steve took hold of your arm, his touch pulling you from your spot.
You looked to him, eyes wide and blown, feeling like you’d just been kicked back into your physical body.
“What are we doing?” you asked harshly. “What am I doing?” you said, frenzied before you turned and tried to make a move down the hall no one else seemed to be heading toward. His hold on you tightened, keeping you from going, stopping you easily.
“You need to go, we have to get you guys out of here,” Steve said sternly, concern swimming in his gaze despite his levelheaded presence.
“Are you- are you fucking kidding me?” you struggled in his hold. “Bucky is over there, what the fuck are we doing?! Let go of me! I know you have no problem leaving the people you claim to love to suffer and figure it out for themselves, but I can’t do that,” you seethed. “I’m not leaving him, get the fuck off, someone needs to go get him!
“And you and that stupid fucking camera, letting him go in by himself,” you turned on Sam, “where the fuck were you?”
You didn’t realize how much you were struggling to breathe as you fought against your friends to get past them, you didn’t realize how easily you were unraveling as you spiraled quicker and quicker the more time stretched on. It hadn’t been more than a minute or two but it felt like an eternity.
“He’s not answering, okay, he’s not answering so someone needs to go find him. We need to get him! Why are we just standing here! He could be hurt, or trapped, or - fuck!”
“I know. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. But you are. You and you,” he eyed Yelena, “you two need to go. Bishop and Torres are at the first jeep - you guys need to clear the area. The less of us around to get hurt the better and there’s not much you can do.
But I promise you, I’m not leaving him. Okay? I swear,” Steve said as he stared into your welling eyes.
“You’re the last person I’d trust to keep a promise,” you bite harshly before being pulled away by Yelena. You didn’t fight her, though. A part of you knew Steve was right. There wasn’t much you could really do and the more people there were the more likely someone else would end up hurt, too.
Even still, when you got to the jeep, you couldn’t stop yourself from trying to make a break for the west end of the site. How could you possibly live with yourself if you didn’t even try to go in and help him?
Your attempt was futile, though, and soon you were sobbing into your hands as Joaquin drove you all back to the safe house.
As you stood there now, still pacing aimlessly, guilt washed over you. You could clearly recall the subtle recoil from Steve, the pain and regret in his eyes, at your words.
You knew he’d never forgiven himself for leaving Bucky, you knew a part of him could never, and you knew it was a low blow to bring up, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to care in the moment. You wanted him to remember. You needed him to. Because he couldn’t do it again. He couldn’t just leave him there to.. No. He wasn’t.
That wasn’t even a possibility.
He couldn’t be.
He wasn’t.
You kept repeating it over and over again in your head as your eyes threatened to well anew.
He wasn’t.
He couldn’t be.
It was past midnight when you had finally taken a seat on the lumpy sofa.
Kate’s earlier attempts at getting you to sleep were useless and only ended with you growling at her to leave you alone.
She, of course, ignored your snarling and stayed on the couch, just watching you. Her sympathetic gaze was as irking as it was easing.
She didn’t really say much, knowing not to push you, but just her being there had you feeling less like you were drowning. She grounded you a bit.
But she couldn’t take the fear away.
You felt her shuffle closer to you when you finally sat down but didn’t turn until her arms were around you, pulling you in.
You let out a broken breath as you turned into her and returned her hug.
“It’s gonna be okay,” she murmured as she hugged you tighter. “He’s a supersoldier. And he has a vibranium arm. Odds are definitely in his favor,” she tried to lighten the mood.
When you didn’t respond, she pulled away slightly.
“Seriously,” she said as you pulled away from her, looking her in the eye, “we were watching surveillance while you guys were inside. Redwing, we think, set off whatever motion detector was set. He was a bit ahead of Bucky, so we know he wasn’t that close to the blast. The feed cut out, obviously, but.. I don’t know, I thought that’d maybe..help you.. feel better? I just-”
“No, I appreciate knowing that. Thank you. But honestly, I don’t think anything’s gonna help until I know for sure. Until he’s back here.”
The front door creeping open had both of you standing and turning at attention. You could almost feel your heart in your throat as your breathing stalled.
It was a perilous few seconds of nothing before Sam stepped inside.
He looked exhausted and worn and.. Solemn.
“Sam,” Kate edged gently.
There was a pit in your stomach as he looked between you and Kate for a moment before his gaze dropped and he shook his head.
A stunted gasp left Kate’s lips as your heart stuttered, eyes wide, your stomach dropping before the door was shoved open even more.
“Please, don’t get him started on that stupid bird again, for the love of god,” Bucky huffed as he walked in, trying to hide a slight limp before a smirk graced his face as he met your eye.
Everything seemed frozen in the moment you registered his voice and when your eyes met his you honestly thought for a second you were dreaming.
He was leaning against the open door, a relaxed smirk on his lips before he nodded to you, “What happened to you coming to save me, huh?”
You didn’t even register yourself moving until you crashed right into him, almost toppling Bucky over as you did. Your eyes were bleary with tears of relief as you sighed heavily, shakily in disbelief.
“I’m sorry,” you breathed as you crushed yourself to him even further, his solid arms holding you right back as you felt him press a kiss to your head.
“I was kidding, sweetheart. Don’t say you’re sorry,” he chided.
You pulled away from him, taking his face in your hands.
“You’re okay?” you asked.
“Always,” he answered, leaning closer to kiss you softly.
“I wouldn’t say that,” Steve challenged as he came in behind Bucky. “But give it a few days, I’m sure you’ll be good as new.”
You swallowed thickly as you looked at Steve, shame again coming over you, even more now as Bucky’s arms were around you.
You looked away, taking a steadying breath as you took Bucky’s hands in yours.
“You should sit,” you said as he let you lead him away from the door, allowing Steve to close it. “Or shower, maybe?”
“You gonna join me?” he asked, his flirtatious nature never faltering.
“Have some decorum, some of us are in mourning, jackass,” Sam gruffed as he walked through the living room.
“Oh, Sam,” you called, stopping him. You walked up to him, as sincerely as you could, “I’m sorry,” you offered gently before punching him as hard as you could manage in his arm.
“Hey, what the hell?” he said incredulously as he held his arm.
“You deserved that one,” Kate said as she came to stand next to him. “I really thought Bucky bit the big one for a second,” she chuckled, “I am sorry about Redwing, though.”
“Why are you sorry for a robotic bird, I’m the one who almost got blown up,” Bucky interjected.
“Almost being the operative word there. Redwing, on the other hand, did get blown up.”
“I’m not doing this with you again,” Bucky groused, walking past the living room to the bathroom on the other side of the stairs. “I am gonna shower, sweetheart. Would you grab my bag from upstairs?”
“Yeah, of course. I’ll bring it to you in a minute.”
You watched Sam and Kate go upstairs but you were too caught up in your own mind to really pay attention to their conversation. You saw Steve about to make a move to follow them, looking tired and ragged himself.
You followed him, pulling his hand before he could make it up the steps.
“Hey,” you started. “Can we talk?”
He looked a little nervous, unsure, but nodded anyway.
“Sure,” he said, turning around to follow you.
You walked into the living room that was now empty before you turned to meet Steve’s eye.
“I am so sorry,” you apologized, voice thin as you tried to keep your emotions in check. “I don’t know why I- it doesn’t matter, you didn’t deserve that. It was uncalled for. And not true. And I am so, so sorry, Steve.”
“Tensions were high, it’s okay-”
“No, it’s not. It’s not okay. You’re his best friend, you would do anything for him. You love him. I know that, we all know that, and I never should have.. You did everything you could have,-”
“I didn’t—.”
“You did,” you insisted. “You did. And you and I both know he definitely wouldn’t be here today if it wasn’t for you. You’ve put your life on the line for him countless times, and even if you do hold yourself accountable for the train - which you shouldn’t - your slate would’ve been wiped clean about six life saves ago,” you smiled lightly, earning a small smile from him in turn.
“He’d do the same for me. He has done the same for me,” he laughed softly. “‘M just glad he’s alright.”
“Yeah. Thank you. For getting him out. For being there for him. I went a little crazy when I thought he was hurt,” you looked down, ashamed at yourself.
“I can’t blame you. Been there before. But he’s okay. You’re okay. I’m okay. We’re all okay.”
You nodded, meeting his eye once more before you hugged him tightly, his own arms coming around you to return the affection.
“He’s more banged up than he’s letting on,” Steve said as he pulled away, “you should check on him. I’ll throw your bags down, you guys can take the room down here.”
“Thank you, Steve. Really,”
“Don’t mention it,” he smiled before heading back for the stairs.
As you made your way to the bathroom Bucky was occupying, you heard a low grunt followed by a hiss of pain. Knocking lightly, you gave him a second before you let yourself in.
The deep purple bruises that littered his torso had you grimacing for him sympathetically.
“Don’t look at me like that, sweetheart, you know they’ll be gone this time tomorrow.”
“That’s not the point,” you argued, stepping in further, shutting the door behind you.
You walked up to him, lightly running your hand down his torso while pouting mindlessly.
His thumb found your lip as he pulled it down, getting your attention. “I’m fine,” he assured you.
“You could’ve gotten really hurt, Bucky. You could’ve died.”
“But I didn’t. I’m right here. Right where I want to be,” he said as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.
You let your head rest against his chest as he held you, your arms finding their way around him.
“I was so scared,” you whispered pathetically, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt that kind of fear before. I hated it.”
“I’m sorry, baby,” he murmured into your hair. You shook your head, brushing off his needless apology before you took a heavy breath.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you,” you confessed.
“You’re not ever gonna lose me, sweetheart. I’ll always find my way back to you,” he said softly, still holding you against him, “Always.”
A part of you wanted to argue the inevitable. One day, hopefully not one so soon, one of you would lose the other. That was life, wasn’t it?
But you couldn’t bring yourself to challenge him. It was nicer to believe that he was right. He’d always find his way back to you, and you would always find your way back to him.
Always.
You reached your hands up to gently rake your fingers through his hair. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“Never been better,” he simpered easily, enjoying the feeling of your affectionate touch.
You dropped your hands to his shoulders before sliding them down his solid chest, your fingers soothing comfortingly along his skin.
“The truth?” you prodded quietly, flitting your gaze up to meet his brilliant blue eyes in a request for his honesty.
He was quiet for a second before he took a heavy breath, his hands finding and holding yours before he lifted one to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your hand. “The truth is, I’m gonna be okay,” he responded in earnest.
You allow your hand to cradle his stubbled cheek as you keep his loving gaze, finding comfort in the warmth of his eyes.
“Should we talk about it?” you ask, a little hesitant to bring it up, not wanting to let show how unnerved you were still feeling. And it wasn’t that you didn’t trust him when he said he was alright, but still you wanted to know exactly what happened, you wanted to know what he was going through back there. And selfishly, you knew you needed to know everything before you’d start feeling any kind of alright, either.
Bucky’s gaze softened even more at your question. Sam and Steve had told him you were worried, but he hadn’t realized how upset you really were while they were back there. Aside from being banged up by the blast and being trapped in the hallway he’d been in for a good while while Sam and Steve worked to get through the wreckage of the site to get him out, he really was okay. Especially when he knew you and everyone else were safe.
He didn’t feel the need to talk about it, but just from the look in your eyes he knew you did. So he didn’t have to think much at all before he answered.
“Yeah, we should talk about it,” he said, his hand on yours as you caressed his cheek. “Shower first?” he prompted, pulling you from your ever anxious thoughts.
You nodded, “Good idea.”
You turned to leave the slowly steaming bathroom as the shower continued to warm, but were stopped by Bucky the moment he realized you were going for the door.
“Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m gonna grab your bag,” you laughed lightly, but not pulling away from his hold.
“You’re coming right back?” he questioned. “I was away from you for more than long enough already tonight, you can’t be gone too long.”
“I’ll be right back,” you tittered, a lightness returning to you the longer you were around him.
“You better be. If you take anything away from tonight, it should be that you’re not gonna get rid of me that easily, doll,” he smirked playfully as he let you go.
“I wouldn’t dream of even trying,” you said before leaning back in to kiss him softly. “You know I love you, Bucky, right? More than anyone, or anything, ever. You know that?”
“I do. But I don’t mind the reminder,” he smiled into another gentle kiss. “You know I love you more?”
You kissed him deeper at that, not realizing how much desperation was fueling you until you finally pulled away, leaving both of you a little breathless.
Your eyes were pinched shut as you tried to keep hold of yourself, pressing in close to Bucky once more.
“You can’t ever leave me. You can’t,” you whispered desperately.
Bucky’s light grip on your chin had you looking up at him, bleary eyes and a soft pout on your lips as you met his intent gaze.
“Look at me, sweetheart. I wouldn’t ever dream of it. I’ll always get back to you. I promise. Always.”
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739 notes · View notes
lunarw0rks · 9 months
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Old Bones | Chapter Four
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Summary: After fleeing a toxic relationship, you fear for your safety and hire a bodyguard. He's masked, impassible, and damn good at what he does.
Warning(s): strong language, PTSD themes, casualties of war, hostage situations, blood, gun violence, mentions of abuse, death, nightmares, mentions of scars/medical gore
Word Count: 2.7k
A/N: thx for all the support so far!
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Ad Astra
Simon might’ve been handling the situation well, but you, on the other hand, have been nauseous all morning. The sight of his reddened wounds, paired with the squelch of the blood that coated you, all replayed in a loop.
He comes back during sunrise, clothes covered in patches of dirt and scrapes from the previous night. Limping to the shower to wash off, he still looks at you like an alien from another planet, yet he’s the one disposing of a body before breakfast.
You look up from the paper plate below you—some stale muffin and a coffee you snagged from the lobby. He’s wearing fresh clothes again, probably on his last pair of those, and he’s changed the dressings himself, thank God.
“Where’d you take him?” Rather than eating it, you’re smushing crumbs of the stiff baked good in between your fingertips.
“Nowhere important. We’re leaving today.” As if he’s going to tell you that. He zips up his duffel, not before stuffing in the bourbon first, naturally.
You’ve packed up next, casing the room one more time to ensure you got everything. Once you’ve reached the kitchenette, you spot your ring, still laying where you’d thrown it the previous night. You scoop it up, rinsing off the crimson caked in the crevices. The thought of slipping it on again comes as quickly as it leaves—immediately.
The diamond is placed atop the tip you left for the maid. Hopefully, they’ll appreciate it, or pawn it, either way, it’s a piece of mind. Taking that ring off was one step closer to healing, but now being on the path for vengeance has manhandled you two steps back.
The town is several miles behind you now, and it’s back to silence. Not a peep from the radio, nor his mouth. Just the sound of the idled engine when he stops, the repetition of the blinker, and his sighs of discomfort when traffic becomes heavy. It’s half-tempting to reach into the glove box and start reading the owner’s manual, or start solving calculus problems to pass the time. At least when there was a body in the back, your mind was too packed to allow boredom.
“You seem to be healing well, at least.” You have to say something, or you’ll jump out of the moving vehicle yourself.
“I’ll be fine,” he sighs again, only looking briefly at you as you’ve stopped in the next lineup, with his blinker puttering again. “You did fine.” His voice carries the usual dryness, like his vocal cords alone fought on the battlefield.
The compliment is delivered with passivity, to say the least, but coming from him it’s better than being ignored.
“Yeah, well, I was scared shitless,” a compromising chuckle nearly comes, but the memories of kneeling in the gravel push it away. “I’ve never done anything like that before...”
His eyes return to the highway ahead of him as he passes the traffic jam, going quiet again. The crop fields have instead turned to muddy grass, with somehow less civilization than before. He digs into the center console and pulls out a stray cigarette, only cracking the driver’s window slightly when he lights up. The chin of his mask is pulled up now, just slightly above his mouth. After his first deep inhale, he holds the cig out to you.
“No thanks.” You reply flatly, only watching as he exhales the smoke through the small crack of the window. His hum of amusement, or more so shock that you rejected it is next. You already have hired guns after you, what’s some lung disease to add to it?
Simon’s eyes make their way to your hands again—where you’d failed to scrub the blood from under your fingernails, a rookie mistake. Then, how you’re still fiddling with the ring finger of your left, despite still not wearing it anymore—that nervous habit he noticed the first time he saw you. The slight indent on your ring finger, where the skin has remembered the wedding band you’d kept on for so long.
The ring in itself is a scar of its own, only it’s an internal one—unlike the several that riddle his own hands. Knives, splinters, discoloration, fingers with the indents of the stitches he’d gotten years ago.
The questions had been eating at you the entire ride since he forced you to reveal his name. “What are we going to do with him?” A man so desperate for carnage, yet he’s sitting there so calmly as if he’s on this road trip for leisure.
“Nothing nice, and nothing you need to know about.”
Somehow, the thought of that isn’t as comforting as you thought. Cal was a hideous memory, but still a memory nonetheless. It’s not Stockholm syndrome or forgiveness for what he’s done, it’s the plausibility of someone you spent years with being snuffed out.
“He’s still my husband, Simon, I think I have a right to know.” You’re speaking in offense, yet the only emotion you feel is conflict.
Simon scoffs as if you’ve just insulted him personally. “Still your husband, huh? Should I turn around right now, and bring you back home, then? Hm?”
“I suppose you’ll go running into his arms, ‘n get scooped off into the sunset, then?” He tosses the cig out the window, and pulls down his mask again, still shaking his head.
You can’t stand it—the way he makes you sound like a delusional schoolgirl. It’s quite clear, you go home, and you’re in the ground somewhere before you can unpack. “I’m not an idiot. Do you think I’m expecting a warm welcome from him?”
“You’re not thinking at all, that’s your problem.” There’s that insufferable prick again, the one hiding beneath the half-assed attempts to act like a human being.
“Who are you to tell me what I’m thinking, you arrogant prick?” You turn to face him, despite being confined by the seat belt. “You have no clue what this is like for me,” you’ve twisted back again, this time facing your torso to the window now. If you look at him any longer, that idea you had about leaping out of the moving truck might come true.
His fury dissolves again, and now his cinnamon irises have flooded with the echoes of his past. He did understand. Simon understood every bit of it—the urge to kick and scream, and most of all the desire to self-protect when faced with disapproval.
You’ve practically ripped a page straight from his book, responding exactly how he would’ve if it was him in the passenger seat feeling provoked—like a wounded animal snarling because it’s been licking its own wounds for too long.
You’re nearly face-first into the dashboard when he punches on the brakes, not bothering to brace you, despite you dozing off in the seat next to him. This time, it’s not an apocalyptic town, it’s a bigger city surrounding you—an apartment complex somewhere on the outskirts. Nicer than yours, surely, and with tighter security.
It’s nightfall, meaning you slept through most of the day—also obvious because of the kink in your neck from the awkward scrunch your body was in for several hours.
“We’ll be hidden here.” Simon’s tone is reassuring as you’re peering up at the tall building. The place is decent inside, and more modern than your own.
Yet another place to hide, all while the law could be tailing you here. A body left behind, a duffel of weapons, and an ex-soldier doing mercenary work without authorization; how much worse could this look from the outside?
It seems the further you’re running, the closer Cal is to find you, in spite of how well Simon cleaned up the messes.
It’s a repeat of the first night he arrived—unable to sleep, and looking up at the stars. The roof gives a much more pleasing view, much improved compared to the window back home, which was full of chips and caked in dust.
Now, you could see the stars glimmer, how they were covered and uncovered by the passing dark clouds. If the noise from the city were to cease, the sight would be all the more peaceful. There was no interesting conversation down those stairs, where Simon had been glued to his laptop, probably digging up information on Cal—something that still contested your convictions. Up here, the breeze was freeing, and the smell of the rain overshadowed that of the bloodshed.
“Bloody cold out here.” His voice airs, fizzling out into the cloud of noise pollution.
You hadn’t noticed the bite of the wind, despite subconsciously tucking your knees up for warmth. He was only making conversation, probably because you’ve been more of a leech than a partner. Despite your lack of response, he sits beside you on the edge, roping his legs through two gaps in the railing.
The crinkle of a  paper draws your attention again, and the next thing you know it’s placed beside you, only he’s keeping his hand down to prevent it from blowing away.
“Nearest whereabouts, vehicle, and associates.” Above it all is his latest photo, smiling like a sleaze behind his executive desk—ripped from some article Simon dug up about his newest promotion.
His last line is delivered with more forethought, a stark contrast from what he said in the car. “Figured you deserved to know.”
“Put it away.” You whisper, sliding the paper back to him. Despite the wear on Cal’s face, that damn smile still remains spine-chilling.
The paper is folded again, and you only meet his eyes when the crinkling stops. You’d rather stare at Simon’s lack of face than look at another photo of him. There’s a stillness again, whilst you’re in the stars again, and he’s still eyeing you.
He’s returned to his feet now, and he’s rubbing his calloused hands together for warmth. “I’ll leave you to it.”
You can’t leave it at this, not after he’s found Cal’s whereabouts. You’re following him with your eyes, until he’s reached the door back to the inside of the complex, and you’re to your feet before you’ve rehearsed the words.
“I am thinking, Simon. That’s my problem.” His fingers stop as they’re about to turn the knob, and he’s now facing you.
“I know.” Aside from his gruffness, he speaks like someone who’s known the insides and outs of you for a century. You’re the closest thing to a picture of himself right now.
His patience is off-beat, and uncanny to him, only because it’s been buried beneath decades of his own pain. He could claw at himself, try to stop himself from giving you comfort all he wanted, but he’s been losing that fight since the supermarket.
You can’t comprehend why, or how, but you’ve embraced him—and he hasn’t resisted yet. His hand finds its way to the back of your head, giving it a tight hold, all while you’re snaking one arm around his uninjured side. You suppose it's been so long since you’ve been gratified, that’s the logical way of it.
The embrace only lingers for a few moments, his hand remands on your shoulder, peering down at your troubled expression. “We’re going to find him, and then you’ll be out of my hair, doing all the thinking you want. Understood?”
“7-1. Ghost, how copy?”
“Hostiles are not secured yet, Sir. Moving toward target building.” His boots thundered through the sand below him, coating all of his protective gear. He’s forced to ignore the chaos in the village around him, and only focus on the target. The woman screaming bloody murder, the crying disoriented children, and ensuing explosions in the distance.
Simon bashes the door and it comes to a crash, splinters of wood sent flying. Inside, is the target—one of the high-ranking Al-Qatala lieutenants. Inside the decaying homestead, he’s holding his family hostage, all while Simon and his Task Force are entirely focused on the intel, rather than the pleading faces of horror knelt in the cement—the true reality of war, all in a line, execution-style before him.
He’s posted behind one of the pieces of furniture, battling every urge to unload on the devil. Their pleads have overshadowed every comm, every bullet, every explosion, all in a language he can’t comprehend.
“Do not intervene. Secure the target and only the target. We need him alive.” Finally, he catches a piece of the radio transmission, quite literally ripping his finger from the trigger of his rifle. Simon knows himself; when a negotiation has become too personal, familiar enough that he may disobey direct orders.
He’s the lone soldier in there with the rest of him doing recon on the operation. Every bit of his being is telling him to take the risk, to make up some story of self-defense—but the hostages are too close to the danger zone. He wouldn’t forgive himself if his own stray bullet compromised their lives.
“Give yourself up,” Simon shouts, mounting himself on the cover, yet his finger still remains off the trigger. “Now!” He bellows, wincing as his crosshairs fall on the wailing woman, covered in scrapes and bruises, while her husband, the captor, his knuckles bleed.
The captor goes on a speech, something about how kind the SAS will be to him when he’s in custody—he’ll be sleeping like a king as long as he’s giving them actionable intel.
All whilst his wife and children will be left behind in this war torn country, picking up the wreckage his squad left behind as a morbid parting gift—rubble, remains, chunks of their heirlooms. He was right. So right about that aspect Simon wanted to choke the life out of him, or beat him bloody with his bare hands—give the fucker a taste of his own medicine, only without any teeth left.
The lieutenant raises his gun, and yet Simon is powerless. Unless he fires on a foreign soldier, he can kill any one of his hostages, and be snoozing in that cozy cell by the end of the day.
Another gargle in a language Simon can’t understand, and she’s down. The distraught woman, wife, mother, now nothing more than a martyr of warfare.
Lifeless, more bloody than before, and slumped at her spouse’s feet, all while that morbid grin is still written on his face. All while Simon could do nothing to stop it.
That flashback visits him often, always resulting in hands overtaken by tremors, and wide eyes, as if he was back there again. This time, he’s not in bed, he’s still in front of his laptop at the table, having passed out after hours of research.
Cal’s expression; the deadened eyes, familiar devilish smile, the entirety of it staring back at him, causing him to slam the screen shut. After that dream, the feeling of wrath has returned. Not only for the Al Qatala lieutenant, but Cal as well. Too personal, too painful, and awfully familiar, especially with you here.
He finishes off his glass, letting the bitter burn coat his throat slowly as the tremor subsides. He now knows he’s not there anymore, not in cover behind the furniture watching a hostage situation.
He has to move, or he’ll risk smashing the electronic to pieces. The echoes of that woman’s tear-stained cheeks contrasted with yours in the supermarket, and then flashes of her bloodied corpse distorting into yours, with Cal standing over it.
His silent steps carry him to the living room. He has to check, or he won’t get back to work anytime soon. When he reaches the couch, you’re curled up, slumbering peacefully—a stark difference to what his flashbacks tried to convince him off.
Simon lets out a sigh of relief, closing his eyes briefly as he convinces himself this is the real reality, this is the spot he’s standing in, not that awful place.
He locates the small quilt kept inside the ottoman, gently draping it on your sleeping frame. He studies the scene for a few minutes, eyeing the rise and fall of your chest pushing through the blanket. Once he’s satisfied, and sure with his consciousness, he returns to his spot at the kitchen table.
He’s greeted with the intel on Cal again, flicking his eyes over to your peaceful sleep, and the sight of the devil before him, in comparison to you, is only unearthing that rage he felt in the hostage room. He couldn’t save that woman, but he’ll be damned if he makes that mistake again. No superiors, no comms, no bureaucracy to follow like a sheep again—his own two hands, that’s what he’ll use this time. No mistakes.
TAGLIST: @random-thot-generator @littleobsessionsandlifeslessons @illyanam1011 @stunkbiggu @bi-witch-bxtch
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deathblacksmoke · 6 months
Text
take me as you please
pairing: noah sebastian x nick ruffilo
cw: oral sex, cum swallowing, lovey dovey boys, so much kissing (these birds are in love), fluffy n smutty
author’s note: follow up to aphid attraction but can be read on its own. this took me long enough to write that i’m sure it will haunt me. my brain’s gone rotten.
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“Are we going to talk about it?” Noah asks, the silence between him and Nick having dragged on for too long.
They’re on the tour bus, the others squeezing in naps before tonight’s show, so he figures that now is as good a time as he’ll ever find to bring it up.
At the sound of Noah’s voice, Nick doesn’t even look up from his phone. “Talk about what?”
It’s been weeks since Nick walked in and everything should have changed. That’s what Noah had assumed, at least, that there was no coming back from a moment like that.
Yet everything has remained exactly the same, not a hint of anything different, and he knows he should be relieved. As grateful as he is to still have his best friend, Nick’s promise of a next time has been replaying in his head since that day. On a loop, haunting him. He can’t let it go.
“I’ll touch you next time.” Noah says, repeating Nick’s words back to him and watching as his eyes widen. Nick’s mouth opens and closes a few times before he settles on keeping it closed, placing his phone on the couch beside him and staring at his shoes.
“Did you forget you said that?” Noah asks, feeling suddenly cocky upon seeing Nick so shy. He could take advantage of the sudden shift, having a leg up on Nick for the first time in ages, but he decides against it and goes easy on him. Nick shakes his head and Noah grins, scoots closer to him, their thighs barely touching. “Are we going to talk about it?”
“Sure.” Nick says, but he’s fidgeting worse than Noah has ever seen, his voice soft and wavering. Without thinking too much of it, Noah grabs his hand to stop him from continuing to pick at the skin of his fingers. “Or we can forget I ever said that.”
The thing is, Noah really doesn’t want to. He’s happy to pretend it never happened if that’s what Nick needs, if it will salvage their friendship, but he can’t get it out of his head. He’s tried. He’ll pretend for Nick. He’ll let it go. Forgetting just isn’t an option he’s willing to consider.
It’s burned into his brain, the way that the mention of a next time had made his heart race. The way his grip on his cock instantly tightened, chasing that feeling. The way the thought of a next time with Nick had made his vision blur as he came over his fingers with Nick’s name on his lips.
“If that’s what you want.” Noah says. With Nick’s hand still in his, he can’t ignore how the fidgeting has completely stopped. He‘ll let himself take the credit for that but he won’t comment on it. “I‘ve been looking forward to my next time, though, if that’s okay with you.”
Nick looks a little shocked and Noah wants to feel smug, but he’s more focused on getting what he’s been wanting for all these weeks. If he’s being honest, he’s been wanting this for a whole lot longer.
“Does that surprise you?” Noah asks and Nick nods, so shy. It makes Noah want to swallow him whole. “I don’t know why. You caught me jerking off to you. You saw how hard I came when you mentioned it.”
Nick’s cheeks turn beet red and Noah needs him.
“Can I kiss you?” Nick asks suddenly, catching Noah off guard, but he’s nodding before he can think better of it, moving in to close the distance between them.
It’s not at all how he remembers their kisses being, years ago when they were young, drunk, and bored. The rushed and sloppy little nothings they shared in the back of the van, dark bars, Nick’s living room. Those were nothing like this. Now, he’s aware of everything. Nick’s lips - the irresistible softness and how he wants to kiss them forever. The slide of Nick’s tongue along Noah’s bottom lip and how easy it is to open up and let him in. How natural it feels to thread his fingers through the hair at the back of Nick’s head and tug a little. The soft sound Nick makes into his mouth. The way he would kill to hear it again.
He swears he can hear Nick’s heartbeat. He can feel it. He swears his own will beat out of his chest.
It’s nothing like the way it used to be.
“Can I touch you?” Noah breathes into Nick’s mouth. Nick doesn’t answer with his words, but a hand landing high on Noah’s thigh, and it’s enough to make him gasp and squirm closer, but not enough to calm away his bubbling nerves. “Nick, tell me I can.”
Nick takes Noah’s hand in his own, placing it high on his thigh, mirroring his own. Nick’s hands aren’t shaking anymore, growing confident. Noah’s shaking like a leaf now, ego dying, cockiness completely gone.
Nick notices, because he’s always been able to read Noah better than anyone. He takes it easy on him.
“You can touch me.” Nick says, cupping Noah’s cheek and pressing kisses along his neck. Noah’s hand moves higher, to where Nick is growing harder in his jeans. Noah grins when Nick gasps. Their eyes meet. “Of course you can, Noah. I’ve been waiting.”
With the permission finally given, Noah finds his hesitation gone. It’s only moments before he has Nick laid out on his back and he’s covering his body with his own, kissing him until they’re both breathless.
Noah can’t remember a time before he first started dreaming of this, slotting himself between Nick’s legs, grinding against him slow and filthy, breathing into his open mouth and tasting his breath. He can hardly believe he gets to have it. He can only hope he’ll get to have it again.
He’s taken out of his thoughts when Nick’s hand moves from its place in Noah’s hair, moving between their bodies to reach down the front of Noah’s sweats, palming him. Nick’s smile is wicked when Noah groans and he wants to kiss it off his pretty face, but he’s too distracted to do fucking anything. It feels too good. He’s been waiting for this for too long.
“Shit, Nick.” Noah gasps, resting his forehead against Nick’s shoulder to try and catch his breath. He feels so much. Nick’s hand is sliding into his underwear to grip his cock but he feels him everywhere.
“Come on,” Nick says, his other hand moving to the back of Noah’s head, fingers threading through his hair as his hand moves over his cock. He tugs, trying to lift Noah’s head but Noah fights it. He can’t stomach meeting his eyes right now, not when he’s a mess like this. “Come on, Noah. Look at me, please.”
When Noah lifts his head to look at him, he wants to be embarrassed by how wrecked he knows he looks, but he can’t when Nick is cupping his cheek and smiling, gaze soft and comforting. Grounding in a way that only Nick can be.
“Is this what you wanted?” Nick asks, grip tightening, and Noah is nodding, because of course it is. “Yeah, me too.”
Noah groans, closes his eyes. The admission overwhelms him, although he supposes he already knew, with the way Nick is touching him. He’s so surrounded. He didn’t know it could feel like this. He was waiting for Nick this whole time.
He’s nipping at Nick’s neck when he slides his hand between them, popping open the button of Nick’s jeans and reaching in to take him in his hand, too. The angle is uncomfortable, cramped, but he can tell he got the grip right when Nick gasps, rhythm faltering for a moment.
“Fuck,” Nick groans, breath warm in Noah’s mouth when their lips meet, just barely, more resting over each other than kissing. Nick gets his rhythm back quickly. Noah finds his determination to get Nick there first, tightening his grip and speeding up, until Nick is speaking again. “That’s it. That’s good, baby.”
The pet name alone would be enough to send him over the edge, with or without Nick’s hand moving over him expertly and perfect. Noah is spilling over Nick’s hand with a desperate gasp before he has the chance to realize he’s doing it.
He buries his face in Nick’s neck to catch his breath and calm down, placing kisses there. Nick’s breath is still labored when he removes his hand, wipes the cum on his jeans, which he would find gross with anyone else but endearing with Nick.
Noah’s own hand has stilled and Nick immediately tries readjusting when Noah takes his hand out.
“No, wait,” Noah says, placing a hand over Nick’s to stop him. He’s scooting down on the sofa, even more cramped than before, face to face with Nick’s cock. “Let me, please.”
He knows they don’t have much longer to be alone together. He’s not sure how much time has passed since they started, but he swears he heard Jolly moving around in his bunk. He would rather have the chance to tell them, instead of them finding out by getting an eye full, but he can’t let the day end without getting Nick in his mouth.
Now that he knows he’s allowed it, he wants it now.
He’s surprised by how much he likes it, immediately, on the first slide in. Maybe it’s just because it’s Nick, but Noah thinks he tastes like absolute heaven.
He doesn’t have any tricks, just what he knows he likes. He may be inexperienced in this realm, but pulls out all the stops he knows, anyway, cupping Nick’s balls in one hand, working what his mouth can’t reach with the other, sucking on the head, pointed tongue dipping in.
He knows he’s doing a good job when Nick gasps, tightens the grip he has on Noah’s hair.
“Fuck, Noah, how did you get so good at this?”
From thinking about you, he thinks but doesn’t say, just moans around Nick’s cock and giggles when the grip Nick has in his hair tightens even more.
He can tell he’s close. From the shaking of his thighs, the groans getting more and more frequent and harder to keep quiet. He would pray Jolly and Folio don’t hear but right now, he couldn’t care less. Right now all he cares about is Nick’s hand tightening in his hair, and the tiny little moans of his name.
“Noah,” Nick says, cupping his cheek, so gentle for the position they’re in and he basks in it. “Noah, I’m gonna cum.”
That’s all he needs to hear before he’s taking in as much as he can, eyes brimming with tears but it’s worth it for the sounds Nick is making, thrusting shallowly into Noah’s mouth before stilling, cum spilling down his throat.
He swallows every drop. He knows Nick would like it and is proven right when he looks up at him, eyes as blown as he’s ever seen.
He’s tucking Nick back into his pants and crawling up his body. Nick doesn’t hesitate before cupping the back of his head, bringing their lips together, licking into his mouth.
“You did so good, baby.” Nick says and Noah glows.
He wants to talk about it. They will talk about it.
They don’t have the opportunity before they hear the sound of a curtain sliding open.
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writer-in-theory · 2 years
Text
black box labels — steve harrington
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summary: when something you have been trying desperately to hide from steve comes into light, you fear the worst, not knowing how wonderful steve could be. pairing: steve harrington x gn!reader category: hurt/comfort content warnings: language, heavy discussions of eating disorder recovery word count: 2.1k a/n: this is purely a self-indulgent fic because i just started thinking about how good steve would be in this kind of situation. also i couldn't resist the lil play on words there in the title with my area of study, so there we go. as always, a huge thank you to @lcvingprentjss for beta-ing and for writing the summary. i hope y'all enjoy <3
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It wasn’t obvious, at first, but the moment Steve put it together he wondered how he’d never seen it before. 
He thinks this should have been a more significant moment, the day he realizes that you were suffering from something much more severe than what a tiny town like Hawkins was equipped to deal with. He might’ve pictured you sitting him down one night after he snuck through your window (even when your parents kept telling him to just come through the front door). You would have sat him on your bed and held both of his hands, teary-eyed as you admitted it. Then Steve could have hugged you immediately and reassured you even when he had no idea what to say in that situation.
Instead, Steve found out because of a stupid question.
“Babe, I’m grabbing a snack. Do you want anything?” Steve asked as he stood from where the two of you were wrapped up in each other on the couch. You considered the question, searching his eyes for a moment before shaking your head.
“No, I’m okay. I’m gonna change though, I’ll be back in a few minutes,” you told him, pulling yourself from the couch and taking the steps two at a time to get to your bedroom. It wouldn’t have bothered him, it didn’t bother him at the time, but eventually, that near-sprint out of the room would replay in a loop in Steve’s head.
“Y/N’s not really a snacking person,” your sibling called out from where they were working on homework at the kitchen island.
“Doesn’t seem like any of you are,” Steve pointed out, already knowing the pantry would be minimally stocked with snack foods like usual. It was never a problem though, for all he knew Steve was just used to being able to pick out his own groceries since he was twelve. He barely had to look before he was grabbing a box of Cheez-Its and turning to lean against the kitchen counter.
“Oh, no I just keep my snacks in my room.”
“What?” Steve nearly choked on the tiny handful of crackers he’d tossed in his mouth, eyeing your sibling with a strange look. He’d been dating you for several months now, so he knew your family and had been around to babysit your kid sibling the same way he’d babysit all the other kiddos in town, it seemed. He could normally feel comfortable enough to crack a joke with them, but this? This was weird. “What, scared of someone taking it?”
“No, dumbass, it’s because of Y/N’s, you know, eating thing,” your sibling answered coolly, as if that answered everything Steve could ever possibly need to know about the situation. Except, it really didn’t because what the hell did that mean? “I’m trying not to stress them out too much.”
“What eating thing?”
Steve witnessed the moment your sibling realized they messed up, or it was more so a look of pity that he was having to find out this way, from someone who wasn’t you. “Shit, I thought you knew.” In any other circumstance, he might’ve scolded them for cursing but instead, all Steve could do was stare at them with blank horror, hands fumbling as he fought to smack the Cheez-It box behind him on the counter. “Y/N has an eating disorder. Or they did. Still do. They’re doing better but, it’s...it’s still hard, you know?”
Eating disorder. 
It was the one-time Steve was glad he’d paid attention in health class last year. Mr. Turner had talked about eating disorders once, talked about how some people didn’t see their bodies as they were. All the words from that lesson flashed through Steve’s brain at once, all the possible diagnoses and the signs, what to do if you thought someone you knew was doing that. 
And shit, it all made sense, didn’t it?
The signs were plastered everywhere for him to read, even on that box he’d been holding moments before. Steve picked it up then, allowing his fingers to run over the dark black rectangle of permanent marker where he knew the nutrition facts rested. Steve knew the other boxes and bags in the pantry were like that too. He’d always assumed your family just didn’t care about what was in the food, but he never once considered, not this.
And fuck, has he ever actually seen you eat? Any time he suggests a dinner date, you’re making a new suggestion for a movie night or a day at the park. You’re always working on homework in the cafeteria, a lunchbox in front of you but now that Steve thinks about it he doesn’t think you’ve ever actually opened it in front of him. 
“I—how long has this, I mean how long have they...?” Steve managed to get out around the knot tying itself in his throat. He hated to think of you suffering all this time, right under his nose. He could have been helping you, and fuck if he knew what to do but he could’ve been there. He wouldn’t have been suggesting dinner dates or offering to get you snacks if it only upset you and made you run out of the room. He could have known.
“Y/N won’t tell us how long they, you know, but they’ve been working on it for like a year now.”
“I need to talk to them,” Steve rushed out, pushing off from the counter and practically sprinting up the stairs. His heart hadn’t raced this fast since he’d fought off a full-sized Demogorgon with nothing but a nail bat. The hallway felt ten times longer than normal and he just had to get to you, to see you and tell you how much he loved you.
When he nearly skidded past your bedroom, he noticed that your door was already open. You were sitting on the edge of your bed, arms wrapped around your middle and head tilted down.
“Did you hear...?” Steve asked gently, stepping just inside the doorway but not wanting to scare you. The tiny shrug you gave in response made Steve want to cry, made his brown eyes well up with the tears, and made his lip quiver a little as he fought to control the response. “Y/N.”
“It’s fine, Steve, I get it,” you answered, confusing him more.
“What do you mean?”
“I know this is too much,” you whispered, but the words smacked him like they had been sent through a concert-grade amplifier. “You don’t have to stay.”
Steve’s expression crumbled then, as did his resolve. He rushed over to you then, knees rubbing against the carpet as he kneeled in front of you, hands reaching out for yours and head tilting down so he could get a glimpse of your tear-stained face. “Sweetheart, please look at me, please,” he practically begged, “I miss that sweet face of yours.”
You lifted your head then, eyes still swimming with tears that fell down your cheeks but there it was, a tiny hint of the smile that could break through even the heaviest of cloud covers. 
“There you are,” he whispered like you were the very person who hung the sun in the sky. And, well, maybe you were because life was simply better with you around. Steve thought he’d loved his past partners, but no one could ever compare to how right you made him feel. “Y/N, you will never be too much for me. I just wish I knew.”
“I didn’t want to make you deal with that. Steve, it’s, it’s not fucking pretty, okay? It’s not just being hungry,” you stammered out through the wobbly tears, hands squeezing him as you fought to make him understand. “It’s pretty fucking ugly, is what it is.”
“I don’t care if it’s not pretty, Sweetheart. I love you and I want to be there for you no matter what that looks like,” Steve told you, thumbs rubbing over the skin of your hands. 
“Oh yeah?” you challenged, a bit of fire sparking in your eyes at the promise. “You really want to come over for a dinner date and watch me fucking sob into my pasta because I can’t stand the thought of eating it? You want to have to treat me like one of those middle schoolers’ you mom around, want to have to remind me every day to have something for lunch? How about being the one to grocery shop and making sure I’m not around while you scratch out all the labels because I can’t handle even seeing them anymore? I’m so much work, Steve, you don’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t understand what you’re going through,” he admitted, pulling one of your hands closer to him so he could press a kiss gently to it. “But I’m here for when you want to let me in. I’ll be right there through all the tears, telling you how proud I am that you went on that dinner date. And I’ll go home and get rid of every last scale in my house, and I’ll scratch out all the labels there too because I want to be there for you, no matter what that looks like. I’m not just here for your stunning face, you know, I want to see every part of you.”
You didn’t say anything for a long time, simply watching the way your hands entwined with his, eyes following his thumb trace its pattern back and forth along the back of your hand. Then, shockingly, you let out a laugh, still shaky through the residual tears but real. “That’ll take forever, Stevie. You have so many snacks.”
“And I’ll do it,” Steve promised, unable to stifle the bright smile that washed over his face at the sign of happiness in yours. It was infectious, your joy. “Every last one, Y/N. You don’t have to hide any part of yourself from me just because you think it’s something I won’t want to see, okay? Dustin really likes you; you know, I think he’d kill me himself if I ever let you go.”
“Oh, as long as you’re only in it to keep Dustin happy,” you teased, sliding off your bed onto the floor where you could wrap your arms around Steve. It was like taking that first breath after waking up, like remembering you’re alive and feeling so grateful for it. Steve never wanted to let you go, wanted to keep you wrapped up in his arms where you were safe from whatever had made all this start in the first place.
“Yeah, it’s only because of Dustin. Not because of that laugh I love so much, or your jokes that come outta nowhere. It’s not the way you just get me, or the way you always grab my sleeve when we’re walking the hallways, so you don’t lose me. And don’t even get me started about the way y—”
“Okay, okay, I get it,” you laughed, reaching a hand up to cover his mouth for only a moment. “I get it, you like me a little.”
“I love you a whole bunch, Y/N,” Steve corrected, planting a kiss on your hairline.
It felt like the two of you stayed right there on your bedroom floor for hours, just wrapped up in one another. And the next morning, Steve found breakfast for himself as usual and gently slid you a little cup of fruit he’d cut up. He held your hand when you just stared at it for a while, he sat there at the dining room table far past when he’d finished his own breakfast, talking about silly anecdotes about all the babysitting he’d done recently and how Coach was on his ass at practice until, eventually, you picked up a piece of strawberry and let it slip between your lips.
“I’m proud of you, Y/N,” he told you, after each bite until eventually, it got a little easier, until the entire cup was gone, and he was beaming that brilliant smile that made your entire chest warm. 
“Thanks for staying, Steve,” you would whisper, and Steve would shake his head because it would become his new life mission to make sure that someday you’d never question your worthiness of his love.
“Always, Sweetheart, always.”
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TAGLIST @hargvroves @eddieussy @alessiamargaux @misha-the-mild @minispice-1 @shadetea @emily19990 @alexxavicry @raven2008
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lustfulslxt · 4 months
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ok, here's an idea. so tk that one song that blew up on tiktok like a year ago (escapism by RAYE) anyways, what about a reader who js broke up w her bf and is doing the things in the song (in the back of the taxi sniffing coke) and for the lyrics that are like "24 hrs since my ex did dead it, I got a new man on me it's abt to get sweaty" but like Chris is the new man on her?? idk if it makes sence, and u don't have to if u don't want, js think it'd be cool!!
Escapism - Chris Sturniolo
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warnings : mentions of alcohol, drug use, smut
a/n : i did change it up a bit, so i hope you don’t mind!!
“I found someone else.”
His voice keeps replaying over and over in my head, on a twisted loop, tearing my heart to shreds. It was so sudden and unexpected. To say I was prepared would be a lie. I should’ve seen the signs, but I was just so blind to it all.
I knew he loved me, but I guess I also knew deep down inside that he wasn’t ready. He kept telling me everything I wanted to hear. It was music to my ears to hear that someone cared for me so much, but a voice within kept whispering that he wasn’t ready to fill those big shoes. I need a man that is ready to fully commit to a future with me- no hesitation, no doubt. Even though I knew he was good to me in every way possible, he just couldn’t give me everything I needed and wanted. I knew it. I just didn’t want to believe it. I wanted to keep living a fairytale in hopes that one day he would be sure about what we had. I figured the longer I waited for him to change, eventually he would become who I needed him to be. I didn’t want to have to start over.
It hurts. I’m sitting here overthinking, a million and one questions running through my head. Unable to sleep, creating different scenarios, while making a mental list of regrets, but I can’t keep blaming myself for someone else’s inability to provide the type of love I deserve. Tonight is just like any other night, difficult as hell, but I’ll do what I’ve always done. I’ll get over it, I’ll get through it. I’ll be fine.
I’m going to push this all out of my mind. I don’t want to just sit and dwell on what could’ve been or the wasted time, I want to feel free and have fun. So, I’m going to go out and do me. I don’t need a man that isn’t fully in it, and until I find one that is, I’m going to do as I please.
Just last night, I was torn up, completely devastated. Now, I’m heading out the door to go get drunk. My uber is parked right outside, waiting for me. Confirming it’s actually my ride, I slip in the back.
“Good evening.” The woman speaks from the front.
“Hello.” I breathe, eager to feel something other than the terrible aching in my chest.
“Having fun tonight I see.” She grins, looking at my destination on her maps.
“Yes ma’am. Need to get out and get my mind off things.” I admit, shrugging to myself.
“So long as you’re safe.”
I only smile and nod at her in the rear view mirror, turning my head to watch the scenery go by. Doing my best to not let my mind wander to the night before, I close my eyes and hum along to the radio. Already consumed by the music, I grin to myself, letting the lyrics take over and dictate my night.
It doesn’t take long before we pull up to the bar, I’m tipping the driver and making my way out as she wishes me fun. From the outside, it doesn’t look to be too busy, which I’m thankful for. I can hear the chatter and the mellow music outside the front entrance, welcoming me inside.
I walk inside, the atmosphere already calming my slight nerves. I can tell I’m going to enjoy myself. I head up to the bar, taking an empty seat at the island, and wait for the bartender to finish up with a few customers at the end. It only takes a couple of minutes before he’s heading over to me with a smile on his face.
“Hey, what can I get for you tonight?” He asks, laying the towel in his hand on the counter.
“I don’t care what, but something strong, please.” I reply, sliding him my card. “Actually, could you start me a tab?”
He nods, “Sure thing.”
He walks away for a moment, punching into his little register. He slips my card back to me and starts making my drink. I watch as he basically fills it to the brim of some kind of dark liquor. He steps back over, sliding me the small glass with a slight smirk. I take it and down the entirety of it, cringing at the burning sensation.
“Keep them coming, please.” I speak, lifting my head and letting the alcohol do its thing.
Shots on shots, I’m now very intoxicated. I’ve never done anything like this, getting fucked up at a bar by myself, but I have to say, it’s not bad. Anything to rid myself of my sorrows. The liquor is coursing through my veins, making my body hot. I can hear the music booming in my ears, though it’s not even that loud. I don’t feel the aching in my chest anymore, and my thoughts aren’t consumed with regrets and self doubt. I feel good.
It’s been two hours since I got to the bar, I’ve had countless of shots and I know I can’t take anymore. I’m going to have a terrible hangover when I get up in the morning. I slide the empty cup in front of me, grabbing my bag and waving the bartender down.
“You can go ahead and close my tab out. I am fucked.” I slurred, shaking my head with a faint smile.
“You got it. Do you need me to order you an uber?” He questions, his brows furrowed with concern.
“Thank you for the offer, but mine’s already waiting outside.” I smile, waving my phone in my hand.
“Alright, take care.”
I give him a salute, drunken giggles pouring out of my mouth. Turning on my heel, I make my way to the front door. Upon exiting the building, the cool wind blows through my hair, and I’m inhaling a breath of fresh air. My eyes scan the street in front of me, in search of my uber driver. A few cars down, I see the car waiting. Attempting to be quick, I stupidly speed walk, causing myself to trip a few times. Luckily, I still hold my ground and don’t completely eat shit. I reach the back door, swiftly pulling it open and sliding in.
“Uh, what’s up?” A male voice speaks, startling me.
Startling me, because he’s also sitting in the backseat. I furrow my eyebrows at him and look around, noticing the car is filled with smoke and the aroma of weed. Then I return my gaze to him, taking in his appearance as he’s cladded in black. He’s got a black t-shirt underneath a black zip up hoodie, black sweats, black air forces, and a black hat sitting backwards on his head.
“I didn’t realize I booked a share ride.” I stammer, confusion plastered over my face.
“You didn’t.” He chuckled, “This isn’t your uber.”
“Swear down? It definitely is, I wouldn’t get in a random car.” I point out, slightly stumbling over my words.
He continues laughing, and that’s when I noticed the blunt in his hand, the cherry red and smoking.
“I’m 100% sure that it’s not, ma. Here, look.” He says, showing me his phone.
It’s displayed on the screen, the type of car and his uber driver, which is definitely this one. I shake my head in confusion, pulling my phone out to show him. Only once I unlock my phone, I notice that I hadn’t fully ordered the ride. My face heats up, and I would be utterly humiliated if I weren’t drunk right now.
“Guess I had one too many.” I mumble, a smile evidently taking over my lips. “Sorry.”
“No worries. We can share.” He shrugs, indicating it’s no big deal.
I raise my eyebrows in question, but he only leans forward to the driver, asking, “Would you mind dropping her off wherever she needs to go? I’ll pay for it.”
“You don’t need to pay-“ He cuts me off with a wave of his hand, continuing his conversation with the driver.
Seconds later, he sits back with a triumphant smile on his face. He sends me a thumbs up, bringing the blunt to his lips and inhaling it, the cherry burning brighter. After puffing on it a couple of times, he extends it out to me, offering me a hit. I don’t know what came over me, but I gladly accept it, bringing it to my lips and sucking it in.
“What’s your name?” He asks, observing me intently.
“Y/N.” I answer, blowing the smoke out and passing him the blunt. “You?”
He takes it with a small smirk, replying, “Chris.”
I nod, leaning forward to give the driver my address, which he types into his maps. I look back at Chris to see he’s already looking at me with a cheeky grin, which causes me to giggle.
“What?” I ask, a large smile adorning my face.
He shakes his head, “Nothing. Just wondering why you’re as fucked up as you are when you’re by yourself.”
“I am not fucked up.” I state, defensively.
“You got into my uber, thinking it was yours, but you never even booked one.” He points out, chuckling at my predicament.
“Fair.” I laugh, ultimately shrugging, “I got dumped, and I decided to get my mind off of it. What better way to do that than getting shit faced?”
“Fair.” He repeats me, laughing. “You don’t have any friends to go out with?”
I shake my head, my lip softly curling up, “Not really.”
“I won’t pry.” He tosses his hands up in defense, before taking another drag from his blunt.
“Do you think he’d be cool to stop at a gas station or something?” I whisper to Chris, suddenly wanting to drink again.
“Yeah, surely.” He agrees with furrowed eyebrows.
He leans up and begins conversing with the driver. I can’t help but let my mind wander again. I’m drunk, in the back of a car with a stranger, and somehow my thoughts still run back to my ex boyfriend. What is actually wrong with me?
“Yo, you good?” Chris’ voice snaps me from my thoughts.
“Hm? Oh yeah, could use another bottle or something.” I shrug in response.
“We’re about to stop at 7/11. I can get you one if you need.” He says.
I immediately shake my head, “No, no. You already offered to pay for my ride, that’s more than enough.”
“It’s no problem.” He casually replies, reaching his blunt back out in my direction.
A smile reaches my lips once again as I take it from him, puffing on it and letting the smoke fill my lungs. I can’t help but notice the way he intently watches me, his bottom lip snug between his teeth. He’s actually very attractive.
We continue talking and joking around, passing time before we pull up to the store. I step out, prancing towards the door, Chris joining me. I spin around, looking at him with a cheeky smile, almost tripping in the process. Chris reaches out and catches my arm, laughter pouring out of both of our mouths.
“Take it easy, mama.” He chuckles, tossing an arm around my shoulder.
I playfully push him away, both of us staggering apart from each other, breathless from our heavy laughter. We get to the door and he leans over me, pulling it open for me, him following in suit. I’m instantly heading to the coolers while Chris heads to the snack aisle. As I’m browsing through the alcohol, I see Chris’ reflection in the glass doors, his arms full of a bunch of junk food.
I turn around with a huge smile, “That’s a lot of snacks.”
He smiled back, shuffling on his feet, “Yeah. I was actually going to ask you if you would maybe want to come to my hotel and hangout?”
It doesn’t even take me a second before I’m nodding, “Sounds like fun.”
“Great. What are we drinking?” He asks, directing our attention back to the coolers.
I open the door, grabbing a random mini six pack of beer. I hold it up to him and he shrugs, neither of us caring. I head to another cooler, looking for something to drink aside from the alcohol. I decide on just a two liter of pepsi. We make our way to the register, piling our things on the counter.
“ID, please.” The man behind the counter says, his voice monotone and bored.
I can’t help the giggles emitting from my mouth, pulling my card out and showing him. He scans all of our things and I swipe my debit card, much to Chris’ dismay. Retrieving our bags, we’re out the door and in the uber again.
“Change of plans, just the hotel.” Chris tells the driver. “Sorry for all the confusion.”
“No worries.” He responds, pulling out of the parking lot.
It takes us around ten minutes to get Chris’ hotel, and in that time, we’ve already grown closer in our intoxicated states. We’ve both gotten extremely touchy, but not even in a sexual way, though I wouldn’t mind. Chris puts our bags of snacks and drinks in his backpack, then we get out of the car. Chris tips the driver, before he places his hand on my back, walking me into the hotel.
We head to the elevator and I’m already pulling a beer out of his bag. I pop the cap off and place it in my pocket, taking a swig as we wait for the elevator to get to the main floor. Chris looks at me and chuckles, grabbing the bottle from my hand and drinking it himself. The doors open and we enter it, him taking another drink as he presses the button to level five, the brown liquor pouring into his mouth so smoothly.
“You’re so hot.” I drunkenly say, bursting into laughter at my slip.
“Yeah, but look at you.” He smirks, nodding at me as he looks me up and down. “You look like you taste good.”
My jaw goes slack, the atmosphere growing more tense. Quickly recovering, I shrug, “Only one way to find out.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” He flashes his pearly white teeth at me, his hand finding its way to my back again, pulling me into him.
His face is swiftly leaning in, his lips meeting mine in seconds. The kiss is soft but hungry, like we’ve been yearning for each other all night. Maybe we have. His hand on my back pulls me even closer, our bodies pressing together, his hand holding the beer bottle out as to not spill in on me. His tongue swipes in between my lips, asking for entrance as one of my hands rests on his chest, the other going around his neck. Just as he shoves his tongue in my mouth, the elevator dings and the doors open, revealing an elderly couple. We quickly pull away and they look at us with wide eyes, Chris and I just chuckling as we exit, making room for them. We look back at them, then back at each other, laughing once more.
As soon as Chris unlocks the door, he’s pulling me in and pinning me to the wall, kicking the door shut with his foot. His lips meet mine in a feverish kiss, his tongue immediately slipping into my mouth. I can’t help but moan at the feeling, enjoying the way he seems so desperate for me. He leans to the side and places the bottle on the table, slipping his bag off his shoulders as well. His hands meet my hips, pulling me into him, his tongue exploring every inch of my mouth. He quickly shakes off his jacket, his lips never leaving mine.
He then swiftly lifts me up, hooking my legs around his waist, walking me to the bed. He sets me down, pulling his shirt over his head as I do the same, leaving me topless. He grins at the sight of my bare breasts, his hands immediately groping them, eliciting low moans from me. We both kick off our shoes before he lays me back, hovering above me.
“You’re so pretty, mama.” He breathlessly whispers against my lips.
I let out soft whimpers as his lips trail down my neck, leaving hot kisses the lower he went. He hands massage my waist, squeezing ever so slightly. My hands move back and forth from his hair to his bare chest, feeling all over him and keeping him flush against me. His skin is so hot against mine and I can’t get enough of it.
“You sure you wanna do this?” He asks, pausing to look me in the eyes.
I frantically nod, no doubt or hesitation whatsoever. His hands tug on my pants, swiftly pulling them down and tossing them aside. He kisses up from my feet to my thighs, leaving warm lines of saliva in his wake. I can feel my legs shaking a little bit, anticipating what’s to come. His nose brushes against the fabric of my panties, and I can feel his hot breath against my core, making me whimper.
“Please.” I whine, my fingers latching onto his hair.
“What do you need, mama?” He asks, flattening his tongue against the wet patch on my center.
I can’t help but moan and buck my hips, desperate for more, “Please, I need you. I don’t care, just you.”
Just like that, my underwear is lying beside my pants and Chris has my legs over his shoulders. He blows cool hair onto my dripping pussy, the feeling causing shivers to travel up my spine. Without another word, his tongue is plunging into my folds, eliciting a loud moan from me. His mouth moves vigorously against me, licking and sucking every inch.
“Fuck, I knew you would taste good.” He hums into me, “I could devour you all day everyday, never get tired of it.”
All I can muster are lewd moans, my body jerking as he suddenly thrusts two fingers into my entrance. His tongue laps my clit, flicking side to side over it, his fingers stroking me and curling so perfectly inside. My legs visibly tremble, clamping around his head as I feel myself being brought to the edge. With another few pumps of his fingers, and the rapid shake of his head side to side, his tongue pressed firmly against my clit the entire time, my back arches off the bed as I let go, reaching my climax with a loud cry emitting from my mouth.
“So pretty, mama. Such a good girl, letting me taste you.” He praises, licking up every drop.
He lifts himself up, coming back above me. He places his fingers at my mouth, tapping lightly on my lips, so I take them in my mouth, sucking my essence from him. He moans at the sight, immediately replacing his fingers with his tongue, the taste of me remaining behind as we kissed.
“Take your pants off.” I say, breathless from the feverish kissing.
“Are you sure?” He questions, to which I nod, and he pulls them off, along with his boxers.
The sight of his dick has my mouth watering; it’s long, girthy, and rock hard. His tip is bright red, throbbing in need as it drips precum. I wrap my hand around it, pumping up and down a few times, before pushing him onto his back and straddling him. His eyes widen at the sudden change, but nonetheless, his hands meet my thighs and he begins stroking them back and forth. His erection is now pressed between my legs, poking into my heat. I slowly grind down on it, lubricating him with my juices, pulling low moans from both of us.
“Fuck.” He groans, his hands tightening on my hips. “Just wanna be inside of you, mama.”
Granting his wish, I lift up, positioning him at my entrance. As I begin sliding down, his hands interlock with mine, squeezing them as I take his whole length. My jaw goes slack, taking in the feeling of him inside me. I feel him shudder beneath me, thrusting up a bit, snapping me back into it. Our hands rest beside his shoulders, still intertwined, and I slowly begin bouncing. Leaning down, I bring my lips to his, capturing them in a heated kiss. The speed of my motion increases, his hips now thrusting upwards to meet mine, hitting just the right spots.
“You feel so good around my cock. So tight, so warm and wet.” Chris moans, burying his face in the crook of my neck.
The room is hot, our bodies sweaty and sticking together. The smell of sex fills the air, the sounds of our moans and heavy breathing, along with the wetness at our centers, echoing off the walls. The bed rocks back and forth, though not too loud. His dick continued digging into me, my walls wrapping around him so snugly, my arousal being the perfect lubrication.
His upward thrusts pick up, his hands now on my hips, holding me in place as he drills into me. My face falls into his shoulder, my teeth biting at the skin, preventing myself from screaming at the overwhelming sensation. His hands find my ass, gripping and spreading my cheeks, helping me rock into him so perfectly. It takes but only a second for me to tumble over the edge, loud moans falling from my mouth as I clench around him. I feel the hot wetness pouring out of me, soaking his dick and balls. My nails dig into his chest, attempting to help release the built up pressure inside of me.
“Damn, mama.” He groans, guttural moans escaping his throat. “Look so good when you cum, baby.”
I bring my lips back to his, kissing him with everything in me as his thrusts grow sloppy, indicating he’s close to finishing. I tighten around him once more, giving him that extra push, and his hips sputter, abdomen flexing as he lets go, shooting his load into me. I continue riding him for a minute, helping him through his orgasm, before slowly pulling off and whining at the loss of being filled up by him. I collapse down next to him, my head lying on his shoulder, his head on mine. We both struggle to catch our breath, our bodies slick with sweat, both of us heaving from exhaustion.
“I’m glad your boyfriend dumped you.” His voice croaks out, slightly hoarse.
I can’t help the chuckle that leaves my lips as I pat his chest, “You and me both. He could never fuck me as good as you just did.”
a/n : okay, sorry, i actually hate this :((( i feel i drifted from the request but i didn’t know how to bring it back without rewriting it and i just didn’t have it in me. so sorry, i hope you still enjoy it! <3
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wordsofhoneydew · 9 days
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happy wednesday <3
thank you to my lovelies @anincompletelist @suseagull04 @itsmaybitheway @eusuntgratie @heysweetheart-writes @rockyroadkylers @magicandarchery for tagging me !! your snippets were absolutely scrumptious
i started my first song fic!! so i’ll be sharing a longer snippet than i usually would:
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Henry is walking back now, taking careful steps around the crowd of dancing people as he tries not to spill the tray of shots he’s holding. A high pitched giggle escapes his lips as he sets it down on the table in front of Alex, but Alex never strays his focus away from Henry’s face. The way his blue eyes gleam reminding him of the water at his father’s lake house back in Texas— dark and all consuming—as he looks back at Alex so intently. He could get lost in them forever.
just another blip in my heart:
He’s laughing at some suggestive joke Pez makes, head tipped back and smile completely unguarded. The sheen sweat on his cheekbones makes his skin glow under the luminescent lights of the bar, as if he was sculpted by Michelangelo himself. And Alex just watches him in quietude, utterly infatuated with Henry’s natural beauty. It makes his heart clench in his chest; knowing that he can’t have him, that Henry doesn’t feel the same way as he does.
So he looks away begrudgingly, grabbing another shot and downing it without a flinch or grimace, hoping that the buzz under his skin and the raucous music will eventually drown out the thoughts of the pretty blond man in front of him.
Then Nora is grabbing Alex by his wrist and pulling him up to the dance floor. He bites back a groan as he gives in to her, and places his hands on her waist.
“What’s up with you, Alejandro? You’ve been sulking all night.” Damn Nora’s perceptiveness and ability to read right through him. He thought he did a fair job at hiding the looming feeling of dejection that comes to him whenever Henry’s around or weighing heavily in his thoughts.
”Nothing.” Alex catches a glimpse of Henry watching them and turns around so that his back is facing toward him. Out of sight out of mind.
Nora looks over his shoulder as she continues to dance, a knowing smirk spreading across her lips. “Oh I see, still pining over Henry?”
Alex rolls his eyes as he tries to keep up with the pace of Nora’s movements. “What d’ya think?” he practically grumbles. “It’s not like I can turn off my feelings like a fuckin’ light switch.”
“Loosen up, man. Or just talk to him. That white boy is literally in love with you, stop being a coward and just go for it.”
A coward. That’s exactly what Alex is, and if it means it will protect his heart from inevitable rejection, then so fucking be it.
“I need another drink.” He mumbles, not caring whether Nora hears or not.
The night fades away into Alex stumbling through the front door of his apartment, still buzzed with adrenaline and alcohol running through his system.
After a much needed shower and change into a comfortable pair of sweats, the fuzziness subsides, his feelings begin to feel tangible, more real. His mind replays the events of the night; prim and proper Henry loosened up after a few drinks of gin and tonic, how he swayed his hips subtly to Get Low and smiled to himself as other people gyrated against each other. He recalls how they caught each other's eyes every so often, then noticing how Henry quickly averted his eyes every time. Tonight he was beautiful and glowing, and absolutely captivating in the way he just was—In the way he always is. Alex misses the person he was before he found himself enamored with Henry; gregarious and the life of the fucking party. Now he’s stuck in an endless loop of pining after someone he can never have and convincing himself he’s over it.
sometimes I think of calling you up:
Alex is sprawled out on his couch with his TV playing something he could care less about. As suspected, the effects of alcohol can only do so much to drown out the despair of unrequited love, his mind no longer buzzing from the sound of club music, but circling around only one person’s name over again. Henry Henry Henry.
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minkkumaz · 9 months
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A SUMMER WITH YOU
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spending your first time with your friend woonhak made you yearn for more time together. you had the whole summer ahead of you, and maybe you wanted to be a little bit more than friends.
THE DAY I MET YOU series
PAIRING kim woonhak x fem!reader WC 6.4k TAGS adults dni. fluff. mutual pining. they're so in love oh my gosh. cocky woonhak for a hot minute. kissing wink wink. TAGLIST @woon2u @lumixen @woonhakist @jungwoning OMI NOTE holy shit i've been absolutely dreading writing this but i finally pulled through SEVENTEEN pages later god i am literally tearing up because i finished. definitely not proofread and i am not sorry for any spelling mistakes.
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that night probably changed the entire trajectory of your summer. once you were secure behind your closed curtains, you jumped up and down with pure happiness, before lunging yourself on your bed to scream into your soft pillows. how the hell did you end up getting courage to be so casual with woonhak?
you rolled on your back to stare up at the ceiling, holding his cardigan close to your chest. the scent of it was very prominent, making your face heat up. the whole thing replayed in your head in an endless loop, making you lightheaded trying to think about it. there was something about him.
what if it was the way he looked at you, making you feel as if there was a slight chance he felt the same way? your heart fluttered at the thought of it, unable to hide your smile. sleep came easy as you dreamt about the handsome boy next door.
the morning greeted you with melodic chirps of numerous birds, and the sound of an object hitting against the glass of your bedroom window. wait, what? 
jumping out of bed, you slipped your feet into cozy slippers and approached your curtains to unravel them. as you revealed the outside world, the light made you rub your eyes sleepily in an attempt to adjust. 
in front of you was woonhak, whom you could not stop thinking about last night. he wore a grin on his face and gestured for you to open your window. if you weren’t awake a few seconds ago, you were now.
“morning, sleepyhead. did i wake you?” he asks curiously at your tired figure. though he was entirely trying to keep his cool. it felt like when he met you for the first time, and he was convinced there wasn’t a time that you weren’t absolutely adorable.
“a little, what time is it?” you hum.
“just a bit after eight am. i– i was wondering if you wanted to come over for breakfast! jaehyun is cooking as an apology for making us leave early last night.” his words have underlying desperation. how could you tell him no?
“sounds good, woon, i’ll be over in a sec, kay? just need to wake up a little.” you mumble, moving off into your room without closing the window. in the corner of your eye you saw him running off downstairs like a puppy.
slipping on woonhak’s cardigan, you lazily make your way to the bathroom. once you turn on the tap to splash your face with water, you feel a little more awake. you go throughout the rest of your usual morning routine; brushing your teeth, applying skin care, and using other products to refresh yourself.
ready to go over, you shoot your mom (aka, the less strict parent) a message to let her know you’ll be at the neighbors house for breakfast. she was an early riser, definitely much so in comparison to your dad. and to add onto that, she was much more understanding. 
neither of your parents knew about this mystery boy yet, but it was better to briefly tell your mom rather than your dad. he would probably kill you and forbid you from going outside the house ever.
you crossed over to woonhak’s front door and knocked. there was a little bit of laughing behind the door and what you’d assume to be harmless fighting, before he opened to greet you. “hi– ahm come in!” woon’s eyes immediately darted to the piece of clothing that wrapped you snuggly. the piece of clothing that just so happened to be his.
“thank you for inviting me over woon.” you tell him, toeing off your shoes to set to the side and walk in. “uhm, i also have your cardigan from last night!”
in your attempt to take it off he rushes to pull it back over your shoulder, “no– don’t even worry about the cardigan. it’s still kind of cold, yknow aha… unless you want another sweater i have plenty upstairs but um! for now you can wear it is what i mean…”
“thank you then!” you smile, trying your best not to make him feel awkward.
when he walked alongside you into his kitchen, you saw the familiar faces sitting around a table and passing around plates. the sight was really cute, boys in your previous state were much more mundane when it came to their friendships. it was refreshing to see everyone taking care of one another. because of this observation you realized you never really got all of their names.
“hey, y/n! did you and woonhak have fun last night?” jaehyun, the only one you knew, asked you while wiggling his eyebrows.
“yeah! the party was a lot of fun, i appreciate the invite.” woonhak pulled out a chair for you to sit down next to him. blushing, you take a seat.
“i realized about two seconds ago that i never really introduced these guys properly.” woonhak said.
you sigh with the relief that you wouldn’t have to ask. he pointed to each boy as they waved back at you.
“jaehyun, he’s kind of like the leader of our little friend group. sungho, his shoulders are crazy broad and he’s always planning ahead. leehan, the fish fetishizer. riwoo, the tame one. and taesan, every corner you turn he’s taking a photo.” he explains in one breath, taking a deep inhale afterwards.
“fish fetishizer? really?” leehan rolled his eyes, smirking at woonhak.
“i only speak the truth.”
“oh then you wouldn’t mind me telling y/n about how last night you called us scream–” jaehyun tried before getting cut off by a tater tot being chucked across the table.
“shut up jaehyun! i think that nose bleed went to your head.” woonhak mumbled nervously.
“my bad bro. y/n, don’t mind him he’s a little feisty in the morning.” jaehyun jokes before handing you a plate.
the rest of you talked casually as you ate the (somewhat burnt) food jaehyun prepared. one might think that being in a group with your boy crush and all of his best friends would be awkward, however it was anything but that. they were just as welcoming as woonhak was. having the right people to hang out with wouldn’t be as difficult to find as you initially thought
there was much laughter around the table, and lots of teasing towards woonhak. some things you learned were that they were all trying to start a band called boynextdoor. ironic, right? and that they all had their own distinguished hobbies. each boy extremely unique and likable, but woon was always your favorite.
once breakfast was finished up, you all went in woonhak’s room to hang out some more. he had a lot of basketball related things around, as well as actual basketballs. but what caught your attention enough was the large teddy bear in the corner. you immediately went towards it and wrapped the bears arms around you.
“so, what were you guys wanting to do?” taesan wondered out loud, scrolling on his phone.
“we could hit up the arcade that just opened up down the street! i heard they have really good food in there too.” jaehyun suggested eagerly.
“oh shit, do they have pizza?” riwoo perked up.
“that’s basically criminal if an arcade doesn’t have pizza, so they better.” woonhak claimed.
“i think it would be fun! i enjoy arcades.” you beamed at the idea, having not been to an arcade in awhile.
following your minor discussion, a gameplan was decided. you would all go home to get ready, then meet up in about half an hour to leave for the arcade. once it was settled, you left them to run back to your house.
it didn’t take very long for you to get ready. you hastily dug through your closet to find something nice to wear, holding up the different options to your body. you settled on something casual and comfortable to get you through the day.
a mixture of feelings stirred in your stomach as you walked down the stairs, and left back over to woonhak’s house. all of his friends were very kind and welcoming to you, it was a breath of fresh air. this made you smile to yourself before knocking on the door again.
woonhak gave you a familiar up and down look when he opened the door.
“hi! have we met before?” you joked, playing with the hem of your top.
“maybe we have, maybe we haven’t.” he played along, gesturing you to come inside. you ran up the stairs, quickly met with the boys you were with not too long ago. 
riwoo and leehan were doing god knows what, laughing like crazy people. you grinned at jaehyun’s confused expression before woonhak appeared behind you once again.
“y/n’s ready! let’s head out.” he grinned, putting two hands on your shoulders to shake you lightly. 
“is it far?” you turn your head to look at the boy, underestimating the proximity of your faces. he lets out a sudden exhale that brushes against your eyes, making you blink. the rest of the boys watched silently, holding back a laugh at the awkward moment.
“um– it isn’t that far, right guys?” he stammers.
“totally not far at all pshh”
“just a ten - fifteen minute walk yeah.”
the boys murmured over eachother as the two of you pulled away, your red face continued to deepen. everyone paraded out of the bedroom in an instant while you tread on the heels of woonhak. it’s not like you guys haven’t gotten super close before. all things considered, you kissed him on the cheek. so why was it different now?
you paid it no mind, instead trying to replace your thoughts with eagerness to spend the day playing games and eating yummy food. 
as soon as you got to the arcade, your vision was immediately swarmed with glow in the dark lights and the booming sound effects of video games. there were colorful stars lining up the carpet and a handful of kids running around, drunk on energy.
there was a chorus of ‘wow’s’ from the group, woonhak enthusiastically pointing at some of his favorite games while jaehyun was hopping around him. their bond was noticeable, puppy on puppy behavior if you had to compare it to something. 
tables and chairs were placed around a certain part of the scenery, where the smell of food wafting through the air became obvious that it was the food court. riwoo yelled over the noise to alert the rest, saying something about how good the food looked.
the loudness gave you the slightest bit of a headache, but you tried to ignore the discomfort in a futile attempt.
“you okay?” woonhak asked, getting eerily close to make sure you hear him.
“yeah! my head just hurts a little bit, this is definitely a lot louder than the party!” you shrug it off, not thinking much of it since you assumed it would pass.
“no worries! here, would this make it better?” he scavanged through his pocket before pulling out an airpods case. you examined him, puzzled at how they would help. 
woonhak pulled your face a little bit closer, pushing a pod into each of your ears, holding his hands over them for a second before letting you go. there was significant noise cancelling, making everything slightly quieter. 
“better?” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear that was caught in the ear bud.
“yes.. thank you.” you nodded timidly.
by the time you went to look around for the remainder of the group, they seemed to be all at their respective games. riwoo and sungho were head to head in a game of mario cart, using their whole bodies to turn the steering wheel.
“guess it’s just us then? what do you want to play?”
“we can do whatever you want to do! weren’t you looking at the basketball game?” you try to think back to what he was pointing at, but his face lights up telling you your answer.
“if you want to see me absolutely dominate then i’d love to take you over to basketball.” he brags, wiping imaginary dust off his shoulders.
“let’s see if you can live up to that then, yeah?”
“you’re on.” he holds his hand out for you to grab, and you take it with confidence. you giggle as he drags you over to the basketball game, excited to show you his talents.
“watch the pro handle it! if i beat the highscore you owe me a favor coupon.” woonhak smirks, swiping the card against the reader and handing it to you before the timer begins.
“and if you don’t, i get one! so you better win before i make you do something stupid like kiss jaehyun.” you light - heartedly threaten, amused at the shivers woonhak visibly gets.
the bright red numbers count down to zero, initiating the game to start. woon swiftly grabs each basketball and chucks it into the basket. most of them make it with nothing but net, making you doubtful of the little bet you guys enforced.
the counter continued to rise as you watched in horror, as he was unexpectedly really good the game. fortunate to him, he got one last point that secured his high score. tickets poured out of the machine while he cockily looked back at your wide eyes.
“oh my goodness i won!” he smiled, ripping the tickets from the feeder. 
“okay maybe i underestimated you a little bit, that was actually really impressive.” you complimented, clapping lightly.
“i impressed you?” he blushed, biting back a huge smile.
“don’t make me take it back woonhak!” you said, making him laugh at your response. he pushed the pile of tickets in his hands into a complimentary bag they gave upon purchasing your credits.
“let’s see what game you’re good at now! your turn to pick the game.” discussed with you, slinging the bag back over his shoulder.
“can we try stacker so you can watch me beat the high score as well?” you declared.
“hey, for the record we don’t get a bet for this one! i already beat you fair and square and my favor coupon is looking real nice in my head.” 
“then– if i win you have to win me something from the claw machine!”
“pft, i’d do that for you anyways, y/n.” he poked your cheek before walking away from you to the stacker game. where’d all this random courage from him come from?
once you got to the machine, you were focused enough to happily say that you were able to keep your word as you quickly beat the game. a few passerbys gaped at you surprised. arcades weren’t normally something you went to all the time, but when you did, you had a history with the stacker machine.
blue blocks moving side to side became written in your brain cells while you put on a spectacular performance. a large ‘jackpot’ sign flashing on the screen.
“guess i’ll be walking out with a stuffed toy, right?” you hold your hands behind your back, looking up at woonhak cheekily.
“guess you will.” he exaggerated a sigh, trying not to dwell on how cute you looked right now.
“there’s one just around the corner that i saw when we were coming to this one. it had a lot of cute plushes, can we try that one?”
“you have too much faith in me.” he complained, walking with you to the crane of your dreams.
pastel sanrio plushies littered the floor of the bottom, with a large claw towering over it. your eyes sparkled as you stared at the one you wanted, immediately jumpy.
“woon i think i might explode, this yellow cinnamoroll is so precious!” you awed, making your plushie obsession quite obvious.
“i’ll try to get it  for you using my magic skills.” he teases, pressing the card into the reader. music started playing and he wrapped his hand around the joystick, focusing carefully on the one you wanted.
the claw unfolded, grasping the edge of the stuffed animal before closing on nothing, leaving you empty handed for the time being.
“trust me i’ll get it the next time!”
approximately twenty - two more attempts later, woonhak finally got you the plushie. you were practically sleeping over the machine until you felt it shake, as something dropped down the bottom. he placed it in your arms while you got all of your energy back to smile ear to ear.
“oh my gosh after the eighth attempt i didn’t think it would happen!” you expressed your doubt.
“hey i told you i’d get it. a promise is a promise, right?” 
“thank you, woon! i really love it.” you hugged him, your cinnamaroll still in your hands behind his back. 
he was tall enough that his head rested comfortably against the top of your head. you would’ve stayed like this for longer if you didn’t hear the call of your names over the ambiance of the arcade. the two of you pulled away shyly, seeing jaehyun wave you both over.
“guys! we’re about to order food, taesan is looking for a booth for us.” jaehyun called out as you approached him.
“damn riwoo must be really hungry.” woonhak kid around.
“don’t mess with riwoo and his appetite, he’ll probably order two whole pizza’s.”
all of you joked while finding the other four boys seated at a booth. the server had just left, leaving room for all of you to squeeze into the leather seats. you sat in one of the corners with woonhak, sungho settled next to you. 
“you already ordered?” jaehyun asked.
“yeah we just got three pizzas and some chicken wings. that cool?” riwoo informed you guys since you had just gotten there. 
“pizza sounds great. i’ve been craving it ever since you mentioned it at the house.” you added.
“it’s not really busy over here so they said it should come out quick.” leehan mentioned.
there was busy conversation amongst you all while waiting for the food to come out. you heard the tales of how sungho apparently ‘destroyed riwoo’s sorry ass’ in mario cart while leehan was casually playing frogger by himself the entire time. 
and apparently, jaehyun wiped all his credits on the spin wheel games that he settled for watching taesan play fruit ninja for the past two hours. you happily bragged your stuffed animal that woonhak won you, ignoring the smirks and wiggling of eyebrows they all gave him.
as the grumbling of everyones stomachs got louder, all of the food came out just on time. sungho helped clear the table to make room before everyone immediately began digging in.
laughter was shared over the shit ton of food that riwoo ordered, as well as a small debate whether pineapple actually belonged on pizza or not (and you stood proudly on the pineapple side, because there’s nothing wrong with a little sweet on a banging savory dish). 
yet in between all of this, the food was gone as quickly as it came. a second round of wings as well as some dessert was ordered, but you just leaned back completely full. seeing riwoo and leehan absolutely obliterate the menu was funny to watch, but nothing you’d be able to do yourself. 
“what do you mean you’re not as good at fruit ninja as i am?! i beat the high score like twice!” taesaen argued with jaehyun.
“okay bro, but i’m just saying if you had let me get behind the screen i would’ve devoured you!” jaehyun scoffed playfully.
you watched their argument, barely noticing the yawn that left your lips.
“are you tired already?” woonhak looked at your half - lidded eyes.
“a little bit. standing there watching you fail miserably at the claw machine tuckered me out.” 
“um– here.” he pat his lap gently, “you can lay down– only if you want to i know you’re tired and i think we’ll be sitting here for awhile so–” you cut him off by letting your head fall against his lap, the rest of the boys too caught up in conversation to notice.
“thank you woon.” you spoke sleepily, staring at him through your eyelashes.
“of course..” his words wobbled, feeling tense at the closeness.
and while normally you’d be freaking out, you were too exhausted to care. you found amenity with the slight touch of the skin below his shorts against your head. it made you feel close to him, immediately being lulled to sleep.
the boy above you could only stare at your sleepy expression, making you look more perfect than you already were. he let his hand cup the side of your face to prevent you from slipping off, slightly intertwined with your hair.
you lay like this for a bit, clutching the soft yellow fur of your plushie to your chest. woonhak thought that you made something so mundane like sleeping look so beautiful. you cuddled your cheek into his hand unknowingly. making him grin.
nobody around the two of you noticed how long you’d been asleep for until sungho’s hand brushed against your shoe that was closely curled up against the rest of your body. in an attempt to apologize he realized you weren’t awake, and woonhak was too caught up staring at you.
“you look kind of creepy staring at her woonhak.” sungho’s words snap woonhak out of his intense gaze.
“what? i wasn’t i was just zoning out a little.” woonhak rubbed the back of his neck with his free hand.
“oh my god you were totally staring at her! you like her, right?” jaehyun shouted, making woon quickly cover your ears in the case you woke up and heard.
“dude!”
“you’re like leehan when he’s staring at his fish, so i’d be crazy to think you didn’t like her.” taesan chimes in from across the table.
“how did she fall asleep anyways? i’s really loud in here.” riwoo mumbles with a full mouth.
“she was just tired. it’s starting to get late so we should dip soon.” woonhak suggested.
there was a simultaneous agreement around the table, so everyone began to clean up and pay while you still slept soundly. 
“are you gonna wake her up?” leehan asked woonhak as everyone else started to get out of the booth.
“ah– i don’t want to bother her.” he thought to himself for a moment, before getting an idea. “actually leehan can you help me get her on my back? i’ll just carry her back home it’s not that far away anyways.”
leehan nodded with approval, helping get you on woonhak’s back. woon moved your arms around his neck and held you by the scruff of your knees. once you were properly settled, he followed the rest of his friends out of the loud interior of the arcade.
“woonhak!!” jaehyun whined, “you’re so cute why don’t you carry me around like that.”
“sleep with one eye open, jae.”
you felt your body bouncing up and down slightly with every step woonhak took. the boys conversed while walking down the sidewalk, as it became more audible the more awake you became. as your eyes stirred open, you felt fluffy hair tickling the side of your face. which now you reallize was woonhak’s.
the crook of his neck was warm from you resting your head there, and the breeze was light in the air. you squeezed your hands tighter around him, letting out a quiet hum.
“you awake?” woonhak whispered as you let out a muffled ‘mhm’ into his shoulder.
“was i asleep for long..?” your voice was a bit cracky from just waking up.
“probably for like an hour? we left ten minutes ago, i’m surprised you didn’t wake up while i tried getting you on my back.” he explained to you.
“oh my– i’m sorry woon you should’ve woke me up!” you became more awake now, feeling embarrassed.
“y/n it’s fine! i really don’t mind at all. we’re super close to the house so just hold on for now, yeah?”
“hh okay…”
you let woonhak carry you back to your shared street, holding yourself close to him in order not to fall. he felt the rise an fall of your chest against his back, making him aware that he wouldn’t of done this for anyone but you (maybe jaehyun if he begged hard enough).
and when the houses grew near, you found yourself disappointed of another night coming to an end. you didn’t want to leave him, hoping that these nights could last forever and ever. 
pulling up to the familiar grass spot in between your houses, he gently lowered you back on the floor. though he made sure to hold you in case you stumbled. 
“this feels familiar. almost like we did it last night too.” you pointed out.
“let’s hope it doesn’t feel repetitive for the rest of the summer.” 
“right.. thank you again for tonight woonhak, it was nice to properly meet all of your friends and whatnot.” 
“what can i say? you’re apart of the group now.” he answered, putting his cold hands in the pockets of his varsity jacket.
“i’m glad to of been welcomed so quickly, i really like hanging out together.” you mentioned. 
“then i’ll see you tomorrow with something new to do, y/n.” 
woonhak watched as you walked back into your house once again, a sight that he hoped he would get used to for the rest of the summer. or preferably, the rest of forever.
everyday beyond this point you hung out with woonhak and his friends. they welcomed you into their daily activities and random nonsense, making you feel optimistic for the future. and over time, you became a lot more comfortable around all of them.
you bonded with the boys a lot, and some of the times they would side with you over woonhak to see him get mad. shooting him with waterguns when the sun was barely rising over your homes, pulling harmless pranks like zip - tying the spokes of his bike to the chain stay. just a lot of stupid things that helped you grow closer to the group.
playful teasing always ensued between you and jaehyun, meaningless arguments over who woonhak loves more. and despite all fun and games, it has always been you. ever since you moved next door it has never stopped being you.
maybe love was stupid, how quickly it can change people. however the feelings he had for you didn’t change him, rather make him a better version of himself. 
not only did the relationship between you and the other boys grow, there was something about you and him that would always be special. woonhak was extremely driven by physical contact, it was evident with him and jae. 
so even in the least romantic situations like hugging tightly against his back to shield yourself from water balloons, it made both of your hearts flutter.
one month into summer and you wouldn’t trade it for the world. you woke up on a slightly hotter morning, sweating from your room feeling like an oven. on your nightstand, your phone was already blowing up from texts from the groupchat and a couple messages from jaehyun saying he’s leaving the group chat forever (but he usually came back in the span of ten minutes after taesan re - invited him).
you opened your window to get some fresh air, adjusting your curtains so they’d stay tied to the side of the frame. across the way, woonhak was doing something on his computer that you couldn’t bother to pay any attention to.
 quickly going to your nightstand to unplug your phone, you shot him a text message.
‘come to the window woonie poopy!’
back at the window frame, you leaned on it with your elbow while waiting for woon’s phone to light up and him to come give you attention. he gave a quick glance to his phone, seeing your name pop up and immediately smiling.
he pulled off his headset and lifted his window open to greet you, “good morning sleepy head.”
“pleasure to see you too, woonhak. do we have any plans for today?” you ran a hand through your messy hair, trying to flatten it a little bit.
“nah not as a group. leehan is busy cleaning up his fish tank today, that’s how you know it’s getting real. sungho and jaehyun are playing video games together right now, i see them both online. for the rest i have zero clue.” he explains everyones plans.
“damn i have nothing to do today then.”
“actually i was thinking we could hang out in a bit. maybe just me and you..?”  he offered. 
“that sounds really nice woon. figure out a plan and i’ll go over to you!” you exclaimed, rushing to go get ready. 
when you got to the bathroom, you quickly did your morning routine, not to keep woonhak waiting. the slightest bit of toothpaste dribbled down the side of your mouth while you fought with the jammed cabinet, trying to get out your deodorant. 
once you were finished with everything, you applied little bits of makeup and put on your jewelry that would match with the outfit. you ended up settling with a cute tank top and some of woon’s little boy shorts you stole last time you were at his house.
the fit was complete and you were out the door. the sun felt warm against your skin, swiftly disappearing once you were under the awning of his porch. you left three gentle knocks before you heard someone coming down the stairs to open the door.
“jeez you got ready quick, you ready to go?” he joked.
“wait where are we going anyways, do i need a jacket?” you looked at the light jacket woonhak was wearing over his t - shirt.
“i don’t think so, this is just for the aesthetics. we’re going to the mall, i’ll buy you breakfast there?” he tells you.
“ouh breakfast! can we go to that one spot next to the pasta place in the food court? they have really yummy breakfast burritos.” your stomach grumbled at the thought, he nodded with a laugh. 
woonhak pulled his bike from the garage while you happily sat yourself on the back, holding tightly to his waist like the first time you guys met.
“i think you should invest in a bike soon since we use them so much.” woonhak mentioned while starting off in the direction of the mall.
“are you trying to get me off your back? literally.” you giggled at your own joke.
“i’d never get rid of you i’m just saying!” he tried defending himself.
“whatever whatever, maybe for christmas?”
the ride to the mall was slightly longer than your usual bike ride, but you and woonhak talked so much that it barely felt like five minutes. he had that effect on you, making time pass like crazy. he parked at a nearby bike rack and locked up before coming back to you.
like all shopping centers, it was filled with the rustle and bustle of people carrying multiple bags on their arms. you ran ahead of him towards the food court, craving absolutely anything. 
“woon it’s right here!” you pointed at the sign, waiting for him to catch up.
“just a breakfast burrito right? i might get a pancake combo plate, i’m kind of hungry too.”
“yup! i heard the pancakes are really good here, promise to share a bite with me?” you plead.
“i guess i could give you a little.” he pretends to be annoyed while you’re just beaming with joy.
at the counter he orders while you search for a table nearby, most of them are occupied even though it’s pretty early in the morning. luckily your eyes land on an empty one,  so you seat yourself to wait for him.
woonhak comes back with a tray that holds both of your meals, and you melt at the smell of it growing closer. he places your food in front of you before sitting on the chair.
“thank you woon!” you unwrap the foil from your burrito in awe.
“don’t mention it. here, you can have the first bite.” he cuts into the pancake with his fork, getting a little bit of the whip cream, “say ahh.”
you opened your mouth slightly as he drew the fork to your lips, biting down on the soft batter. as soon as you tasted it your eyes immediately lit up.
“oh my gosh we might have to trade.. this is the best thing i’ve ever tasted.” you practically melt in your seat.
“no way! i didn’t even get to try it yet!”
“okay fine fine, this burrito is just as good.” you pout.
“wait y/n– you have something on your face hold on.” he takes the tip of his finger to wipe a bit of whip cream from the corner of your mouth suddenly, “all better.”
“ahm– thank you…” you thank him sheepishly, darting your eyes away from his.
“it was nothing, let’s eat?”
the two of you began to casually eat your meals, making more talk in between bites. he kept telling you how good the pancake was to tease you, and you might’ve gotten a few more pieces from him after the slightest bit of begging. how could he say no to you?
when you were all done and your stomach’s felt full, you both ventured off into many different stores and browsed through a variety of items.
woonhak spent a decent thirty minutes trying on hats and sunglasses, while you accepted or denied them like you were on tinder. you took many photos of him for memories, laughing together at the stupid point fives you got.
there were also a couple cute outfits you scanned through, woon insisting that he grab something to match because it would be cool. wasn’t that something that couples normally did? you didn’t care much as you two did look really nice side by side.
“that dress looks good on you.” he blushed as you twirled around in front of a mirror.
“you really think so? i don’t know if blue is my color.”
“well for the record it’s one of my favorite colors and you definitely do it justice.”
store after store you ended up with more bags, exhausted from the weight of it all. but as long as you were with him you could learn to ignore all of it.
but there was something that made him uneasy the closer the end of your hangout became, and you couldn’t really figure out why. he fidgeted with his fingers, fixated on you.
“woon there’s a photo booth over there! we should go check it out before we leave yeah?” you tug his arm towards the white machine with a curtain. his heartbeat quickens.
placing your bags outside of it, you move the curtain and climb inside, immediately seeing you and woonhak’s face show up on the screen.
“hmm two strips for five dollars, i think i have a five dollar bill in my wallet actually hold on!” you rummage through your wallet.
“ah– it’s just five dollars i can pay for it, don’t worry.”
“but it was my idea, plus you paid for my breakfast this morning i swear it’s fine.” you furrow your eyebrows, holding the corner of the bill in your hand.
“oops i already put it in.” he slid the money into the slot before a timer popped up, it was too quick to complain so you just set your wallet to the side.
the first photo, you and woon did peace signs, making silly faces towards the camera. the next one after that the distance between the two of you became slightly closer to get the pose right, your thigh touching his.
you intermingled your arms, squeezing eachothers faces cutely to make fish faces. the action makes both of you laugh.
“leehan would like that one.” you emphasized the after shot on the screen before the timer moved back.
“if you show him a photo of me as a fish he might fall in love with me, i don’t know though.” he insisted, making you shove him playfully.
“just hurry up and pose for this next one.”
woonhak smiled big for the camera, leaning his head to touch yours. you smiled as well, feeling a wave of euphoria rush over you after seeing both of you grin so big next to eachother.
in the short moment you pondered what to do next; a hand heart, finger guns? woonhak tapped your leg to get your attention, making your head turn to look at him, faces adjacent.
“uh– can i tell you something, y/n? and you promise you won’t get mad?” he stuttered, his hands gripping onto the hem of his jacket sleeves. “mad? why would i get–” fingertips found their way to the sides of your face, holding you gently, palm barely ghosting over your cheeks. woonhak leaned in to kiss you, lips finding yours perfectly. you both closed your eyes, embracing the sense of familiarity that you felt against him. 3… 2… 1… snap!
the kiss lasted no more than those long three seconds, but the spark in between felt so real. when he pulled away, you heard the sound of your film dispensing outside of the machine. you looked at him with a flushed face, mouth slightly agape.
“i really like you, y/n. and spending time with you this summer has just proved that so much more for me. am i stupid to think that you might like me too?” he confesses, hands still cradling your face.
“woonhak.. no you’re not stupid at all i– i really like you too.” you smile, feeling the pressure of your crush get a little lighter.
“you don’t know how glad i feel to hear you say that holy shit.” he kisses you again and again.
“i almost would’ve told you myself if things didn’t speed up.” you giggled at the feeling of his lips on your cheek. "does this mean i can use my favor coupon to get you to be my girlfriend?"
"of course i'll be your girlfriend, woonhak, it's no favor."
“oh my gosh.. we need to tell the boys they’ll freak out!” he realizes.
“jae will probably cry out of jealousy.”
“yeah no he’ll definitely start crying.” he laughs, trailing his hand down to yours to lace your fingers together. 
woonhak pulled you out of the booth while you picked up your things. he immediately came back to your side with two strips in his hand
the photos held a memory the two of you would never forget. three photos above showing a fond relationship between friends, and the last photo showing something a little more.
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THE DAY I MET YOU series
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saintrocklee · 2 years
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title: Need prompt: I’ll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you pairing: itachi x reader publish date: 09.08.22 non-massacre AU
“Why are you here?”
“To see you.”
dedication: to anon; who asked for this prompt like three decades ago. i love you dearly & i am so sorry. i hope the wait was worth it. warnings: none! just pure fluff & a sprinkle of angst. itachi is, in my bestie @chanfictions words, “an aloof house cat.” we love that for him.
The chill from the early morning’s air has the hair on your arms rising, but you don’t move. You’re waiting for the sun to fully come up, so you can climb back into your apartment window and sleep. Sleeping in the dark was difficult after missions; the weight of the things you’ve done seemed heavier at night.
There’s an irritating itch on your neck and you distantly think it might be some blood you missed, so maybe you’ll shower before you crawl into bed. Your latest mission plays back on a loop and you can barely hold in the cringe that comes with remembering what you did. Typically an assignment like that would require some form of comfort from your team afterwards. A quick lunch. A light training session. But they’re all out of the village and you don’t think you have the required energy to go and find anyone else to lean on.
Someone specific came to mind, but you quickly dismiss the thought. You hadn’t seen your old friend in weeks and you know clan duties on top of whatever the ANBU required of him left him out of the village for days at a time. You were busy as well, and you didn’t seek him out as much as you used to. There was a confusing swell of feelings in your chest regarding the man in question and you weren’t in the mood to try and sort them all out. So you let the divide between you two fester. Grow.
Maybe one day you’d process your feelings. Maybe you’d even speak to him about them. Not today though. Not for awhile.
You’re not sure if you’re being protective of yourself, or a coward. Probably both.
It’s crippling, the loneliness that seems to gut you in this moment. You’re not used to sitting still like this, to being stagnant. Just a rare moment, that you’re separated from your teammates and friends, with nothing pressing to attend to.
And your successful mission, replaying on a loop.
The blood, the pleas. This one will haunt you for awhile. Your brain is starting to buzz, to tune everything out, and you think you’ll get a moment of peace while the sun finishes rising.
You hear him before you sense him.
“I didn’t know you’d be back so early.”
The silk in his voice is deeper than you remembered. As always, it settles right under your lungs, and you can already feel the warmth start to spread through your chest. His arrival was completely silent, and you idly wonder how long he’d been standing behind you.
“Keeping tabs on me?” You ask dully, your eyes not once leaving the view in front of you. The sun was just about to peak above the surface and you didn’t want to miss it. You’d been waiting for awhile for it to come up.
Itachi settles himself down next to you and it takes more control than you thought for you to not immediately turn toward him. You’ve found that your last few encounters have been more heartbreaking for you than you’d anticipated, and the storm of feelings you’ve kept a lid on for years begins to swirl.
“Your mission was successful, I take it?” He evades your question easily, which typically meant that he had information he didn’t want you to know. That he was keeping something from you.
If you were less tired, you’d dig your heels in. Instead, you shrug.
It’s quiet between you two for a moment as the sun continues to rise, until Itachi breaks it with another question.
“What do you need?”
He asks it quietly, seriously, and it blooms butterflies in your chest. It’s a question that defines your friendship, a question that is only asked when the other is in visible need of help. You’ve lost count of how many times Itachi has saved you from yourself by asking. There’s a lump forming in your throat and it hits you, right then, how much you’ve missed him.
You wished it was strictly platonic.
“I can’t stop seeing them.” You whisper back, hating the way your voice cracks. You’re greeted with more silence before Itachi stands. The sun has now broken through the surface so you turn your head to finally look at him. He’s devastatingly beautiful as always, and the early morning hues only add to it. He doesn’t have his Sharigan activated, and his hair is tied back at the base of his neck like always. The soft look he’s giving you leaves you feeling a bit breathless, and you find yourself trying to memorize him in that moment.
He reaches a hand out to you and you take it, sliding your fingers along his palm before he tightens his hold and helps pull you up. You wait for him to drop your hand, but he continues to pull until you’re standing close; too close to be socially appropriate. His eyes flick to your neck, to the dried blood that’s no doubt spattered there, and they trail down slowly. You think he might be looking for more, all while his thumb starts to lightly rub the skin on top of your hand.
“You need a shower, and then we’ll have breakfast.” He states and you frown in response. Itachi, of course, notices immediately and his thumb stops it’s slow caress.
“You don’t need to stay.” Your words are still quiet, like your voice has forgotten how to be strong. Loud. The look you receive is borderline chastising.
“But I will.” He counters, and you feel your lips tug upward without your permission. He drops your hand and takes a step back, to give you room to climb down. You look at him for a moment and nod, feeling very grateful and not as lonely as you did before.
“Thank you.”
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A few days go by before he comes to you again. This time you’re inside your apartment, deep cleaning your horribly disgusting kitchen. You hardly used the damn thing, yet dust seemed adamant on collecting there, and your fridge was a disaster. You’re almost done when you hear your window opening and turn with a frown, only to be met with Itachi climbing into your living room. In his ANBU uniform. Covered in what you hope is dirt.
“Itachi?” You call out, moving from the small space of your kitchen. His feet meet your carpet and he stands, only to sway slightly which sets off warning bells in your head. You move to his side immediately and steady him with your arm around his waist. He leans into you, furthering deepening your panic, and you move him to your couch. Itachi sits down harder than normal, almost like he’s collapsing into it, and tilts his head back with a soft groan. There’s blood and dirt caked to him and his uniform like a second skin, and you crouch down in front of him.
“Are you hurt?” You ask hurriedly, looking for any signs of fresh blood to signify that he was actively bleeding. You’re answered with what sounds like a negative grunt and you frown, eyes flicking upward to look at his face. He’s still got his head resting against the back of your couch, eyes closed, leaving his neck completely exposed. It’s a rare sight indeed, to see Itachi Uchiha so open like this, and his voice is slow when he speaks again.
“I overexerted myself.”
Okay. That explained why he practically stumbled into your apartment. It didn’t explain anything else.
“And you’re here and not at the hospital because ... ?”
Itachi finally moves his head up, only to look down at you with a cocked eyebrow. Like it should be obvious. Like you were the one being ridiculous.
You’d strangle him if you thought you could move fast enough. But you’re still concerned, because if Itachi came to you then that meant something was wrong.
“What do you need?” You ask, your tone dipping into something more serious. The cocky brow relaxes itself and Itachi stares at you with a tired, almost numb look. He doesn’t answer, and if you’re being truthful he never really did when you asked. But you know what he needs. He needed to stay, to not be around his clan or doctors or the Hokage or anyone else.
He needed to be left alone.
You nod once you understand.
“Okay. I was just about to heat up some dinner, but if you’re going to be here you need to shower. You smell horrible.”
You stand and can’t help but smile when you’re greeted with an amused snort. Good. Normalcy. You move back to your kitchen, missing the way Itachi’s eyes follow you and the small, tired smile on his own face.
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It strikes you as odd, when you run into Itachi yet again only a couple days later. This time you find him, standing on top of your apartment building. You’d sensed him when you were walking home, and if there was one thing you knew about Itachi - he only let someone sense him when he wanted them to.
He’s giving you a choice you realize as you maneuver yourself to the roof. You could have easily gone into your apartment and ignored him, but that was silly.
You’d never do that.
His back is to you when you finally see him and you stop when you’re only a few feet away from him.
“Hey.” You call out, and he turns his head to glance at you. He raises that elegant brow expectantly and you shake your head as you continue to move forward, till you’re standing next to him.
“Hello.” He greets and you shoot him an amused look.
“Care to explain why you’re on my roof, Itachi?”
He glances around, brow furrowing, before turning his full body to face you.
“I didn’t realize you owned this building.”
His retort pulls a chuckle out of you and you watch as his mouth curls into a smirk.
“Funny. You should quit your day job, take your jokes on the road.”
Amusement sparkles in his eyes.
“Would you join me, if I did?”
You’re taken aback by his question and try not to show it on your face.
“Can’t. I’m too busy owning the building.”
Your comeback is lame and a bit breathless. Itachi hums, cocking his head ever so slightly as he considers you. You’re not sure what exactly he’s looking for or even looking at, and decide to try and question him again.
“Seriously though. Why are you here?”
“To see you.”
The bold bluntness of his statement sends you reeling. You blink dumbly and swallow at the way his face changes. Almost as if he’s relaxing. His eyes turn softer as they meet your own and the butterflies you kept carefully hidden were starting to escape and make a mess of your insides.
“We’ve seen each other a lot lately.” You murmur, hoping he answers the unspoken question. Why? Why did he want to see you? Why did he seem to be around more? Did something change?
But Itachi never did anything unless he wanted to, never answered a question he didn’t feel like answering, and his next smile shows teeth.
“Yes.” He agrees easily, much to your disappointment.
Your face falls into a deadpan and you shake your head in amusement as well as frustration.
“Come on in then, you can make yourself some tea. I’ve got laundry to fold, so don’t expect me to be very entertaining.”
Itachi hums and follows you down, that smirk still present on his face.
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You’re so tired you think you might collapse before you can open your door. The keys in your hand are fairly uncomplicated but your fingers aren’t cooperating and you watch as they slip out of your hands and fall to the ground. You’d just finished another mission and had to spend what felt like hours at the hospital. One of your teammates was exposed to a toxin and they needed to do blood tests on all of you, as well as scrub you clean, before you could leave. Your hair was still wet and the borrowed clothes you had on were too big, leaving you uncomfortable and cold.
And now your keys were on the floor.
You bend to pick them up when your door creaks open. You freeze and snap your head up, only to be greeted by Itachi standing in your doorway. Inside of your apartment. His hair is pulled back but he’s missing his forehead protector and is dressed in what you can only describe as civilian clothing. Your brain and body feel like they’re lagging as you stand slowly and the noise that comes out of your mouth is confused. Itachi arches a brow and moves to the side, allowing you entry, and you walk in before turning to watch him close and lock your door behind you.
“What are you ...” Your questions trails off into nothing as he carefully takes your keys and pack from you, setting them on your kitchen counter like he did this everyday. You blink, your brain still trying to catch up with everything, and Itachi speaks - his voice like sweet honey in your ears.
“You’re exhausted.”
It’s a question that wasn’t a question. You blink again.
“Long mission.” You reply distractedly as he moves toward you, hands coming to rest on your back and elbow.
“You were due back sooner.”
You frown in response. How did he know that?
“Got held up at the hospital. Why are you here?”
Itachi hums in that annoying way of his as he presses you towards your bedroom, his thumb beginning to slowly stroke the small of your back through your thin, borrowed shirt. He hadn’t bothered to turn any of your lamps on and the setting sun shining through your blinds is the only source of light throughout your small apartment.
“To see you.”
You’d roll your eyes if you were positive they’d stay in your head.
“Did you break in?”
There’s a snort from somewhere behind you.
“You’d need adequate locks to define entering your home as breaking in.”
You snort tiredly and feel your shoulders sag when your bed comes into view. Yes, yes, yes. Perfect.
“Still.” You mutter, kicking off the sandals you loaned from the hospital into the corner. Itachi lets go of your elbow but keeps his hand on your back, thumb still stroking you through your shirt. It felt nice and grounded you enough to press him again for some kind of answer.
“Why are you here to see me?”
His movements stop and you turn your head to look at him. His gaze is focused on your bed, his head turning towards you before his eyes do. The hand on your back moves to the side of your face, and you freeze as he curls a finger through your damp hair. It sends a jolt of electricity through you, offering you clarity where you previously had non.
Itachi was in your apartment. Itachi had been waiting for you. Itachi had, once again, sought you out. You bring your own hand up to rest on his forearm.
“What do you need?”
His shoulders settle at your question, as if he’s been waiting for you to ask. His hand leaves your hair to hang limply at his side, causing your own hand to drop.
“To stay.”
You inhale slowly at his words, their meaning settling heavy on you. Your hand twitches forward, brushing his own, and you find yourself searching his eyes. They’re so dark, bottomless, and tired. You nod slowly, realizing that his request is something you both need.
“Okay.”
Your voice cracks and you swallow, taking a step back toward your bed. He follows, as if on autopilot, and soon you’re both under the comforter facing each other. It’s not as awkward as you thought it would be, and the annoying flutter of wings in your tummy is beating a ferocious rhythm inside of you. You’re physically tired, but your brain has woken itself up since arriving back home, and you consider the man in front of you carefully.
“What’s going on?” You question softly and Itachi regards you with a serious look. The darker oranges and reds coming from your window bathe him in a soft light and you can pick out each individual hair on his head, each individual lash above his eyes. He’s truly beautiful, handsome in a heartbreaking sort of way, and you almost miss his response.
“I had a dream you died.”
It takes you a full second to register what he said, and your mouth parts in surprise.
“When?”
“Several weeks ago.” He pauses, eyes unfocusing like he was remembering. “It was ... unpleasant.”
You frown and move your hand to cup his face. He lets you, even closes his eyes at the contact, and your chest swells.
“I’m sorry.” You offer quietly, brushing your thumb over his cheekbone. This dream obviously disturbed him deeply, and you wonder if that’s the reason for all the sudden visits. He hums and you’re distantly reminded of a cat purring while being pet. It makes you smile.
“It’s my apology you should be accepting. I’ve been a coward.”
Your thumb halts it’s movement and your smile fades.
“A coward?” You echo, confusion evident. Itachi opens his eyes, holding your gaze with a serious look.
“I purposefully distanced myself from you.”
The warmth in your chest halts and you feel what feels like ice start to prickle at your fingers. You had just thought he was busy, that you were both just busy, and to know he did it on purpose ...
“Why?”
You want to keep the hurt from showing but you can’t hide the way your voice wavers. Itachi doesn’t move, doesn’t turn his gaze away, and his tone turns to honey, to silk wrapped in velvet.
“Because of my feelings for you.”
Oh.
You open your mouth to ... respond? Gasp? Laugh? Yell? To do anything but freeze, which was what you were currently doing. Your brain had turned into mush, your body was collapsing in on itself, and your heart and lungs were somehow tightening but also moving at an impossible place.
Because of my feelings for you.
Itachi seems minutely amused by your reaction and turns his head to brush his lips against your fingers.
“I have dreamt of you often, these past few months. It was foolish to avoid you, to try and create distance where none was needed. It took seeing you broken and dying to realize my mistake. My hope is that you will forgive me, with time. I have tried to make it up to you, to ease back into the friendship we once had, but I find myself wanting more.”
You’re pretty sure you’ve stopped breathing. He turns his head to meet your gaze again.
“It’s becoming increasingly difficult, to be away from you.”
Okay, yes. You’ve definitely stopped breathing.
Itachi pauses, to give you time to absorb his words, before speaking again.
“If I am being too forward, you may tell me.”
You blink.
“It’s not ...” You start, frowning at the way you’ve just decided to lose all ability to think. Or talk. You pull your hand away to rest on the bed in between you and start again, fingers digging into your sheets.
“I’m ... processing.” You answer, lowering your gaze. You can’t keep looking at him if you want to be able to formulate actual words. He says nothing in response, giving you time to think, and you eventually speak again.
“I think I’ve loved you for a very long time.” You start, still unable to look at him. You feel him stiffen next to you and find yourself taking a deep breath before continuing.
“I understand, though. I’ve been avoiding you too, I think. Caring for someone in our line of work can be damning. It can end horribly, or never even begin. I think we were both cowards, in a way. I also think you’re a bit of an ass, but that’s more of a fact than an opinion.” A breathy chuckle interrupts you and you smile softly, eyes floating upwards to meet his again.
“I think that you can stay … however long you’d like.”
Itachi’s eyes flick down to your mouth and stay there as he responds.
“I’d like that.”
You smile and try to fight against the heavy weight currently making itself at home on your eyelids. Sleep was calling your name urgently and you fight back a yawn. There’s another breathy chuckle in your ear and it takes you a moment to realize Itachi had moved closer, even going so far as to loosely wrap an arm around your waist. His fingers are trailing soft patterns against your back and you press yourself into his chest, deciding that anything else can wait until tomorrow.
“Sleep.” You murmur into his collarbone with a smile, “I’ll fight the bad dreams off if they come to get you.”
Itachi hums a tired laugh and you feel something soft brush against your forehead as you drift off into an easy sleep.
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mattybraps10 · 3 months
Text
I Can See You | Brendan Brisson x Hughes!OC
Summary: Brendan and Phoebe fight over their past and Matty comforts her.
Word Count: 1042
By: M
Parts: part one | part two | part three | part five
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PART FOUR:
“What’s up with him?” Luke said, having witnessed the tail end of Brendan’s episode. 
“Don’t bother with him,” Phoebe snarked, pulling her hair out of the way, “he’s always like this.”
“He’s really not.” Matty said, backing up one of his oldest friends.
“Yeah, I’ve never seen him like that.” Jack said, returning from the living room.
“I don’t know guys, he's weirdly possessive with me, always has been.” She shrugged, taking a sip of her tea.
“Why didn’t you say anything?” Jack asked, concerned.
“I just thought he was like that, I never really thought anything was off.” 
“You deserve better.” Matty said, shaking his head and walking towards the door Brendan had previously slammed. 
“You really don’t have to say anything Mats, I’ll deal. I always have.” She shrugged, placing her now empty mug into the sink.
“Mats?” Matty said, slowly opening the door.
“Oh. Sorry I mean um Matty.” 
“I like Mats.” He said, walking into Phoebe’s room.
Phoebe’s room was exactly how Matty pictured it even from their brief interactions. He scanned the room taking in the beautiful murals and the clothes strewn everywhere. His eyes found Brendan standing in front of a beautiful sunflower drawn upon the wall. He slowly approached his friend and laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.
“Go away Matty. Shouldn’t you be with your new girlfriend or something.” Brendan yelled, dropping his hand from the wall as he turned to face Matty.
“Dude, I just met her. What the fuck is up with you? She’s just a girl and she’s allowed to talk to other people.” 
Matty was shocked. In all their years of friendship, Brendan had never once raised his voice at him, let alone insult him. 
“She’s not just a girl. She’s brilliant and beautiful and the sun pales in comparison to her smile. Music sounds like nothing compared to her laugh.” Brendan shouted, causing Matty to back up.
“Look I don’t disagree, but the girl I saw out there was hurt by your actions Brendan.” Matty sneered, “she deserves so much better than your jealousy.”
Matty left the room after that leaving Brendan to wallow in thoughts about how he hurt you, even unintentionally. He hadn’t meant to snap, he really hadn’t, it was just too much hearing her flirting with another guy. Matty’s words replayed in his head as he laid back on the couch. 
“She deserves so much better than your jealousy.”
Brendan couldn’t say anything to that, he’d been frozen since that moment. Unsure what to do, he found himself reflecting on their relationship. He reflected on every night he’d promised to meet but canceled at the last minute, the way he’d chosen school over her well-being, the way he’d left her when she needed him most. Matty was right. He didn’t deserve her. He never had. Every call he’d left unanswered filtered back through his mind. 
Why hadn’t he put effort in when he’d had her?
He was angry. Angry with his past self for neglecting the best part of his life. Angry at himself now for only recently realizing all he’d lost. Angry at Matty for calling him out. Angry at Phoebe for putting up with him for so long. 
She should’ve left him after the first time he’d stood her up, but she’d stayed. She’d stayed when he’d yell at her for faults that weren’t hers. She stood by him when he’d been accepted to Michigan and drafted into the NHL. She’d held him while he’d cried over his childhood dog. She was so much better than him. She deserved a man like Matty with his life together. A stable job in the NHL, the Calder trophy winner. Not some guy who’d left Michigan at the same time, never having made the leap to the NHL, stuck in a perpetual loop of poorly played AHL hockey.
Brendan was pulled from the never-ending cycle when he heard the door open. Phoebe walked in, making her way over to where Brendan was laying.
“Look Pheebs, I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. You deserve so much more than me.” He rushed out, sitting up to face her.
“I- You’ve never apologized to me for anything. What did Matty even say?” 
“I know, and I should’ve apologized back when we were together. I never should’ve stood you up, I never should have left.” He said, his shoulders sagging as he went to put his head in his hands.
“You shouldn’t have. You left me, alone. Luke was away that year, Brendan. I had no one.” Phoebe said, tears welling in her eyes.
“I know. Just… Long distance never works and I- I couldn’t lose you. Not that way.” 
“Brendan. You did lose me. You lost me even before breaking up with me. I didn’t know it then but life without you has opened my eyes to how you treated me. I deserved better. Hell, I deserve better now. You don’t get to waltz in here 3 years later and say it’s all fine or act like you have me. Brendan I don’t think you ever truly had me.”
“I- I’m sorry Phoebe. I really am.” Brendan whispered as tears fell from his eyes.
“You should be.” Phoebe said, standing up and walking back to the kitchen, wiping her eyes along the way.
When she entered the kitchen, Matty immediately stood up and wrapped her into a hug. Phoebe collapsed into his arms, letting the tears she’d held fall.
“Phoebe, I’m here. I’m here.” Matty said, holding her tightly and rubbing her back.
He led her to his room, sitting with her on the bed, waiting until she was ready to talk. He held her, letting her cry and whispering comfort for around ten minutes until she was calm enough to speak.
“Look, Phoebe. I don’t know what happened between you and Brendan. I don’t want to overstep, but you deserve so so so much better.” He said when he felt her pull away.
“I know. I mean I know now. I thought he was perfect for so long Mats. I thought… I don’t know what I thought would happen between us. I just… I-” She said, smiling sadly as she lost herself in thought.
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drunkewok · 7 months
Text
Tiger Inside
Chapter Twelve
Stray Kids Mafia (ongoing)
Masterlist
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Likes, reblogs and feedback always greatly appreciated
WC: 2.5k
Pairing: Lee Know x reader
Genre: Series, Enemies to lovers, non-idol AU, Mafia AU
Synopsis: After years spent away from the family, two strangers start frequenting your place of work, only to bring daunting news. Flung back into the world of the mafia, you try to adapt to your new normal and work alongside a team of eight skilled members to uncover a mystery and take down an unknown enemy.
Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, drinking, swearing, violence, weapons
Disclaimer: Any portrayal of Stray Kids or any other idols in this story is purely fiction and does not at all reflect their own personalities or how I view them as a person, it is purely for the sake of the story.
Please do not copy or repost my work
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My back rested against the cool, padded floor of the gym, eyes pressed shut and arms splayed as I attempted to steady my breathing. I had awoken early despite my late night out, the ability to fall back asleep failing me. Everything felt tense from the night prior. The adrenaline that had pumped its way through my veins feeling as though it would never escape, holding my muscles and brain hostage. 
How stupid I had been to let my guard down for a single night, the charm of an unknown stranger getting the best of me. My mind continued to replay my moments at the table with him, attempting to recount when he had the ability to discreetly slip something into my drink without my knowledge. I had always been so vigilant of my drinks before, why now, when it is of the utmost importance did I let that skill fade?
In a frustrated huff, I sat up and pulled my headphones back over my ears, standing and facing the punching bag once more. My wrapped hands balled into fists before making contact with the material, a sharp puff of air leaving my lips with each blow. I let myself get carried away in the motions, brain in a fog as I continued my shots, Changbin’s training on stature and form replaying on a mental loop through my ears.  
Minho. His rash decision to pull the drink from my hand, his stare down with Seonghwa as he drank it himself, his slow descent into unconsciousness all leading up to his arms slung over Seongho and my shoulders.
“You” Punch. “Stupid.” Punch. “Idiot.” My final punch grew in force, sending the punching bag swinging as I settled my fists on my hips, the sound of my breathing from my heaving chest muffled over the sound of my music. I swung around in shock as my headphones are slowly pulled from my ears, a smirking Minho now standing with them in hand with an arched brow.
“What was that?” His cocky grin plastered his face, a clear look of amusement. I scoffed as I pulled the headphones from his grasp, turning and walking away to grab my water bottle off the bench. Minho’s steps followed me, taking a seat on the bench and leaning back against the wall, eyes following me as I took a drink from the bottle. “What are you doing up so early?”
“Couldn’t I ask you the same thing? Shouldn’t you be resting after your little act last night?” I avoided his gaze as I screwed the lid back on, ignoring his presence as I turned to continue my assault on the punching bag. 
“I’m a little groggy, but I’ll be fine. Wasn’t my first run in with it.” Minho gave a soft shrug, brushing off the blunt statement.
“Was that supposed to make me feel better?” My words are choppy through my punches, my sharp breaths giving me an aspirated tone. I could feel his eyes burning holes into my skin as I distracted myself from his direction, landing one last punch before speaking again. “Not really something to brag about.” I flicked the stray strands of hair from my face as I tilted my head back with a deep breath, staring up to the ceiling. “Doesn’t make it any less stupid." I lowered my head to finally look at him, my face contorted in confusion. “Also, are we just gonna breeze by the fact that you just said it wasn’t your first time? Because that’s a little worrisome” 
Minho slowly rose from his seat, his stride over to me slow as he rounded behind me, my shoulders immediately tensing as two hands settled on them, his head leaning forward beside my own. Minho’s voice was barely a whisper, sending the same familiar chills down my spine from last night.
“Says the serial run-away.” My face scrunched as I attempted to shake him off of me, pulling myself away to the other side of the bag and continuing my practice. My intentions were to come down here to be by myself, take some anger out on a punching bag for breakfast in lieu of a cup of coffee, but in classic Minho fashion, that wasn’t going to be an option for my choosing.
“What is it you want Minho? I'm busy.“ I tried to ignore his presence, hoping he would eventually just slither away and allow me to practice without his distraction.
Minho let out a breathy chuckle before turning and crossing over to the shelves of equipment against the wall, pulling two padded mitts from a bin and turning back to me. I halted my punches and held the bag in place as he finally gained the first form of eye contact from me, my hands settling at my side as he pulled the flat punching mitts onto his hands.
“What are you doing?” I raised my brow raised in confusion, watching as he adjusted the positioning of the padding, his voice blunt with his response.
“I’m helping.” Minho pulled the straps around his wrists, tightening their hold with his focus pointed away from me. 
“I don’t think you’re in any condition to do that right now.” My head tilted as I questioned his decision, unsure if he had the capability to hold himself strong with training.
“I beg to differ.” He glanced up at me through his lashes before closing the distance between us, holding his hands up toward me, the targets pointing directly at me. “Hit me.”
“What? No!” I’m immediately taken aback by even the thought of training with him at the moment, when not even eight hours ago this man was being hauled into the home unconscious, in need of tending to by Seungmin’s hand due to his own rash decisions. 
“I said, hit me.” His voice grew firm as he got into stance, feet gluing him to the ground as he commanded. My eyes flicked between him and the mitts, hesitation running through my body and doubt if this was actually a good idea. But his eyes held a fire I had yet to see, challenging me. 
I sighed as I rolled my head across my shoulders, placing myself before him and maintaining eye contact for a moment before my first punch. I held my fists up, giving him one last opportunity for his retreat. He wasn’t backing down, still holding strong, anticipating the first blow. Following another sigh, I placed a few punches to his hands, alternating between the two.
“Oh com’on, those are weak. Do better.” Minho challenged me as I glared him down, the heat from my rising anger in my chest now melting in with the heat from the workout.  I timed my punches carefully, sometimes pairing the alternating blows in quick succession. “You’re going to have to do a lot better if you want to impress me.” 
“Arrogant prick.” My mouth worked faster than my brain, muttering out the statement with heavy breaths before I even had a chance to realize I was speaking. I pulled back with a huff, steadying my heaving chest. 
“I’ve earned the right to be arrogant.” Minho pressed the glove into my sternum, eyes burning into mine as he neared closer. I held my shoulders taut, holding my ground as his attempt to intimidate me failed. “I know you have anger in there, now take it out on me.” His last words melted out almost in a growl, at this point I wasn’t sure if he was talking about my anger, or his own. My jaw clenched as I settled myself back into position, waiting for him to prep himself. 
My mind ran through everything that had led me up to this point, back to the very moment of watching my home burn to ashes beside my mother. That same fire now setting ablaze in my chest as I threw a punch into the mitt. Every doubt that had been replaying in my mind telling me I didn’t have the potential. The day my father pulled me into his office, informing me of the need for me to pack my things. There’s an apartment for you that we’ve set up in Gangnam. Not even being by my side as him and Jiho watched me crawl into the back of the car, driving off. You’ll be safer this way. Walking into the painfully quiet apartment, alone.
“Keep your chin down.” Minho’s barked command barely registered in my ears, the memories playing through my mind pulling too much focus beyond where I currently stood.
My time spent locked away in a dark apartment, a pathetic rendition of Rapunzel, the story twisted to one of a girl wallowing in fear. A fear I refused to let consume me any longer. I had built my world brick by brick after watching the previous crumble before me, and I’ll be damned if it happened again. 
Seonghwa’s stupid beautiful smirk, Yunho’s gaze through the rearview mirror. My careless acts could get me killed now. Reality needed to sink in, I needed to get my head screwed on straight and take my predicament seriously, to process the fact that this was quickly turning into a life or death situation.
“Tuck your elbows” 
I quite easily could conveniently miss the targeted hands in front of me. Maybe a swift punch to the face might do him some good. 
“Bite me.” I spit back, my gaze stayed pointed at his hands, trying to ignore his eyes digging into me as I continued. The strongest source of my frustrations. The very person standing before me. His cloud of doubt looming over me in everything that I do. His grip when he’s mad at me, his retorts, his cocky nature and that damn smirk that spreads across his face. Oh how I wish I could be the one to forcefully smack it off of him. The very person who is supposed to be bringing me to my strongest, belittling everything I do. Seeing himself as the power player of the house, the team, and over me. My blows began to increase in speed and power, his demeanor being the fuel needed to grant me strength.
“Bend your knees, I could knock you over if I sneezed.” His final words sent me over the edge, a particularly strong punch as I pulled my arm back and flew it into hand with force, sending him staggering backwards as I knocked him off balance. “There it is. Finally.” His proud chuckle only ignites my fire further, scoffing as I make my way to the bench, pulling the wraps from my hands, and trying to settle the anger now coursing through my veins. 
“We’re done here.” I grabbed my water bottle, trying to make a b-line for the door as Minho quickly stepped in front of me, raising a hand and stopping me in my tracks. I tried to shuffle around him, but he slips in tow with me, maintaining his wall between me and the door. “Minho, move.” He quietly rose a hand in the air, stopping me in my tracks. I sighed, eyes pointed at the door before slowly gliding to meet his in a glare. My fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling his hand out of my way and pushing past him. I could hear an exasperated sigh behind me as the door slam shut, as if he had any reason to be irritated at the moment.
The kitchen was softly lit by the growing sunrise, a single light in the corner contributing to the dim glow. Chan stood leaning against the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee and fully engrossed into the happenings on his phone as I came bounding into the kitchen, interrupting his peaceful morning. I flipped the faucet on as I ran my water bottle beneath it, letting the water pour in.
“Nice to see you up early and training.” My exhausted state was clear as I closed my eyes with a sigh, my sweat coated hair sticking to my skin. 
“I guess you could say that.” Flipping off the faucet, I stepped back and pulled myself onto the island counter, crossing my ankles and hunching over on my hands, staring out the garden window to the rising sun. I let myself calm as I felt the bubbles boiling in my blood starting to settle, attempting to leave any previous thought locked away in the basement and far away. But still Minho remained, his agitating voice creating permanent residence in the back of my head, poking me anytime I began to feel any sort of hold. 
“Going that well, huh?” Chan chuckled as he slipped his phone into his pockets, then bringing his mug to his lips with a smile. It was beginning to feel as though he was receiving enjoyment out of Minho and I’s spats, viewing it as some sort of sick entertainment. 
“I just don’t know what he wants from me. We aren’t going to make any progress like this.” I rested my face in my hand, attempting to no avail to rub the frustration out through my eyes. I was getting whiplash from any time spent in the same room as Minho, struggling to comprehend what game he was playing with me. 
“But you’re already making progress.” Chan set his mug beside him, crossing his arms as his amused state faded, morphing into one of more seriousness. 
“But I don’t feel like I am.” I could feel my shoulders slump, the defeat I was trying so hard to fight off finally catching back up with me. I couldn’t fathom the ability to flourish in my training when the one barking commands at me makes me feel less than.  
“You are though, Minho told me so. He said every time he works with you, he’s seeing improvement.” I scoffed with a roll of the eyes, my doubt strongly against his statement taking over. 
“I find that hard to believe, the guy still acts like just my existence is an inconvenience to him” The thought of the chances of Minho saying something positively about me felt slim, still being unsure if he even had the ability to do so.
“I can assure you, you’re doing better than you think you are. Now if you buckled down and started taking things seriously and stop making rash decisions, you’d be excelling.” There it is again, that disappointed dad card. I started to wonder if he pulls this on the members too, I can’t imagine it’s very easy to keep this group of guys in line with anything else. 
“HYUUUNG!” Almost on cue at the thought of the other members, a distant yell upstairs followed by a door swinging open and bounding footsteps above us catches the two of us by alarm. The frantic steps down the stairs carried both of our eyes to the hallway as Felix swung around the edge of the banister and ran down the hall into the kitchen. 
“Hyung…” He leaned forward onto the counter behind me, head hung as his heavy breathing caught up with him, seeming like the poor guy had just run an entire marathon in his panic. His gaze was brought up to Chan, eyes burning with urgency. "I found the warehouse.”
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oh sHIT I FORGOT TO POST THIS EARLIER i had an idea for an epilogue scene to an au I haven't written yet and I needed @jaynesilver to see it so I typed it as a warm up for once which i NEVER DO but because it's typed you all get to see it too!!
all you need to know if kylo is a beauty youtuber at abt jeffree star's peak fame levels and Hux is a guy with an engineering job who also streams stardew valley speedruns as a hobby and they're very in love at the end of the fic (that again I haven't written yet)
ANYWAY have 1.6K of beauty blogger au under the cut, I'm gonna keep it out of the main tag bc It's not for a current au and I don't wanna clog it up
Armitage doesn’t read Chat while he’s in the mines, with the small exception of checking to make sure he hasn’t missed a ladder. Most of his viewers are used to this. When the first good luck day of a run comes along, and he makes the loop for foregables around the map, when he skips several cutscenes using exploits and puts years of animation-canceling muscle memory into his keystrokes, Chat dies down, mostly talking amongst themselves. 
Commentary is easier; he can talk and click, talk and type, talk and debate using a cherry bomb on a group of copper ore to save himself a few seconds. 
“I’ll save it,” he tells Chat, shifting in his chair. “If I can use it on iron later, it’ll save even more time.”
This run is going well, so far. It’s his third reset of the stream, but Armitage already has all the copper he’ll need for basic sprinklers and he’s almost through the dark levels. Huffing under his breath, Armitage imagines explaining any of this to his coworkers, can already see the glazed-over look in their eyes. He’s familiar with how they stop paying attention when Armitage talks about his hobby. Gaming, they can understand. Replaying the same niche farming simulator over and over to get the fastest time on a silly leader board? More of a stretch? Do that for strangers on the internet to watch as they pay him money? A step too far. Most of them don’t know what Twitch is, let alone understand why anyone would watch it. 
Kylo shifts in his chair on the other side of the room; it’s quiet enough that Armitage can’t hear it over his headphones, so he doubts the microphone picked it up, but the movement catches his eye. This is their first time having him in the room as Armitage streams. He’s editing, an oversized t-shirt hanging off his shoulder, and Armitage wishes there was time to have more thoughts about that, but he gets one last ladder and moves on to the iron floors. 
“I’m suspicious of how well this run is going,” Armitage says, eyes darting to his second monitor as he works his way through dust sprites. “I’m good at the mines, but I’m saving this seed to see if I can work out a perfection run from it.” 
It’s as he’s reading through other people agreeing that this level of luck is unusual, including a stranger accusing him of using mods as if Armitage would dare bother to cheat instead of just ‘getting good,’ as the kids say. 
BornToSlay: what’s ur skincare routine jesus
The huff of laughter is involuntary; he upgraded his web camera at Kylo’s request, and now it feels like his every fucking pore is captured and streamed. He’s gotten a few comments about it, but beyond technical questions and a single curious person asking why he upgraded, something Armitage lied about, the new image quality has gone unnoticed. Because he’s a good mod, Mitaka has already messaged him that the same user asked about Kylo earlier, and Armitage just missed it. 
They expected this, and they were prepared for this. Kylo’s channel has millions of subscribers on YouTube, he’s arguably a D-List celebrity at this point. Armitage speed runs Stardew Valley as a hobby. They’re operating on different levels of internet fame in different niches, but people have been curious, and some of those people are bound to stop in and watch him break rocks for fifteen minutes while hoping for a bounty of cave carrots. 
Still. Most of them have dropped in, decided his content wasn’t for them, and gone away. Apparently, this user has stuck around for a few streams, and Kylo said it was up to Armitage how much or little they interacted. He’s right there, and the run is going well enough he can afford to waste a few seconds entertaining this line of questioning. 
“My skincare routine is whatever Kylo forces me to do, now,” Armitage says, popping his headphones around his neck. “Kylo?”
When he looks over, Kylo is editing; he’s just also got Armitage’s stream up on his second monitor. He doesn’t bother to pretend he was working when he looks at Armitage, turning in his chair. 
“Someone wants to know what my skincare routine is, and I doubt you trust me to explain it properly.” 
Kylo laughs, and when he stands, Armitage can finally read the text on his shirt, and - Jesus, he’s wearing Armitage’s merch, they’re never going to hear the end of this. He can already see the stream compilations, and Armitage thinks he’s wearing Kylo’s sweater. 
Armitage finally uses the cherry bomb on a chuck on iron and Kylo settles behind him, his chin resting on Armitage’s head and his arms around Armitage’s shoulders. 
“It’s not consistent,” Kylo says, looking at the camera. Armitage can see him in the Streamlabs window, a lazy face of makeup and his hair piled on his head in a messy bun. He looks fantastic, which is to be expected when his entire internet presence revolves around beauty, but Armitage will never get tired of looking at him. Kylo keeps talking, but Armitage tunes him out, focuses on hitting floor forty, getting seven more iron, and then passing out so he can start building furnaces. 
Chat has started speeding up; Armitage doesn’t even have to ask Mitaka to turn on slow mode so Kylo can read anything, he just already does it. Kylo doesn’t have his contacts in, so he shifts his glasses up his nose to read the screen. 
“They want to know if I ever put makeup on you,” he says, and as Armitage makes his way into town to buy seeds from Pierre, he huffs. 
“I’m wearing makeup now,” he mutters, and he knows the mic will pick it up clearly, but he almost wishes it could be an aside. “I’ve been wearing makeup from streams since my first few months. Someone wouldn’t stop talking about my freckles, so I bought some shitty foundation at the grocery store so I wouldn’t have to ban the word.”
Kylo laughs, and Armitage can feel him look down, can feel his thumb drawing circles on his chest. 
EmilysWife: Beauty icon Hux PierreSucks: omg is that how you met
Now it’s Armitage’s turn to laugh. In the few weeks since someone recognized him out with Kylo, the few weeks since Armitage tweeted to confirm that was him, that he wasn’t Kylo’s assistant, it hasn’t come up how they met. They’ve not talked about keeping it a secret, although perhaps Armitage would like some parts of their relationship to stay between just them. 
This seems harmless enough, though. 
“Kylo tells this story better,” Armitage insists, because he loves Kylo, but he’s also cruel. Kylo’s breath is warm against his skin as he hides his face in Armitage’s neck. “Would you like to tell Chat how we met?”
“No...” The words are groaned, drawn out, a tone that perfectly conveys both Kylo’s embarrassment and his willingness to share. He stands up straight, and Armitage misses the press of his body, but he can hear the shuffle of his shirt, can see the chat as his absolutely ancient merch is on display, the screen printing cracked and faded from wear and hundreds of washes. “I was a fan.” 
“That’s shorting them the full story.” Armitage’s tone is teasing as he sleeps, wakes up, loads his furnaces and waters his crops. It’s a cycle of days he could do with muscle memory alone, has done blindfolded for a video on YouTube. “Phasma is a friend of mine, and when she did a video with Kylo, they had to pick up something she left at my house. What were your first words to me, Kylo?” From his spot hiding again, Kylo’s words are muffled. “I’ll tell them, then. He said, and I quote: ‘You talk me to sleep every night.’ That, Chat, was his opening line.” 
Kylo’s head pops up, and Armitage can see his pout on the screen, his playful glare. 
“It worked.” 
Armitage laughs. 
“After seven attempts to make yourself not sound like a stalker, I suppose it did work. Or, alternatively, I didn’t know you were hitting on me until we were on our third date.” Armitage could sound sad here, but he decides against it. He hadn’t been able to imagine a world where Kylo found him attractive. It never occurred to him that Kylo might be interested, so he lusted in quiet, alone at night with his own hand. “I still maintain that those dates don’t count, since I was unaware they were dates.” Kylo’s acrylics dig into his shoulders, and Armitage hisses in mock pain, as if Kylo’s nails aren’t rounded at the tip. “Don’t put holes in your own sweater, idiot.”
Though he attempts to fake angry, the last word comes out soft and fond as he looks up, doing his best to forget they’re on camera for a moment, to forget that he’s streaming this live and that he’ll be hearing about this for weeks. Phasma has already messaged him on Discord; Armitage will deal with her after the stream. 
The press of lips on his cheek is welcome, the loss of Kylo’s warmth less so. He waves to the web camera one last time before heading back to his own desk, putting on his headphones. Half of Chat is talking about his insane luck and all the pumpkins he’s going to plant while the other half still can’t quite believe Kylo was there, and is speculating how many streams he’s been just in the background of. Armitage won’t answer that; he doesn’t want to encourage them to ask for Kylo every stream, though he imagines they will anyway, now that the flood gate has opened. 
KyloAmidala: I normally just watch from the other room, though now I have to settle for replays if my sleep schedule is messed up. 
Armitage can hear Kylo snickering even as he puts his headphones back on.
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aemonds-wifey · 1 year
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A Stolen Kiss Over Wine
Chapter 2
Summary: You wake up with hazy memories of last night and see where that leaves you and Aegon.
You blinked repeatedly As you sat up in bed, hearing music faintly travelling through the walls of your apartment mixed with the sizzling scent of eggs and bacon being cooked. You were still wearing your Bowie shirt and underwear , you looked around and then reality hit you hard.
“You kissed your best friend ! You kissed your best friend! You kissed your best friend!” It was on a loop in your head and you couldn’t switch it off. You lazily rolled your legs out of the bed and steadily got up and moved carefully to the door,
As you managed to make your way to the kitchen You heard Tom singing “The secrets he had missed…was lying at you finger tips …” he was wearing the same clothes from last night. You hated how gifted he was with his voice, he sang so beautifully .
He stood over the hob frying some eggs and bacon, you noticed the table by the kitchen window was set, a large pot of coffee was in the centre , with a glass jug full of orange juice beside it.
He turned around and smiled at your state “Morning.” He said
You only waved “Mmm…I’ll erm.” You said wondering to the table.
“Oh uh…bad head? You drank a fair bit last night mate…” he said as you sank onto the chair and propped your elbows on the table and held you head in your hands, rubbing your temple gently.
He used the word “mate” your emotions and headache battled each other thinking about the word he used.
“So did you…mate” you emphasized the word ‘mate’ with a tone to it, you had no idea what you were thinking. You kept replaying the kiss over and over in your head as you watched him through your fingers finish up breakfast.
“I remember dancing …and pizza.” You said quietly
He giggled which in turn made your own lips curve into a smile.
“Good old Chris Rea …even drunk you dance so gracefully.” He said
You saw him almost so differently, you put your hands on the table, fidgeting with the cutlery that laid before you. You were doing anything in your power to stop looking at him, when he handed you a glass of orange juice and his finger trips had brushed with yours you felt a nerve tingle your skin.
Your eyes briefly met as he retreated to plate up some breakfast for you, he set the plate in front of you “Bon appetite!” He said before getting his own breakfast. He reached up the top cabinet which exposed the base of his back, the skin looked soft and all you wanted to do was dig your fingers in- briefly you shook your head to get these thoughts out of your head. He was your best friend. He came to the table and handed you two paracetamol
“Take them it will clear your head.” He said.
“Mm thanks.” You said with a small smile.
As he sat down and poured himself some coffee you couldn’t take your eyes off his lips, his hands and the way he took a sip of coffee and when your eyes met you quickly
Glanced down at your food and sheepishly picked up your knife and folk. He ate a slice of bread , occasionally glancing at you as you noticed when you took a long gulp of orange juice.
The electricity was intense and bubbling like a volcano, your fingers tapped along the table surface and you noticed him bite his lip slightly at your nails scratched the wood.
Again your eyes met and you held your breath slightly , he picked up his coffee and took a few sips.
You ate in silence, you picked at the bacon with your folk but had no desire to eat it. You dropped your folk on the plate, the clash of the metal made Aegon put down his coffee cup with a curious but surprised smile, he picked up some food with his folk And opened his mouth to eat.
“Are we gonna…talk about last night,” you blurted out.
Aegon paused as he was in the middle of a mouthful of bacon and sourdough bread. Your timing was disastrous. As he chewed the food you could see the cogs of his mind twisting as he was contemplating how to answer your question, as the silence drew out longer you shook your head with a defeated smile
“Forget I asked…”
He swallows the food “No I…just…”
“Yes…?” You answered a little too eagerly.
“I think…..Listen Y/N I -“
His phone started to ring …you both looked around to see where it was coming from. Aegon looked at you for a moment before getting to his feet and looking for it.
He stopped at the couch and found it on the table , he answered it “Hey? Oh Zoe yeah hi…” he said.
Your heart sank too quickly and you heard his voice get quieter , he took himself into the bathroom and closed the door.
He was in there for a while , you could hear his voice muffle against the walls- an occasional laugh and more words followed. You pushed your plate in front of you a little and poured a cup of coffee for yourself and sat back.
You held your cup against the base of your chin and held your other hand against your stomach, leaning back frustrated.
He came back with the phone against his chest and he wore an apologetic smile , his voice was low “Hey…I have to nip off …I’ll call you later?”
You briefly glanced at him “Sure.”
He walked over to you , you watched him approach and keeping the phone pressed against his chest he leant down quickly and kissed the top of your head. He paused for a moment as he looked down at you , he broke out of the trance when you both heard Zoe’s voice from his chest
“Aegon? You there?”
He blinked and picked up the phone “yeah I’m here just leaving now.” He was gone in one swift movement and you exhaled sharply.
You felt so confused , he called you ‘’mate’ yet he kissed your head- what would he have said if Zoey had not called him?
You got to your feet and immediately paced around the flat, you had some work to finish but first you had to shower and wake yourself up.
As you soaked up the hot steamy water and ran your fingers through your wet hair your mind began to wonder, closing your eyes you gave in and imagined how you wanted Aegon to join you in the shower and kiss you the way he kissed you last night. You wanted him
To mark your skin with his lips , have his hands roam your wet body , you wanted to explore his body with your fingers, lips …everything.
When you finished from your shower you went into your room and sat on the edge of the bed, drying yourself off and getting dressed in your oversized jumper and Cookie Monster lounge pants, you picked up your phone from the bedside table - no messages from Aegon. Just a long and rather pathetic apology text from Jacob which you did not even bother to read in full. You made yourself a large pot of your favourite tea and set yourself down to occupy your thoughts with work- anything to get Aegon out of your head.
🌤️
As the day progresses slowly you finished marking up the last manuscript for the day, you were sat at the desk which was based beneath one of the Windows’s. As you began to note it with your pen , as you frantically searched for a post it note and was alarmed by your phone ringing. You immediately dived for it and looked at who was calling.
It was Aegon.
Chapter 3
TAGS
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brattytoddler · 9 months
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little voicemails ੈ✩‧₊˚ 📞
okay but imagine- it’s a habit of yours to leave voicemails to the older ones in the group, mostly while you’re teetering on the edge of regressing. UGHHHH <333
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it happens when that familiar fuzzy feeling takes over and all you want is one of your caregivers. so, you play the ‘which-caregiver-will-i-call’ game as you stand to reach the wired phone in your house on the wall (while mentally small, you’re also physically much smaller than everyone else).
but honestly, most of them are working, so the chances of them picking up the phone almost never happens, but you know for a fact that eddie sits in his garage all day making music so he should pick up… right? wrong!
you frowned, even eddie was too busy. whenever you got really small, just craving one of your caregivers to hold you, you can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness whenever they aren’t around.
you dial your caregivers numbers on loop, constantly dialling, ringing… redialing, ringing… before repeating. the process becomes frustrating when nobody answers, but that also leads you to an idea. one that would definitely get you attention.
leaving little voicemails, acting all sweet and innocent so when your caregivers eventually stumble upon the 12 missed calls and 1 new voice message, they’d surely regret not answering sooner.
and you knew exactly which caregiver would be receiving the voicemail in question. johnathan.
sure, you could send it to steve or nancy, give them what they want: your absolute adorable behaviour, on full display… instead, make them desperate for a voicemail of their own (because we all know it’s going straight into their favourites to replay whenever they desire). you knew robin would love a surprise (little) voicemail just as much, but she’d have far less desperation based on the fact that she’s more likely to actually answer out of everyone, so she hears your sweet chirpy voice over the phone quite often.
eddie loves when you call him during band practice so he can prop his phone up to let you listen in on his tunes. however, eddie also plays his music very loud, rarely checking his voicemails in general. in fact, your voicemail would get lost amongst the hundreds of others left by steve telling him to “pick up the goddamn phone, munson!”
jonathan, however? the perfect victim target.
he’s almost always at home, either in his room or printing photographs, studying in the library on the rare occasion. you picked up the phone, smiling with each press of the digits as it began to ring…
and, just as expected, the sound of ringing faded to an abrupt cut-
“hey, this is jonathan- jonathan byers- i- uh, can’t come to the phone, just leave me a message with your number and i’ll get back to you- thanks- beep!”
you couldn’t help but smile, before cutting yourself off and realizing that your first few breathy giggles were already recorded on the voicemail. you lean up to push the phone closer to your mouth.
“h- johnny- is- is me, i- i was jus’ callin’ to- to say, uhmmm- i’m uh-… i miss you so so so much! and- and i really, really wanna see you soon. call me back… ‘kay?”
you hung up the phone abruptly, standing back flat on both feet before a long moment of silence. you burst out into a fit of giggles, satisfied with your plan. you were certain this would make jonathan rush over to see you, or call you back at the very least.
little did you know, sending one voicemail would lead to many, many more… <333
LIKE?? SO CUTE!!! 😭
i think i wanna make this like, a mini au? where little!reader just has a habit of sending the cutest voicemails to the older caregivers!! and they all adore how precious they are and beg you to send them more when they’re working!! <3
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