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forsakenmis · 4 years ago

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After the snap

Summary: Wanda was snapped away. You, on the other hand, remained and had moved on. You moved out of the country, started a new job, and had even gone on a few dates. Then everyone came back and suddenly a familiar witch was knocking on your workplace door.

Pairings: Top!Wanda x Reader

Warnings: dark!wanda, oral (r receiving), strap, public sex, posessive wanda, mummy kink

You’d long put away the shield (so to speak) and were at a point that going back to everyone just seemed so jarring. Maybe you didn’t want to believe it wasn’t true. After five years of grieving, of building a new life, and suddenly everyone’s just….back.

Wanda was back.

You knew it was wrong to have not contacted her. For her, it must seem like yesterday that you were whispering your plans about eloping, but that was five years ago. You moved on. Found someone else. She was nice, sweet, normal. She worked as a custom officer but she could spend hours and hours talking about all these topics that fascinated you.

She also was very predictable and normal.

Admittedly, your relationship hadn’t quite been defined. You suspected she was seeing other people, keeping her options open, and you weren’t sure how long you two were going to last but you were enjoying the time that you had together.

On top of that, you had a job at a bookstore that paid your rent. Sure, it wasn’t as flashy as it was back then but you liked being surrounded by all the books, some new and some falling apart. You spent a lot of pride restoring the latter in the back. You never had much of a chance to read before everything happened, your life was mostly spent trying to make sure everyone didn’t die.

Your abilities were healing based and that was more useful than you had initially thought when you first met them all. In fact, you thought you were awfully inadequate compared to people like Steve Rogers, Thor and Wanda Maximoff. But your time was kept filled to the brim.

Your only time to relax was your time with Wanda.

It had started off innocent enough. She used to stay with you after you finished up in the medic bay. She’d have dinner with you. Admittedly, you were pretty sure she didn’t have many other friends in the complex. Then it grew until she was fucking you every chance she could get. How else would either of you relax?

But that was a long time ago. You were done with that life. You weren’t the same person anymore. You ran and started a new life and not even the idea of Wanda could make you go back and maybe she was just that–an idea.

You were confident none of them would find you. Natasha couldn’t. You knew she had been trying to track you down like she had for Clint but no one came knocking on your door. So if they couldn’t, you were pretty sure she wouldn’t be able to find you either.

You’d just closed shop, the sunset streaming through the shutters covering the windows, and were taking stock. It had been a quiet day, but it was always quiet on a Tuesday so you had easily reached the predicted quota. The one downside was your boss, but he was only around once a week.

He was the kid of some millionaire who was trying to be hip and all that. So he opened some urban bookstore but he was too busy partying to actually stay on top of the business. Which is fine-you liked that arrangement. You’ll keep the shop running and he’ll never be up in your business. It worked without a bump in the road.

You were nearly done for the day, all you had to do after was–

The bell attached to the door trinkled. Someone had walked in. It was nearly half past, well past closing, so surely your boss would understand if you told whoever it is to leave. You were behind the shelves, you couldn’t see who had walked in. They weren’t making a lot of noise. Some people just had that soft touch, usually women.

Coming out to the front, your mouth already opening to ask them to leave, your words died in your throat.

Wanda.

Your eyes were frozen on her face, her eyes, those big doe eyes that always drew you in. She was smiling, an expression full of relief, and she was taking you in, grazing your body, before she moved forward to close the distance.

You stepped back.

Frozen with the air changing. Heavier, like you could feel the gravity pulling you down. Her light, happy, expression melted off and confusion replaced it.

“Wanda,” you said, wanting to cut her off, you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t listen to her. She’d want you to come back. Five years for you, a few days for her. “You shouldn’t be here.”

You may as well have slapped her.

“Shouldn’t be here?” Wanda repeated and you closed your eyes. For the first time in years, you heard her voice. That voice that whispered to you in your dreams. A voice you thought you could hear every time you were alone. “I think I’m exactly where I need to be.”

When you opened your eyes again, you jumped, she was right there. You didn’t even hear her footsteps. “Wan–” you began but then her lips were on yours, her tongue sliding into your open mouth and you grunted in shock. You didn’t kiss back but you didn’t push her off either. You froze. You let her tongue be pushed down your throat as her hands slid onto your cheeks.

Her thumbs beginning to rub small circles into your skin pushed you back into action, your hands going to hips to shove her off you hard enough that she stumbled back a few steps.

“Wanda, I can’t,” you hissed out. “It’s been five years. I…”

“Why aren’t you happy then?” Wanda asked, bewilderment splashed across her face and almost instantly did guilt wash through you. Like you were betraying her somehow. “I was gone for five years, and now I’m back. Why didn’t you come back? Surely, you didn’t move on that easily?”

With that, the guilt was gone.

“Easily?” You hissed out, your hands balling into fists, “don’t come into my shop and–”

You stopped. It was no use getting angry. Your sentences always fumbled into one elongated word that no one could ever understand. “You have no idea what the five years have been like,” you snapped and she tilted her head, just slightly, but enough that a cold chill went down your spine. “You shouldn’t have looked for me. I’m not interested in going back to the avengers. I moved on.”

With that, you turned on your heel to go behind the desk, tapping away at the register. Maybe if you ignored her, she’d get the hint and leave.

“So you developed an attitude?” Wanda remarked and slid her hands into the woollen cardigan that...you knitted her. You frowned when you made the connection. You spent hours labouring away at it. It wasn’t that good, the colours were awful, but she rarely took it off. “Seems we have to start at square one again.”

You frowned. You seem to be doing that a lot. You could already see the wrinkles beginning to form on your forehead. Why wasn’t she listening to you? “I’m seeing someone,” you blurted out as the cash register popped open loudly and Wanda’s face went blank as she registered what you just said. “A girl. She’s nice.”

You weren’t sure if you just signed this girl’s death certificate.

You kept eye contact with the Sokovian and even when her face morphed into a cold fury you hadn’t seen since the civil war. Her expression was tight and it almost looked like she was trying to hold herself back.

“I see.”

“I’m sorry,” you whispered after a moment, “I...I know this can’t be easy for you either. I know it must seem like last week that...well. You know. I just...that life is over, for me at least. I hope you can understand.”

Wanda was silent. She was being too silent. She didn’t say anything, she stood there watching you, and you were too nervous to say anything else or make the next move. Maybe, hopefully, Wanda wouldn’t even say anything else, just walk out. Resent you for the rest of her life. It was better that way.

Instead she walked around the register and your heart dropped to your stomach.

“Wanda-”

“Shut up,” she hissed, her hand whipping up to grab your jaw. Your hands shot up to her wrists and she dragged you forward, closer to her face. “Do you really think I’d let you give up on us this easily? That I’d let you whore yourself out to some girl off the street?”

You didn’t say anything but your glare said enough.

“I trained you so well. I spent years breaking you in, years loving you, and you treat me like this? Like I’m just some common bitch you can throw onto the street?” Wanda’s tone didn’t match her words. Her tone was soft, almost a coo, sounding more disappointed than angry. You almost wished she was more angry than disappointed.

Her lips were on yours again and her hand moved to the back of your head, her teeth biting down into your lips and you groaned at the sharp pain, giving her entrance back into your mouth.

A hand went down between your legs, rubbing, and you instinctively opened your legs. Your body remembered her. Remembered her scent. Everything.

Wanda hummed in approval and soon you were being pushed onto the counter. She broke the kiss, pulling back to look down at you, her hands beginning to rub the inside of your thighs. “Just one night,” she whispered, her expression already having smoothed out, as if that kiss, your touch, was all she needed. “One night with me and if you still want me to leave by the end of the night...well, I’ll leave you alone. Forever. Even if you change your mind. Even if you come crawling back, begging.”

You doubted her. Something in the back of your mind didn’t believe her. On anything. You were pretty sure she wanted you to beg. Your hands were shaking and you gulped. Everything about this reminded you of when you were last happy. Like you were back in the avengers tower where nothing was going wrong.

Her lips were on yours again and her hands soon began to pull at your skirt, ripping them off you with ease, to find nothing but your bare cunt for anyone to see. You jerked up when her hand slammed against it, slapping it. Once, twice, three times, four. “You dirty little whore,” she whispered, “you let anyone and everyone see this, didn’t you?” She slid a finger into your folds and your bottom lip trembled.

“Wanda…” you whispered, feeling your own walls beginning to crumble. Maybe one night wasn’t so bad. One night. One indulgence.

“It’s mine tonight,” Wanda confirmed before suddenly her hands were on your waist and flipped you around and your stomach slapped onto the desk, taking away your breath, leaving you gasping. “You said I didn’t know what happened. In the past five years. You’re right, I don’t, but you’re going to tell me. Tell me everything I missed. If you leave anything out, and I know when you do sweetheart, I’ll stop. Understand me?”

“Yes,” you breathed out as you felt her mouth in between your legs, her tongue lapping at your clit and your back arched as you tried to push more of yourself into her. Soon, it started spilling out. What you did the first few months, how you struggled to get out of bed, how you travelled the world. Therapy. Everything. Her tongue didn’t stop, in fact the more you spilt, her tongue sped up, making you wetter and wetter by the second. “I couldn’t get you out of my head,” you mumbled by the end of it, “I found her. She was everything you weren’t. Mundane. Boring.”

Your stomach was tightening, that tempting release building and building, so expertly brought on by the way Wanda devoured you, the way she breathed onto your throbbing clit, the way her tongue teased your gaping entrance. When you stopped, she pulled away and you bit down onto your bottom lip to stop yourself from cursing.

“Such a good little whore for me,” Wanda purred, her hand falling in between your slit to rub your clit and the moan that left your mouth sacrificed any and all self respect that you might have been clinging onto. “This is where you belong isn’t it? Bent over for mummy. I treat you so well, don’t I?”

Two fingers dipped into your already gaping entrance pushing them in and out. “I think you deserve a little reward,” Wanda hummed out, “for being so honest with mummy.”

You didn’t have much long to prepare before you felt a strap push into your entrance and you gasped in a sharp breath, your eyes bulging and your body pressed forward. Wanda didn’t push into you completely, only pushed the tip in and out, focussing on the one area.

In truth, that was worse than if she shoved into you completely. You were forced to focus on that one area, not get that relief if she were to push in deeper, and it was as if she was grabbing at every inch of your mind, forcing you to feel nothing but that tip dipping in and out of your body.

“Tell me…” she whispered, her hands coming onto your waist to grip them, nails digging into your skin, “tell me where you belong, baby girl. Who you belong to. Look at you, five years without me and you still get so wet for me. I go in so easily. Don’t worry, baby, I’m not going to leave you again.”

“W-w-” you choked out and you took in a breath, trying to contain the moans slipping out of your mouth, “you said one–”

Her hand slammed down onto your bare ass and you jerked forward. Still, she didn’t go deeper, didn’t give you what you wanted. Still, you didn’t verbalise this. Your skin was stinging and your fingers reached up to hang onto the edge of the desk.

“Answer my question, don’t make me treat you like a common whore,” Wanda hissed, pulling out completely just to thrust back in, shoving more of the shaft inside of you, ripping your walls open, but then she pulled back to just the tip again.

Then the doorbell rang again and it was as if someone poured a bucket of ice cold water all over your body. Your vision was already blurring by this point but you could see her outline, the blonde hair, standing at the door.

Wanda slammed into you, bottoming out, and a scream shot out of your lips, whilst her hands were in your hair, pulling your head back until your neck was straining. She could see your face, see every expression you pulled as Wanda began to fuck you without restraint.

“If I were you,” Wanda’s voice broke through your moans and screams, icy cold and calm despite the way she was beginning to thrust inside of you, “I’d leave and never come back. If you knew what was good for you, you’d wipe my girl from everything. Phone, address, memories.”

You couldn’t hear what she said, you could hear her voice, but unlike Wanda, it was all a garbled mess. Even in this state, Wanda’s words were in absolute clarity. You watched her leave. The door clicked shut and you swore you could see red mist at the door, locking it.

Wanda bent over you, pressing down onto your back, lips pressing against your neck, sucking and nipping, her hips still pushing inside of you, pushing you closer and closer to an orgasm that was tightening at the base of your stomach.

Then her movements slowed until she was completely still, her strap still inside of you, your walls wrapped around it, clinging to it.

“Much better, just us,” Wanda whispered as she nipped at your earlobe and you moaned. “You take my cock so well, don’t you? No, I couldn’t dream of letting you go, not when you’re such a good girl for me. I’ll take you with me and I’ll give you the life you want. A normal life, where no one will ever hurt you. You can read all you want. Forget the world outside. Just us two, together.”

“Mummy,” you whispered and you could feel her body vibrate as she hummed in approval. “Mummy, please.”

“Tell me where you belong,” she whispered back as she began to move her hips again.

“With you, mummy, under you. I missed you so much,” you whispered, “I belong to you. I always have.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know you did,” Wanda whispered before she stretched up and her hands went to your elbows, pulling you up from the table before she began to rail you. Sharp thrusts, slamming into you again and again, and tears began to burn the back of your eyes as pleasure began to roll through you. “You're going to cum for me like a good girl. Then you’re going to lie on this table to wait as I go pack your bags. You live above this, don’t you?”

“Y-yes, mummy,” you choked out as your orgasm was already threatening to flow through you. You could feel your own juices dripping down your thighs and you knew that your boss would be walking in to find an absolute mess.

“And then we’ll leave. Together.”

“Together.”

It wasn’t long until you felt like you were choking on your breath, your stomach twisting and churning, your legs trembling, and it was Wanda keeping you up. Otherwise, you would have collapsed onto the table, even the ground.

Soon, you felt it. Felt that blissful euphoria that often put you to sleep wash over you in intense waves that made your toes curl. Wanda was laughing, quietly, as she felt you come undone around her strap. “That’s it, baby girl, let it all go. Good little whore.”

She slid out of you with a pop and you groaned, the disappearing sensation already sorely missed. “Mummy, please, I still need you…” you mumbled, your words drowsy and reality was folding inwards around you as you felt your body hit the table again.

“I’ll be back, in just a moment,” Wanda whispered into your ear before her warmth disappeared and you could hear her moving through the store and up the creaky stairwell. Then your eyes slid open and you took in a deep breath as you began to move. Pushed off the desk, your legs sore and shaky but stable, and you looked for the skirt, long discarded. You knew you only had a small amount of time before she realised or, god forbid, heard you. Pulling the skirt up you grabbed only your wallet, didn’t even dare grab your phone and risk being tracked. You can get a burner if need be. You knew it’d be difficult, if she found you here, then she’d be able to find you wherever you went but...maybe she’ll give up.

You didn’t go through the front door, not with the bell, but there was a small door leading out to the back. Your footsteps were silent as could be, and your heart was beating in your chest. One wrong step and she could hear you. You could hear the banging doors, even her humming, but she didn’t stop.

Soon, you were in the back alley, with nothing but overflowing bins and a motorbike there. Yours. The only thing you kept from Stark. Faster than anything you could buy in a store. You hated riding with a skirt, let alone with these shoes, but what choice did you have?

You only had so much time to run.

#wanda marvel #wanda maximoff #dark!wanda maximoff #dark!wanda #wanda x reader #top!wanda #wanda maximov #misfitwrites

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duuhrayliegh · 4 years ago

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my hero - request

request: anon: hi could you write a sebastian x female reader fic where she suffers from anxiety and feels bad because of it but he comforts her and tells her there’s nothing wrong with her and how strong she is even though she has this disorder

pairing: sebastian stan x female!reader

warnings: self-esteem issues, anxiety, toxicity in the fandom, language?

a/n: hey nona! you weren’t super specific on what type of anxiety that you wanted to reader to have, so if this isn’t what you had in mind, lmk and i’ll write you another fic! other than that i hope you like it!

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

xoxo ray

check out my m.list

You and Seb met at a coffee shop in New York. It was totally cliche and seemed straight out of a storybook. You had somehow managed to spill coffee on that specimen of a man, and he was kind enough to let you pay for his dry cleaning. Your relationship didn’t grow until you ran into him again while you were at a bar with your friends. If he had any say in telling the story of how you met, he spotted you from across the smoky bar and he knew then and there that he had to get to know you. Truthfully, you liked his version, but the real one was just indescribable. It seemed, to you at least, that you were destined to be with this man. Seeing him twice in one week? Come on, that’s possible if you were in the small town you grew up in, but not New York.

You obviously had recognized him as an actor, but really you didn’t care. That’s what drew Sebastian to you in the first place. You treated him as if he was any other guy on the street, he was able to be a normal person around you. Now, two years later, you lounge on the couch of your apartment in LA that you shared with the man you love. He’s still auditioning for any role that catches his eye and you’re supporting him no matter what.

His fans for the most part adored you and your relationship with Sebastian. The fans who didn’t like you were your only issue with this whole affair, but they had nothing to do with Sebastian other than flood his socials with nasty messages about you. You weren’t perfect, that you knew all too well, and you tried to let the comments roll off your shoulders. Most of the time you were successful in your efforts, but other times they clung to your skin like an unwanted disease.

Sebastian was currently promoting his new project Endings, Beginnings. You were so unbelievably proud of Seb, he was doing something that made him happy. In this particular film, he was acting alongside Shailene Woodley, who was just amazing. Seb always came home gushing about the new inside jokes that they had come up with. One of your favorite things that Seb did with you was run lines. You liked having the inside scoop on his new works, but this one was harder for you. It had quite a few sex scenes between Seb’s character Frank and Shailene’s Daphne.

Not that it bothered you. Nope. Didn’t bother you. At all.

...mmm, okay maybe it bugged you a little. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Sebastian, it was… well you couldn’t really describe what it was. Whatever the case may be, it was putting you deeper and deeper into a funk, one that you were having a hard time coming out of. And Seb’s fans who weren’t in your corner, weren’t really helping you any.

A few nights ago, Seb surprised you with a casual night out in LA. He texted you before he got home and told you that he was going to be taking you out. Did he give you a dress code for the evening? No, he did not (wonderful, thanks so much Seb). You decided to dress in a half business casual, half rail me when we get home outfit. You ended up wearing an adorable bustier top that was embroidered with pretty blue and pink flowers, a pair of destroyed jeans covered your legs. You finished it off with a pair of nude heels, when you looked in the mirror, you thought you looked hot as fuck. It was around seven when Seb picked you up, mouth hanging open, in awe of your outfit.

“Oh my god. You look so beautiful, Y/N.” He opened the passenger door of his car after he hugged you, giving you a small peck on the lips. Sebastian drove you to a restaurant a block off of Thai Town called Home Restaurant.

“Babe, this place is so cute!” You squeezed Sebastian’s upper arm, jumping up and down beside him. “How’d you find this place?” Sebastian shook his head, smiling at you.

“I asked Shai, actually.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, and your heart sank a little. Why did it do that? “She said that the paps hardly ever come around here.” He leaned down pressing a kiss to your temple. “I thought that draga mea deserved a quiet night out on the town.” His voice rasped as he spoke in his native tongue, making a shiver race down your spine.

“Well, tell her I said thank you.” You offered him a small smile. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing circles on the exposed skin above your jeans. He spoke with the hostess as your mind drifted away. You were pulled out of your thoughts when he guided you to your table. Sebastian sat across from you, staring deeply into your eyes. You brought your hand up to rest your chin on it, staring back at him. “How’s everything been going?” You were genuinely interested in the answer and it made your heart warm watching his face light up.

“It’s been going really well. Everyone we worked with was real nice, it made all the scenes more comfortable.” Seb’s eyebrows rose at the mention of the scenes and you knew which ones he was referring to.

“Oh, right.” You tried not to let your emotions show.

“Yeah, we’re about to start teasing some of them to promote the show.” Seb sighed at the thought of having to use social media, you shook your head at him.

“I’ll help you with it, you dork.” You laughed to hide your discomfort. “Which scene did they approve for the posts?” Sebastian began to speak when he was interrupted by your waitress. After the two of you ordered your food, the waitress returned with your drinks. Sebastian took a large gulp of his before answering your previous question.

“They want me to post the trailer and then the scene between Frank and Daphne at the bar.” You tried to think back to the script, remembering the context. Frank and Daphne were meeting after Daphne had gone out on a date with Jack. Daphne was claiming that she didn’t want to be a wedge in their friendship, then proceeded to make out with Frank. If you were recalling correctly, Frank and Daphne’s first sex scene followed soon after.

“Okay, we can do that. Do you have any behind the scene pictures you wanna post too?” Seb got out his phone, scrolling through his camera roll to see. He had several different photos of him with Jamie and then him with Shailene. He showed you his phone on a picture of Shailene leaned against him on a couch, her arm over his waist. A red filter colored the photo, you had to hand it to him, it was a good one to use. “We can post it whenever we get home, love.” Sebastian locked his phone and shoved it in his pocket, to focus solely on you.

“How has your day been, draga mea?” You bit your lip as you thought about what you’ve been doing. You’ve been working towards your Master’s, so your days have been filled with preparing for your dissertation. On top of that, you’ve become a bit of an influencer on different social media platforms. Really, you believe your popularity came from your relationship with Sebastian. You’ve been giving his fans the content that they’ve always wanted. Not only that, but you’re active with them.

“My day was good today. I had to edit a few papers from my other classmates but other than that I didn’t do much. I did make a few TikTok videos, but really today was a bit of a lounge day for me.” Seb smiled at you, proud of how hard you’ve been working.

“I should be getting a few days off soon, so we can relax together in the apartment, if you aren’t too busy with your classes.” He stretched his arm across the table, palm up waiting for your hand. Seb pulled your hand up to his mouth, placing a sloppy kiss onto the back of it. His eyes settled on you lovingly. To Sebastian, you were the greatest thing that had ever happened to him.

The two of you managed to finish your meal in peace. No fans came up to Sebastian asking for photos, no paparazzi swarms when you left, just a quiet meal for a normal couple in love. After you got home and you were snuggled in your pajamas alongside Sebastian in your comfortable bed, he handed you his phone to read over his post for his Instagram. The paragraph was sappy, about his time working with Drake, the director, and working with the rest of the cast. Seb always was a softy, never was able to hide it, especially in promo posts.

“It looks good to me. Are you going to post it now? Or wait until tomorrow morning?” Seb debated, he probably should wait and do it tomorrow, but he was most likely going to forget to do it. He clicked post, putting his phone on charge and snuggling into you.

“Thank you for always being there for me, Y/N.” He kissed your jawline, nuzzling his face into your neck. “It really means a lot to me, baby. I love you so much.” He wrapped both hands around your waist, pulling you to his front. You smiled wide, momentarily forgetting all of your troubles.

“I love you too, Seb.” You turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss against the corner of his mouth. “Now let’s get some sleep, love.” Little did you know that a single post could ruin all of the progress that you thought you had made.

*********************

You woke the next morning, alone in bed. You could hear pots clanging in the kitchen of your home, bringing a smile to your face. Before you left the safety of your bed, you checked your socials out of habit. You opened Instagram first, seeing an absurd amount of notifications this early in the morning. Your smile dropped as soon as you opened the first post. Comments on Sebastian’s post about Endings, Beginnings and his chemistry with Shailene weren’t entirely out of the ordinary. They were to be expected, they were playing parts in a love triangle. People were ‘shipping’ Shailene with Seb and Jamie, so that wasn’t too crazy.

What hurt you were the comments saying, “living for shailene and sebastian! she’s a much better match for him than y/n.”

“never thought that y/n girl was going to last, glad he’s going w shailene”

“shailene and seb supremacy”

“yes! i’ve always supported seb in everything he’s done, but i rlly questioned him when he got w that y/n girl. what was he thinking?!”

Tears gathered in your eyes as you continued scrolling. You never thought you and Sebastian never fit. You knew that people had issues with your relationship, but you never let it get in your head this bad. You checked your explore page, pictures of you and Sebastian from last night were riddling the page.

Your heart dropped.

There were pictures of the two of you from last night with parts of your body circled. The exposed skin above your waistband, the excess skin on your neck and arms. You don’t know where they got these pictures, but your stomach was steadily sinking with each picture you saw. The door of your room opened, revealing a smiley Sebastian with a plate full of eggs in one hand and a cup of orange juice in the other.

“Good morning, baby.” You quickly shoved your phone away from you, wiping your tears away from your eyes to meet his. His brows furrowed immediately. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” You snuffled quietly, before answering.

“Uh, nothing. I’m just so proud of you.” You smiled at him, not wanting to bring down his already happy mood with your problems. Was that entirely healthy? Probably not, but you were doing it anyway, consequences be damned.

“Oh, well you don’t have to cry for me, Y/N. Even if you’re proud.” He walked up to your side of the bed, placing the cup and plate on your nightstand. He brought his hand up to your cheeks, wiping away your tear streaks. “You know that I only like to see tears whenever it’s me causing you so much pleasure you beg me to stop.” He winked at you, smirking at your rising blush. To say that didn’t lift your spirits for about half a second would be a lie. Sebastian brought the plate to your lap, waiting for you to start eating. At this particular moment, after seeing all those horrible pictures of your body, your appetite had gone out the window, but he was so smiley.

“After you eat, I want ya to shower.” Sebastian’s hand came up to your jaw, cupping it as you used it to chew the eggs. “We’ve got a long day of lounging and enjoying each other's company ahead of us.” Sebastian stood from the bed, throwing a wink at you as he left the room dramatically. You stopped eating soon after he left, the food tasting like ash on your tongue. At some point, you got into the bathroom, staring at the reflection in the mirror.

Your phone was in your hand again. The pictures flooding your Twitter feed. Shaky breaths left your mouth as you watched your reflection tilt its head. Tears began gathering in your eyes as it felt like you weren’t in your own skin anymore. You had worked so hard to be comfortable in your own body.

It’s amazing how just one picture can ruin everything.

You leaned forward on the countertop, hands holding up your weight. You shifted towards the mirror, examining every miniscule detail that your eyes could see. Your lids came down quickly, tears dragging down your cheeks. You squeezed your eyes closed, shaking your head back and forth.

“You are not going to let this get to you.” You took a few deep breaths as you turned on the shower. Not wanting to be around the mirror anymore, you kept your bath short, talking to yourself the whole time. By the time you left the bathroom, it was steamed completely, you couldn’t see your reflection even if you wanted to.

“He loves you.” You had a mantra and you continued to repeat it as you walked into your shared closet. “He loves all of you.” You pulled one of his old t-shirts off a hanger. “Sebastian loves you.” A pair of your underwear and his loose boxers covered your lower half. “Sebastian loves all of you.” You shoved your feet into a pair of fuzzy pink socks, leaving the closet still muttering to yourself. You tucked your phone into your waistband after checking your socials again. You know you shouldn’t have, but there was some part of you that just wouldn’t let you not.

The same shit covered your For You page on TikTok. Videos from the trailer of Seb and Shailene and then videos of you and Seb, comparing the two relationships. “They do fit well together.” You thought to yourself. A part of you wondering why Seb was with you in the first place.

“Did you say something, love?” Sebastian looked at you from the couch. A blanket was strewn over his lower half, his upper body inviting, waiting for you to join him. His smile dropped when he took in your glassy eyes instead of your usual happy expression.

“Oh baby, what’s wrong?” He started towards you, eyes running over your body for any outward injuries. An understanding look crossed his face when he saw your phone clutched in your hand. “Y/N, talk to me, baby.” Sebastian’s hands rested on your shoulders, lightly caressing your biceps. You recoiled from his touch, feeling uncomfortable in your own body.

“Just some stuff that some fans posted.” Seb’s thumb traced just under your eye, wiping away the tears. He held his right hand out for your phone, to understand what you were talking about. His brows furrowed deeply as he scrolled, not fully processing how destructive his fans could be. Sebastian always believed that they were the best fucking people in the world. He knew that they could be mean, but this was something else.

“They don’t know what they’re talking about, Y/N.” Sebastian’s voice was firm. It was almost strong enough to cut through the fog invading your brain, but not quite. You had officially zoned out. Dead to the world. Lost in your own thoughts. No matter how destructive those thoughts may be.

Sebastian noticed that you were already too deep, having experienced this with you many times before. He was aware that you were self-conscious, insecure, however you want to describe it. Your anxiety always got worse when you were stressed. Prepping for your dissertation was definitely a stressful time. Add on top of that, Sebastian was constantly pulling you from your work for various reasons. Had he contributed to this? Scratch that thought, he didn’t have time for that. He needed to bring you back down to Earth, back to him.

“Y/N.” His hands hovered over your hips. “I’m going to touch you for a second.” He directed you to the couch, settling on the coffee table in front of you. His fingers lightly traced circles onto your knees, as he assessed how he should approach this.

“Y/N. Baby?” Sebastian hesitated before bringing his fingers up to your chin, not wanting you to react badly. “I’m right here, Y/N, it’s Sebastian.” His left hand hadn’t left your knee, continuing to trace small patterns into your skin, giving you something to ground yourself with. He watched you blink and swallow harshly, inhaling sharply before opening your mouth.

“Why are you with me?” Your chin trembled with unvoiced sobs. “You deserve the world, Seb. I’m not even--” Your sentence was cut off by a loud whimper causing tears to start streak down. Sebastian wasn’t sure if this was a situation where you wanted him to be involved, so he waited for a sign.

“I’m not even worth a glance from you.” Your hand came up to wipe at your runny nose. “They’re so right. You need to be with someone like Shailene.” A bitter sob racked your body, making your body fold in half. Sebastian caught you before you hurt yourself.

“Y/N. I love you.” He always heard you say that to yourself when you thought he wasn’t listening. He knew that you suffered from anxiety, so he was always watching. Always paying attention to your little cues. The little things that he could use to help you as much as he could. “I love all of you.” He held one of your hands, running his thumb over the back of it.

“I don’t care what they say, baby.” He lifted your face to his, steel blue eyes locking with your cloudy pair. “I picked you.” He pecked your right cheek. “I want you.” A peck to your left. “I want only you.” One to your forehead. “It’s always been you, Y/N.” Another on your chin. “I love all of you, Y/N.” Sebastian landed a final short kiss to your lips, lingering for only a second.

“I want you to understand something, Y/N.” His gaze never left you. “I’m not going anywhere.” His brows raised as he hardened his voice. “I’m especially not going anywhere at the behest of my fans. I love them to death, but they don’t get to decide who I love.” Sebastian shifted to sit next to you on the couch. “Is it okay if I put my arms around you?” All he got was a brief nod in return, which was expected.

“I’m yours, Y/N. As much as you’re mine.” His arms descended around you, wrapping you in a loving embrace. You turned to face him fully, bringing your own arms around his waist, shoving your head into his neck.

“I’m sorry you have to deal with all my shit, Seb.” Sebastian almost missed your comment because you spoke into his shoulder and through loud snuffles. He backed away to look you in the face.

“I signed up for this, Y/N. I’m here for whatever we go through.” He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “We go through ‘your shit’ together, Y/N. This is a partnership, a two-way street.” He looked at the weak smile on your face, heart warming slightly at the sight. His face turned serious, casting a glance at your phone on the coffee table.

“How long have you been sitting on this?” He knew how quickly your mind could twist things, so he wasn’t sure what to expect. You bit your lip, not meeting his eyes anymore.

“Just since this morning.” He held you away from his body, watching your expression.

“Is this why you were crying earlier?” You gave him a meek nod in response. “Baby, I thought we talked about this. We have to talk to each other when we think we’re going to go into a funk.” The two of you had talked about it before, but you didn’t think this was going to be a funk.

“I should’ve been able to just shake this off because I know you love me and you won’t leave me because of something that some people on the Internet say.” The words left your mouth before you could process everything, your mind quick to defend itself.

“It’s okay, Y/N. You don’t always have to be able to shake something off. We just have to keep each other in the loop.” Sebastian looked over your tear-stained face, pressing a kiss to your forehead again. “Let’s ditch the phones today. Just spend the day in each other’s arms, how’s that sound?” You smiled softly, nodding at the man in front of you. He got up quickly hiding both of your phones in the kitchen somewhere.

This definitely wasn’t a solution to dealing with your anxiety, Sebastian knew that. It also wasn’t dealing with the toxic people on the Internet, but you didn’t need that right now. You needed to be immersed in an environment that accepted what you were going through without judgement, Sebastian could provide that. Seb hummed happily when you snuggled into his side under the covers on your couch while he searched for a movie. He kissed the top of your head and he felt you smile against his stomach.

“I’m proud of you, draga mea.” You turned to face him, a confused expression lacing your features.

“For what, Seb?” He stroked your face with a single finger, mapping out your features.

“I’m proud of how you handle yourself. I’m amazed at how strong you are, even when you think you’re not.” He leaned closer to you, whispering his next words. “You’re my hero.” One corner of your mouth twitched upwards, not wanting to accept it. You rolled your eyes playfully, settling back onto his stomach before speaking.

“I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you, Y/N.”

433 notes · View notes

queenshelby · 3 years ago

Text

The Last Semester - Part Three

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Smut

Words: 3,345

Original Blog:

@queenshelby

Previous Parts: Part One; Part Two

***************************

The Blind Date

It was 7 o’clock when you walked into the local Irish pub, looking for your date Patrick in a crowded room. Luckily, Emma had shown you Patrick’s Facebook profile and he certainly was handsome and easily recognisable.

Unsurprisingly, when you saw him standing at the bar with a pint of Guinness, he had already caught the waitresses’ attention and she tried her best to flirt with him until you approached.

‘Hi, Patrick?’ you asked and he nodded before shaking your hand and suggesting that you find somewhere else to sit.

Eventually, you located one of the high-top tables on the other side of the pub and sat down with your beers and began talking.

Patrick was a doctor at the university campus who had graduated medical school as little as two years ago. But, whilst he clearly was smart, you quickly realised that he was somewhat arrogant and lacked a good sense of humour.

Regardless, you tried to make the most of the night until, eventually, Patrick sought some reassurance from you that you would be going home with him that night. According to him, he didn’t like wasting his time if there was nothing in it for him.

His comments caught you by surprise and you quickly advised him that you were not that kind of woman and you certainly wouldn’t go home with someone you barely knew.

Patrick was disappointed and the conversation escalated quickly when he called you a prude and referred to you as being a woman who simply uses men to get free drinks.

You were speechless and, at half time, you put $10 pounds onto the table for your drinks and excused yourself quickly, grabbing your bag and headed for the bathroom.

There was no way you would be putting up with a man like this and you couldn’t believe that Emma thought that you would like him. Did she really think as little of you, you wondered?

Later that Evening

‘Cillian, hey’ you said as, after spending ten minutes in the bathroom collecting your thoughts, you walked out towards the entrance of the pub.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ Cillian asked as he immediately noticed your red and somewhat teary eyes.

‘Well, let’s just say that my roommate set me up on a blind date with a total wanker’ you laughed but, really, you weren’t sure whether you should laugh or cry after what he had said to you. It certainly didn’t help your self-esteem and that was something you struggled with.

What you were, however, sure about was that you were ready to leave even if that meant that you would miss the second part of the game.

‘Do you want to get out of here?’ Cillian asked, his hand resting on your shoulder and his eyes giving you a concerning but yet reassuring look.

You quickly nodded and Cillian responded with a simple ‘common then’ before dumping his half full pint of beer and walking outside with you.

Once you made it out of the door unnoticed, you inhaled deeply. ‘Damn and I really wanted to see the game. Ireland is so close this time’ you pouted slightly disappointed.

‘I am going to watch the rest at my place. You are welcome to come along’ Cillian offered and you took a moment to think about his offer. You knew that your flatmates were having a party and the game was only available on pay tv and you would much rather sit on the lounge with Cillian and watch the Ireland beat France than clean up vomit and empty bottles of booze at home.

‘Uhm yes, why not. Thanks’ you said shyly and followed Cillian to his apartment which was only a five-minute stroll from the pub.

Finally some Privacy

‘Wine or beer?’ Cillian asked after you took off your shoes and sat down on the lounge in his living room.

‘Whatever you are having’ you responded and Cillian was quick to open a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon.

‘Thank you’ you said as he handed you a glass and sat down next to you. You really weren’t much of a red wine drinker but pretended to enjoy it.

There was an awkward silence between you as you watched the second half of the game but you enjoyed it nonetheless.

You struggled paying attention to the commentators as your mind focused on the man sitting next to you instead. The smell of his aftershave mixed with detergence he had used to wash his clothes drove you absolutely crazy. And then there were his hands, which you watched every time he reached for his glass of wine.

But it wasn’t just you watching Cillian. He watched you as well and often gazed over to you, focusing on your soft facial features.

Eventually, after about twenty minutes into the second half, you couldn’t bare the silence any longer and started a conversation.

‘So, you wanted to ask me something yesterday when I came to your office. But then you didn’t. I am curious though. What was it?’ you said shyly, slightly encouraged by the wine in your system.

‘I was actually going to ask you whether you wanted to watch the game tonight’ Cillian murmured, looking somewhat embarrassed when he looked over to you.

‘So why didn’t you?’ you went on to ask, causing Cillian to chuckle.

‘Because I realised how inappropriate that would have been’ he admitted and you smiled, cheeks flushing red.

‘Well, here we are’ you said nervously, looking into Cillian’s deep blue eyes for a moment before trying to look away shyly.

But, Cillian wouldn’t let you, reaching for your face with one of his hands.

‘Hey’ he said quietly as his thumb ran over your chin gently. ‘I like when you look at me’ he then went on to say and, just like that, you leaned forward and pressed your lips onto his once again.

The kiss you shared was gentle and tentative, not rushed and not forced in any way. It was a simple kiss, brief but exciting.

‘I am sorry’ you said after your lips drifted apart, but this time, you didn’t look away and your eyes got lost in his.

Cillian shook his head briefly before drawing your face closer towards his again for yet another kiss. Again, it was tentative but, this time, you parted your lips slightly, allowing his tongue to enter your mouth and explore.

‘I shouldn’t be pursuing this Y/N’ Cillian said quietly as, eventually your lips drifted apart. ‘It’s not right on so many levels’ he went on to say but you quietened his lips with a third kiss, a passionate kiss which drew your body even closer towards his until you found your way onto his lap, facing him, pressing your body against his as your tongues moved with each other in sync.

‘I am a grown woman Cillian. I can’t see anything wrong with this and I certainly don’t want you to stop kissing me’ you said as your lips drifted apart again, a shy smile escaping you as you did.

‘I am also twenty years older than you and supervising your drama project’ he then went on to say somewhat concerned.

‘I don’t care about the difference in age and, technically, you aren’t my supervisor anymore, Aidan is’ you reassured Cillian, smirking at him as you did.

‘Still, not a good look getting involved with one of the students from the project’ Cillian said reluctantly but without making any attempt to push you away.

‘Well, I could leave now and you can ask me out again in three weeks when you finish up your volunteering position’ you then suggested all while you started to grind against him, feeling his erection strain against his jeans beneath you.

Your suggestion fell on deaf ears as Cillian already struggled to contain his emotions and needs with you on top of him and, just as you finished your sentence, he affirmed what he wanted with another passionate kiss.

The kiss you were sharing soon became heated and desperate and Cillian’s hands started to roam over your warm skin beneath your thin jumper.

His touch instantly sent shivers over you skin and down your spine and sent you into overdrive when his hands began to cup your small breasts.

You moaned into his mouth and, just after you did, you pulled back slightly, allowing him to pull your jumper over your head.

As he did, you suddenly felt a little nervous and self-conscious but it was obvious. He wanted you and his lips soon met yours again.

‘Cill…’ you said in between kisses and he looked at you, responding with a quiet ‘hmm’ as his eyes were questioning what you wanted to say.

‘It’s been two years since I have been with anyone and I don’t really do one night stands’ you murmured quietly and Cillian simply smiled, caressing your face with one of his hands before responding to your comment.

‘Good’ he said before giving you a quick peck. ‘Neither do I’ he reassured you without telling you that it had been six months for him too, which is when he broke up with his last long term girlfriend Nadine.

After another minute or two of more passionate kisses, Cillian picked you up and, before you could really prepare yourself for what was about to happen, you were in his bed.

Nervously but eager at the same time, you looked up at him with what you hoped were bedroom eyes.

He got the message and hoovered over you, kissing you gently before continuing to undress you, gentle but a little hurried.

You had already lost your jumper in the living room earlier and now he was pulling on your jeans, getting rid of them in a haste and leaving you exposed in your grey cotton underwear.

‘I didn’t quite plan for this’ you said nervously as you weren’t really dressed to impressed, your underwear simple and not sexy at all.

‘You look beautiful just the way you are Y/N’ Cillian reassured you before leaving a trail of kisses on your warm skin.

The anticipation was already killing you. With each passing second, his lips trailing over your bare shoulders and up your neck, you felt yourself shiver, the heat traveling right down to the taut muscles inside you, right between your legs. It was slick there, the result of your growing arousal.

It wasn’t long until Cillian unclipped your bra, exposing your small and perky breasts. You were impressed that he had immediately noticed the clasp of the bra at the front. He certainly paid attention to detail.

By now, your nervousness had sat in and your cheeks began to flush as his eyes gazed over your body.

Cillian noticed and simply responded with a warm smile before nudging your nose with his.

‘We can stop if you want to’ Cillian began to say but you immediately interrupted him.

‘I want you Cillian, please’ you whispered and he responded with a gentle nod.

‘Relax’ he then whispered before kissing you again and you took a deep breath and closed your eyes.

‘Cillian’ you eventually moaned as he nipped your throat with his teeth before sitting back.

You opened your eyes again and watched as Cillian grabbed his shirt from the back, and pulled it down over his head. Next off were his jeans, and then his briefs.

You couldn’t help but stare at him. His body was perfect, his chest was only lightly covered with some hair and his skin was covered in freckles.

But, when you lowered your eyes, your sense of shyness returned and seeing him completely naked in front of you caused you to flush.

He was clearly aroused by you, hard and ready, even though you only just started.

As you nervously looked at him, Cillian leaned forward and began to gently run his hands over your stomach, leaning down to kiss it, before hooking his index fingers into the hem of your panties and pulling them down your legs.

You inhaled sharply, almost forgetting to breath out again as he exposed your soaking wet mound.

What now, you wondered? Like the two men you’ve been with in the past, would he proceed directly to the main event?

‘You are so sexy, you know that?’ Cillian went on to say and you couldn’t help but chuckle.

‘Sure’ you said nervously as he spread your legs before bending down and pressing his hot mouth right against your sopping wet slit.

You didn’t expect that and immediately let out a sharp gasp.

‘Oh god’ you moaned in pleasure as you put one of your hands in his hair and gripped the sheets beneath you with the other.

Cillian’s tongue ran through your slit several times before it swirled around over your clit gently.

‘Fuck’ you cried out, throwing your head back as he began to eat you out, his tongue working wonders on your sex-deprived pussy.

His hands were on your thighs, pushing them farther apart, fingers digging into your skin.

‘Please’ you eventually said, not even sure what you were pleading for. You just knew that he couldn't stop or you would scream.

Your pussy was sensitive, and it had been so long since you had sex and even then, you never quite experienced any sensation like this.

‘Cillian, oh god’ you moaned even louder as he sped up the movements of his tongue.

Within bare seconds, you came with a cry and a shudder. Unable to hold back, you let go, shutting your eyes to ride out your orgasm.

Involuntarily, you were grinding up on him, your hips lifting off the bed, toes curling.

‘That was quick’ Cillian chuckled after you came down from your high and before giving your inner thigh another quick kiss.

‘I am sorry, I don’t know what just happened’ you said somewhat embarrassed as you never had orgasmed before when being with someone else. In fact, you never even gotten close to climaxing when someone else pleasured you orally.

‘Don’t ever be sorry’ Cillian said, kissing you gently before sitting back again and reaching for the bedside table draw to his right.

You couldn’t wait to feel him inside of you and, shamelessly but also somewhat nervously, you watched him pull out a silver condom wrapper from the draw.

You bit your lip in anticipation was you watched him open the wrapper with his teeth before rolling the condom onto his hard shaft.

Cillian then leaned forward again, spreading your legs further apart with a nudge from his knees. He looked powerful above you, his body trained, stomach flat, waist trim, looking at you with such lust that you forgot for a moment that, just days ago, you were trying to forget all about him. He leaned down, kissing you, tasting you, making the heat spread all over your body as he slipped two of his fingers inside of you, curving inward.

‘Still so sensitive’ he chuckled while you gasped at the sensation.

‘Cillian, please’ you begged. But he didn't seem to hear you and put pressure down, jerking his hand and thrusting his fingers right against your previously unexplored g-spot.

‘Oh my fucking god, no no no’ you cried out, bucking your hips again almost instantly, this time squirting right into his hand. Tears slipped from the corners of your eyes, your pussy still clenching on his fingers, desperate and needy.

‘Cillian, oh fuck’ you whimpered, not realising that you left a wet puddle on the sheets.

‘Wow’ Cillian grinned. He looked pretty pleased with himself as you sat up somewhat shocked, which is when you noticed what had just happened.

‘Oh my god. This is so fucking embarrassing’ you said when you noticed that you squirted for the first time.

‘Shh, it's okay’ Cillian murmured, calming you down and kissing you.

‘In fact, I think its fucking sexy and I hope I can make you do this again’ he smirked before guiding your back onto the mattress again.

‘I think you might’ you chuckled as you held out your arms and he melted into them, supporting himself with his arms.

‘I want to feel you so badly Cillian’ you moaned as his cock finally slid between your legs, making you squirm and buck your hips.

‘Patience’ Cillian said softly, and planted a kiss on the tip of your nose.

‘How can you restrain yourself?’ you asked, surprising you both.

Cillian raised an eyebrow, impossibly amused.

‘I’ve been restraining myself from wanting this for weeks’ Cillian said, and pressed his lips to your neck, kissing, nipping, biting and sucking. You closed your eyes, toes curling again, and gave into the pleasure. You did your best to wrap your legs around him, and he began to grind his cock down between your legs, right along the slit of your wet pussy.

When he finally entered you, you both let out a hiss of satisfaction, clutching at one another. The friction slow, drawn out, was enough to numb your mind. Your fingers dug into his back, his hands gripped the sheets, and he made love to you, driving inside of you with careful, deliberate movements.

‘Cillian’ you moaned as you felt him thrust in and out of you over and over again. But, hearing his groans and moans was exciting you just as much as the pleasure he gave you with his cock.

Cillian and you adjusted, getting familiar with one another, your bodies moving in slow grinds as he snapped his hips, making you shift yours off the bed. His pace quickened, and so did your breathing, and in one swift motion, you were a shuddering mess, feeling his cock hit that spot again, making you shatter.

At this point, Cillian was relentless, pounding into you, making you cry out in pleasure. You gripped his shoulders, fingernails leaving crescent marks behind, little slivers of moons, leaving your mark. He was yours and you were his.

You writhed under him, your pussy clenching around his thickness. His hands visibly shook, his breath wild as he moved in you, kissing you almost roughly, smashing his lips against yours, and in seconds, his tongue was sliding against yours as you tasted each other.

You anticipated each movement, feeling the bulge of his cock hard inside of you, filling you. Just when you thought you would come again, he withdrew and helped you to your knees, and when he entered you from behind, it was a whole other experience. He was deeper, and you seemed to drift together. You could smell his spicy aftershave, could smell your coupling in the air, thick and hazy, making you dizzy with desire.

Your bones seemed to ache from the feeling of his stomach muscles clenching hard against your back as he rutted into you. You pushed your ass back against his cock, and you found your rhythm, bodies slapping, panting and grunting in the dim light of his bedroom.

He was thrusting into you and with each passing second, you came closer and closer. You were whimpering, your entire body a mess of tightened muscles. An all-encompassing moan left your lips as his fingers found your clit, and as he rubbed, circling it, you came again, hard and fast.

Blinding gratification. Earth-shattering spasms. A delicious high, an overdose of emotions your body began to shake and your walls began to contract tightly around his thrusting cock.

‘Fuck Y/N’ Cillian groaned into your ear as he reached his high shortly after you did and you could feel his cock jerking inside of you.

His name was on your lips, but you couldn't say it; you couldn't say anything. You could feel every pulse inside of you, could feel every grunt and groan slip underneath your skin, could feel his taut muscles flush against your body. This wasn't just sex. It was heaven.

Just as you both finally came down from your high and while Cillian was kissing the back of your neck gently, he carefully pulled out of you and, just as he did, you could hear him swear.

‘Fuck’ he said in a trance as he pulled back, away from your body.

‘What is it?’ you asked and turned around immediately, looking down, noticing his cum leaking from you and down your inner thigh.

Tag List (Cillian):

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang @0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney @missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @chocolatehalo @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15

Cannot Tag (please check your settings):

@l0tsofpennies @trolleydolly @avonlady1985 @chrisevanshoeee @daydreamingnymph @fookingshelby

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy imagine

190 notes · View notes

seriouslysnape · 4 years ago

Text

Picture Perfect

Draco Malfoy x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Sexual implications (a lottttt of them)

A/N: I might do a part two to this...

Word Count: 1,635

“Like them? I love them.”

You watched with anticipation as Draco popped another one of the Bertie Botts Flavour Beans into his mouth. His sculpted jaw moved up and down as he chewed. His eyes suddenly shut tightly and his face contorted into disgust. You leaned forward a tad, curious to see what mystery flavor he had picked. He swallowed hard and coughed at the foul taste.

“Soap.” He sputtered, reaching for the glass of water on his bedside table.

You bursted into laughter, laughing even harder at the way he brought a hand to his chest as the taste dissipated from his tongue. He grinned at you from over the rim of his glass, taking another sip.

“Your turn.” He said.

This was a game of sorts that you and Draco liked to play whenever the two of you made a trip to Hogsmeade. Honeydukes Sweets Shop was your absolute favorite place to go and make pleasurable purchases. There were endless rows of candies and other tooth rotting snacks that were your ultimate guilty pleasure.

You were always sure to snag a new box of Bertie Botts Flavour Beans. You and Draco would sit in his private, prefect room and take turns selecting a bean and seeing which flavor you were bestowed with. You were snug in one of his Quidditch jumpers, your legs wrapped around his waist while the two of you sat on his bed.

Draco was always less fortunate than you during this game.

You took a bean into your hand, taking a breath when you put it in your mouth. Your tense shoulders relaxed when you started chewing. A delicious, fruity taste flooded your tastebuds, a cheeky grin appearing on your face. Draco threw his head back in exasperation at the sight of you getting yet another good flavor.

“Again?” He asked.

You nodded.

“Cherry.” You smiled, swallowing the small candy.

Draco’s blonde eyebrows raised, a devious look crossing over his face. His hands rested on your thighs that were secured around him, leaning forward.

“Mmm. Do you mind sharing?” He smirked.

You hummed affirmatively, capturing his lips in a hot kiss. His tongue danced with yours, tasting your familiarity and the traces of cherry candy. His hands went to the side of your neck to bring you closer, while you gripped at the collar of his sweater. His kisses muffled your girly giggles, a chuckle vibrating out from his own chest.

You tapped his shoulder to pause your make out session, a mumble of realization sounding out from your throat. He whined when you stopped kissing him, but based on the bright look on your face, you had something in mind.

“I have something for you.” You announced in a playful way.

His gray eyes darkened a touch, his fingertips drumming on the skin of your leg.

“Is that so?” He questioned, making guesses already in his head.

You were giddy with joy as you scrambled from his array of blankets and his comforter. You reached into your backpack, pulling out a solid black book with a red bow on it. It was a rather large book, about the size of his Care of Magical Creatures textbook. Draco felt a quick surge of panic. He was the worst about remembering holidays and birthdays, and he instantly thought that maybe he had forgotten something special.

“Don’t get mad if I have, but...did I miss something?” He asked.

You let out a snicker as you rejoined him on the bed. Ever since he had forgotten your birthday a few months ago, now he was always afraid he was going to miss something else.

“You haven’t. This is just something I’ve been working on.” You bubbled up gleefully.

You set the book on his lap, watching as his eyes raked over the cover. He felt a warmth in his chest at being given a gift just because you cared. He pushed the bow off of the sides of the book, opening the cover to see a little note you had written for him, signed at the end with your name and everything. The thick pages indicated to him that it was a picture album.

He turned to the first page, an unmistakable smile of jubilation appeared on his face. The first two pages each had four Polaroid like pictures secured evenly. You were smiling happily in each of the first several photos, wearing different outfits and in different locations. Draco’s heart was beating with exuberance in his chest as he looked through the first couple of pages.

“Oh, darling. These are great,” He praised; “They’re positively stunning. They-”

His sentence was cut short when he got about halfway through the pages, his voice getting caught in his throat when the pictures immediately took on a new theme. His smile faded into a shocked, slight jaw drop. The second half of the book was filled with sultry, boudoir style photos. His fingertips trailed over one in particular where you were wearing your school robes, but the only thing you were wearing underneath was one of Draco’s Slytherin uniform ties settled between your breasts.

In other photos, you were wearing different sets of lingerie. There was one lacy, black colored set that almost made him faint right then and there.

He was knocked speechless, unable to string together a single sentence. You were beginning to feel a little self conscious, and even a bit embarrassed that maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. You had honestly expected him to completely attack you with feverish kisses or fuck you right then and there. The fact that he was completely silent was unsettling.

You fiddled with your hands in your lap, uncertainty in your tone as you spoke up to break the silence.

“I...do you like them?” You wondered, hoping to get a positive reaction.

Draco’s eyes never left the book. He turned to the next page, a rush of arousal flushing over him at one in particular where you were completely naked, stretched out on his bed and giving a look so seductive that it made Draco’s belly flutter. The sight of you naked on his bed...it was hot.

“Oh, baby. Darling, my love...” He breathed out, trying to complete at least one full thought; “Like them? I love them.” He almost growled.

You exhaled a breath of relief, feeling a sense of excitement as he continued to rake over them. He turned to a new set of pictures, a hot blush creeping onto his cheeks.

“You’re so stunning...so sexy.” He purred.

You laughed shyly, a bashful smile washing on your face. You rubbed his knee, your hand feeling like electricity on him. He couldn’t look away from the scandalous photos, each one becoming more dirty than the last. He was riled up and he was already looking forward to having this book at his disposal.

“Who took these?” He pondered, wondering which one of your lucky girl friends had the pleasure of seeing you actually model these outfits and strip down naked.

You just had to take advantage of this moment. You couldn’t help but mess with him just a little bit. You choked down the chuckle that would surely give you away.

“Potter.” You lied.

Draco’s head snapped up so fast and his eyes filled with an indescribable look of hot jealousy. He chest tightened, but relaxed when he realized you were kidding based off of your burst of laughter. He sighed harshly and rubbed his forehead as you laughed at his intense reaction. The thought of you asking Harry Potter to take these photos for you filled him with such a rage, but he even laughed it off when he knew you were joking.

“That’s not funny.” He said pointing a finger at you, and continuing to go through the photos.

Your giggles died off, and you answered him honestly.

“Pansy took them. That’s how I was able to sneak in here when you weren’t here.” You explained.

Draco nodded, his jaw still slightly ajar as he loomed over them. You patiently waited as he finished looking through them, his pupils dilating more and more by the minute. He closed the book once he was finished, his eyes finally flickering up to you. He had grown a very prevalent erection, and his eyes were filled with an intense amount of lust. You knew one thing for sure.

He was going to rock your world tonight.

Over the last year or so of dating you, he tried not to be so aggressive when it came to your sex life. He tried not to pounce on you every time he felt turned on. He knew that sex was supposed to be the ultimate romantic connection, and not always supposed to be rushed. After those pictures though, he wanted you BAD. You could tell he was antsy, waiting (and also praying) for you to give him the okay.

You leaned in, your lips just barely brushing over his, before you brought your lips to his ear. You purposely let out a wanton moan in his ear, a tantalizing sound to your voice.

“Touch me, Draco. I know you want me.”

In a millisecond, Draco was on you. He kissed you roughly and pushed you down onto his mattress. He kept your hands pinned above your head, leaving open mouthed kisses on your neck as he intentionally drew the most wonderful sounds out of you.

“What are the chances of you wearing one of those hot little outfits under this jumper?” He said in a steamy voice.

You squirmed against his hands, but to no avail. You rolled your hips into his, trying to create some friction. You threw him a wink, your response sending him into full fuck mode.

“Why don’t you find out?”

#draco #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy x female reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy smut #harry potter draco #harry potter #seriouslysnape

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americasass81 · 4 years ago

Text

I Know What You Need

Warnings:- Smut, Aftercare, Fluff, Spanking, Mild Degradation, Use of Pet Names, Edging. 18+ only. Do not read if any of these warnings are upsetting. Feedback is welcomed.

By proceeding you are acknowledging that you are over 18 and are consenting to the content below the cut.

A/N:- This was written especially for @syntheticavenger who sparked the idea after posting the remark pictured below. This is my first time writing for Andy and I hope I pulled it off. As for you Synth, I really hope this hits the spot🤣😉.

Pairing:- soft-ish!Andy Barber x Female Reader

Word Count:- 2,137

He knew you didn't mean it. Life in general often brought you a little down, but now the current state of things, coupled with your present inebriated condition and this was bound to happen. But you both knew it couldn't go unchecked. Meeting Andy at a mixer when his firm was hired to do some work with your legal department, you immediately hit it off over your shared love of football. Having finally left his painful past behind him, Andy hadn't really been looking for anything new, but something about you drew him in.

Almost six months constantly bumping into each other around the office and sparks were definitely starting to fly. Andy loved how forceful and bossy you could be when working, how focused during the few presentations he had witnessed, mirrored with how free and animated you got when the two of you would frequent the canteen to discuss whatever football match you both had last seen and it quickly dawned on him that you were something special.

Realizing that his world seemed a whole lot brighter with you in it, he didn't waste much time when the contract between your two firms neared completion. Three days before it ended, he cornered you in one of the many conference rooms and asked if you would be interested in joining him for dinner. Informing him that his offer might be considered if he knew any place that served both good wine and pasta, he smirked knowingly before walking away leaving you to wonder if you had seen the last of him.

Twenty-four hours later and there you were, sitting in Andy's car on your way to who knows where. Eventually pulling up to what looked like an old run down warehouse, Andy gracefully led you inside where a beautiful miniature park, complete with skylight, water feature and seating area took your breath away. "Impressed?" he questioned, and looking around all you thought was there was no way pasta was on the menu. Still, ever the polite young person you were raised to be, you looked around a few minutes before speaking.

"Yeah, it's definitely beautiful here. How did you find it?"

"Came across this place a little over a year and a half ago. Been working on it here and there ever since." he said, walking you towards the seating area. Sitting you down with a wide grin on his handsome face, he then reached behind the bench wall and pulled forth two specially insulated bags. "It even comes complete with dining services." he added as he opened up the bigger bag and produced two gloriously hot pasta dishes. Taking in the wonderful smell, he then brought out the wine and two glasses from the smaller bag and you had to admit, he may actually have brought you to heaven.

Eating the delicious meal, amid the beautiful surroundings and wonderful company, you thought your night couldn't possibly get any better until Andy suggested taking you on a night time drive through the city before dropping you home. Doing all you could not to jump his bones right there, you held your composure and smiled gratefully at him before accepting.

Now here you were, three months after that glorious night and countless dates in between, firmly back in the present with an irate boyfriend, a belly full of wine and a mouth determined to do nothing but dig you a deeper hole. " 'm not sryy." you slurred out as Andy rolled up his sleeves and shoved you face first into the couch before placing your body securely across his thick thighs.

"No honey?" he questioned, running his hands along your ass and thighs while squeezing hard every so often, "well let me see what I can do about that," and with that the sound of fabric tearing reached your ears as your panties were ripped from you. Knowing now that you were in trouble by the use of 'honey' and the discarded panties, a shiver worked its way up your spine as Andy lowered his upper body along your back to rest his lips against your ear. "Care to tell me what got us here, huh?" and no response from you was rewarded with a loud slap against your now exposed ass.

Crying out, his hand then massaged the soft flesh as he waited for you to finally answer. "Screamed at you for not being here when I got home."

"Right, but my meeting was on the calendar for a month. Could it be something else is going on?" and when you just flipped him the finger, he swiftly brought your hands behind your back and rained down four blows on each cheek and both your thighs. Trying to stifle the sounds that were a mix between a shriek and a moan, he wormed his fingers between your folds and tutted loudly when his fingers came away wet.

"Look at this honey," he mocked, moving his fingers in front of your face before stuffing them into your mouth. Leaving them there until you got the message, he bent forward once more as you licked the moisture from them. "That's it honey, clean them good. Oh my word, look at you, filthy little thing trying to get herself off while I'm here teaching you some manners." he sneered as he stilled your movements with a bit more pressure on your lower back.

"Andy baby, please?" you begged, removing your mouth from his fingers and turning your head to face him. Looking at your tear streaked face he might have taken pity on you, but something told him in this moment, this was what you needed.

"Don't 'Andy baby' me, honey, you brought this on yourself. Tell me what's really going on. Now." he demanded, and you knew from his tone not answering would have you sore for a week.

"Work was bad." you finally admitted, feeling a bit of relief just saying those three little words. "Everything that could go wrong, did go wrong and I guess I just lost it."

"Yeah, and the wine didn't help either. How many times have I told you drinking is not the answer?" he asked and once more your answer was cut off as his hand made contact with your ass. "You're going to count for me honey and maybe, just maybe, I might go easy on you," and with that you moaned out the numbers one to ten as Andy's hand made contact with your nether regions over and over again.

Finally satisfied, Andy released you and sitting you on his lap, wiped your tears as a pout formed on your lips. "Aw what's the matter now honey? Did I stop before my girl got to come? Here let me help you out." he smirked as he moved his hand down to your now swollen and sensitive folds. Moving his fingers up and down along your slit, he alternated between delving into your warm heat and circling your throbbing clit. Keeping your tender ass firmly nestled against his growing erection so you couldn't move, he worked you up so good that just when your body finally began to sing . . . the music stopped.

Turning your head once more to look at him, he simply winked at you and licked his fingers clean as your brain realized what he had in store. Kissing you fiercely to stifle your protests, he allowed your body to cool off before starting his ministrations all over again. Five more times of this treatment, and you actually apologized for your behavior as your legs kicked out at nothing in a desperate attempt just to do something.

At last taking pity on you, or perhaps himself, he got up, tossed you on the couch and ripped your top clean down the middle. Ignoring your complaints, he then added to the humiliation by forcing your tits out of your bra and slapping each one repeatedly as his other hand began freeing his cock from the confines of his pants. Gazing down on his hard and impressive length, he gave you a moment to enjoy the view, before taking his shaft and slotting it into your waiting pussy in one powerful thrust.

Moaning out at the warm, grasping feeling of your tight, wet walls, he set up a punishing rhythm as his powerful hips pounded into your sore ass. Telling you over and over again how wet and welcoming your pussy was, it didn't long for the tension he had built up in your body to finally snap and you came with a shriek as a powerful orgasm ripped through you. Slapping your tits once again as his cock and hips continued to guide you through your high, you knew he had no intention of letting you down as the pressure started building once again.

Pleading with him to slow down, he took your words as a challenge and sucking hard enough on both breasts that you knew you would still feel it tomorrow, he thrust a few more times before bringing his fingers to your clit and squeezing hard. Screaming loudly and arching your back as you came hard around him for the second time, he pulled out just in time and sprayed his seed all over your exposed chest.

Laying his forehead against yours while kissing you tenderly and rubbing his cum into your skin, he waited patiently until your breathing returned to normal before speaking. "Feeling better sweetheart?" and the change of pet name told you that all was as it should be and your punishment was over.

"Yeah." you answered slowly, finally sounding like yourself again. "Thank you. Sometimes I just ne . . ."

"Need to not be in charge all the time." he finished for you, before continuing. "I know sweetheart and you know I'm always here for you, no questions, no judgements. But maybe next time lower the volume a bit, my ears are still ringing." he laughed and you couldn't help but break into laughter along with him.

Then picking you up and carrying you upstairs before placing you on the seat at the end of the bed, he headed off into the bathroom where the sound of running water told you a bath was now in the offering. Returning swiftly, he helped both of you out of your clothes, though his were still intact, and then ducking back into the bathroom, turned off the taps before coming back, scooping you up and lowering both of you into the warm, refreshing bubble bath.

While the water stung a little at first as it kissed your tender flesh, bringing his massive legs together provided the perfect cushion for you to rest on. Sinking back against his powerful chest, you slowly felt all the remaining stresses and cares of the day slip further away as Andy's talented fingers and the warm water worked together to ease every knot he could find.

Having worked you over so good that you felt like putty, Andy then washed you lovingly before removing both of you from the bath and wrapping you in one of the fluffiest towels you swore had ever touched your delicate skin. Drying you gently but thoroughly, Andy then disappeared momentarily only to return a few minutes later to lift you up, carry you back to the bedroom and dump you face first onto another towel stretched across the bed. Telling you not to move, you rested your head on your hands but turned back towards him slightly when you heard the pop of a bottle.

Kneeling on the bed beside you, the contents hitting you directly on your lower back told you that Andy was about to give you one of his glorious full body massages. Though the only one you had so far received was on your birthday, two months ago, the memory still lingered in your muscles and soon he had you purring like a pussy as his lotion covered hands kneaded every inch of skin they could find. Drifting off slowly towards paradise, the next time you opened your eyes found you clothed and wrapped in Andy's arms in the middle of your bed in time to watch the night's football match.

Glancing lovingly at the one man who not only knew what you needed but how and when you needed it, you were about to ask him where your match-time snack was when he reached towards the bedside table and produced your favorite grapes. "Come on now sweetheart, you didn't think I'd forget these?" he asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Grabbing the grapes from him while placing a tender kiss against his lips, you popped one in your mouth and smiled at him cheekily before snuggling into his warm embrace just in time for the start of the game.

Tagging: @syntheticavenger @nsfwsebbie @hoseokchild @gotnofucks

#soft-ish!Andy Barber x Female Reader

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homoose · 4 years ago

Text

Love Has a Learning Curve: epilogue (reader)

Summary: An early morning, a doctor’s appointment, a new beginning.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: pregnancy (including like… probably incorrect math and science but my degree was in English and this is fanfiction okay)

Word count: 2.7k

a/n: I’m actually so emotional don’t look at me thanks ♥️

Series Masterlist

———

The sound of Spencer’s ringtone pierced through the early morning quiet, shrill and disconsolate. Y/N hummed against his chest, shifting as he clumsily reached across to the bedside table to answer it.

“Hey,” he croaked, voice still smothered in sleep. “Mm... When?” He paused, and she could almost make out the answer on the other end. “Got it. Yeah.”

He carefully set the phone back on the bedside table, and then his arms came around her shoulders. He let out a long sigh, the one she’d gotten quite used to over the last year and a half— the one that meant he had to go. She squeezed him around the middle and let out her own sigh. “Case?”

“Yeah.” He ran light fingers down her arm. “Jet’s taking off in ninety minutes.”

She glanced at the bedside table to the alarm clock that read 4:57am. They both knew he needed to leave within the next half hour if he was going to make it on time, but neither one made any effort to move. Instead, they breathed together in the pre-dawn stillness— a single moment of peace before the world and all its ugliness could crash through the fortress they’d constructed around their space and around each other.

“I don’t wanna go,” he whispered.

“I know.” She pressed a kiss over his heart through his t-shirt. “I know.”

“I’m gonna miss everything,” he lamented. “Appointments, and milestones, and firsts, and I— I’m gonna miss all of it.”

She lifted her head at the tears in his voice. “Hey.” She shifted in the circle of his arms to prop herself up on his chest. “You’re not gonna miss all of it. You’ll miss this one appointment. And it’s— it’s not even an important one,” she assured, gentle fingers swiping away the lone tear that had managed to escape over his lash line.

“Yes, it is.” He shook his head. “They're all important.”

She gave him a sympathetic smile, leaning forward to press a quick peck to his lips before sitting up and deciding to reassure him in the only way she knew how. “Okay, doctor. Eleven weeks. Tell me what we’re gonna find out today.”

She pulled him up out of bed, interlacing their fingers and pressing their shoulders together. As she led him to the bathroom, he explained, “Dr. Layton will do the first ultrasound, and Baby will look more like a baby now. At around ten weeks they made the transition from embryo to fetus. They’ll be about two inches long.”

She handed him his toothbrush and turned to grab his toiletry go-back from the linen closet, stifling a yawn. “Mmhm. What else?”

“Did you know they’re breathing now?” he asked, and she smiled at the way the excitement crept into his voice. “Between weeks ten and eleven, the fetus starts to inhale and exhale small amounts of amniotic fluid, which aids in the development of their lungs. It’s kind of like they’re breathing underwater.”

“I didn’t know that,” she admitted, turning back to set the bag on the counter. “That’s pretty amazing. What about the heartbeat?”

He nodded vigorously as he applied toothpaste to the bristles of his brush. “We should be able to hear it, although sometimes it’s too early— depending on the accuracy of the estimated date of conception.”

He ran the water over the toothbrush before popping it into his mouth. She kissed his shoulder and then moved back into the bedroom, shuffling into their closet for his go bag. She checked it over on her way back to the bathroom, ensuring it had been fully repacked after the last case. She set it on the counter and placed his toiletry bag inside, leaving it open for him to pack his toothbrush and then sitting on the closed toilet lid.

He rinsed his mouth and put his travel cap over the head of his toothbrush, gesturing with it and then dropping it into the bag. “They’ll do some routine lab work to test for things like gestational diabetes, and we can also choose to do additional screeners for chromosomal abnormalities and possible complications.” He looked at her then, and she saw the despondence creeping back in. “I should really be there, just— just in case.”

“Honey.” She stood and held out her hand to him, smiling a little when he accepted it with a squeeze. “It’s gonna be okay.”

He let out a breath and pulled her into his arms, and they held each other in the silence, the soft light from the vanity washing over them. His phone buzzed with an incoming message, and she knew he needed to get on the road. Still, she held him for a second longer, and then they shuffled through the door and into the bedroom together.

Y/N made her way back to bed, scooting down under the duvet to preserve the last remaining notes of his body warmth. She watched as he dressed silently, pulling on trousers, socks, a button up and cardigan. He skipped the tie in favor of coming to sit on the bed, bringing his hand to rest lightly over top of her belly over the covers.

She covered his hand with her own and laced their fingers together. “Maybe you could ask Luke if you can FaceTime with his phone. You can probably take twenty minutes, right?”

He nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” He rubbed a tired hand over his face. “Maybe I should just upgrade my own phone.”

She huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I see how it is. Couldn’t upgrade for me, but once a baby comes along you’re ready for an iPhone.”

“That’s not— you— you shouldn’t have to do all of this alone,” he huffed, and she realized her joke didn’t land when his voice cracked at the end.

“Spence, I’m— I’m just teasing.” She lifted her hands to his face, pulling him closer and meeting his eyes. “I’m sorry; you’re upset, and that wasn’t nice.”

She leaned up to kiss his forehead, letting her lips linger and breathing him in. “But I’m not alone. With you, I feel— the opposite of alone.”

“Irritated?” he offered.

“No,” she laughed. “Supported, and cared for, and loved,” she corrected with a smile. “You’ve been all of that since day one. And I know that’s not going to change, whether you’re physically present in that doctor's office or not. Right?”

When he nodded, she continued, “I love you. The most. And you are easily the best baby daddy on planet earth. Okay?”

The term of endearment dragged a smile from him, as it always did. “Okay.”

She leaned forward to press her lips to his, both sets upturned and a little dry from sleep. “Now, you need to go, or you’re gonna be late.”

“I know.” He kissed her again, long and slow, and then pulled back to lean their foreheads together. He hesitated for another ten seconds before standing to grab his bag from the bathroom.

When he re-emerged, she reminded him, “Ask Luke about the FaceTime thing. I’m sure he won’t mind, and we can trust him to keep the secret. The appointment technically starts at 1:00, but I probably won’t be seen until at least 1:30.”

He crossed to give her another kiss. “I love you.” He crouched to press a kiss to her tummy. “And you.”

“We love you, too,” she smiled, fingers tangling in his curls. “And we’ll talk to you in a few hours.”

She kissed him one more time— couldn’t help herself. And then his warmth was gone from the bed, and the house was suddenly much too quiet. She snuggled back down under the duvet, her head on his pillow and the scent of his shampoo shrouding her senses and easing her mind.

Spencer really was supportive— endlessly so. Not overbearing, but interested and involved in every moment: reading all the newest research, bringing home her favorite treats, writing out a color-coded timeline of all the appointments and milestones. She wasn’t lying when she called him the best baby daddy. He was always there for her. So much so that the apprehension she’d had at the beginning of this surprise journey was nowhere to be found.

As she drifted back into sleep, there he was again— she could almost hear the jangling of his keys in the bowl in the entryway, his feet on the stairs, the rustling of his pants and sweater being discarded onto the floor of their bedroom.

And then she felt the warmth of his palm low over her tummy, coming to rest over the barely-there bump. She felt his lips on her shoulder and his chest pressed against her back. When she went to cover his hand with her own, her exhausted brain registered that it wasn’t a dream at all.

She turned her head, blinking her eyes open to see him smiling at her and drew her brows together. “What’s going on?”

He pressed another kiss to her shoulder, snuggling even closer and rubbing his thumb along her belly. “I’m, um— I told Emily I’m gonna consult from home on this one.”

…

“Okay, Mom, this’ll just be a little bit cold.”

Dr. Layton smoothed the gel over Y/N’s lower abdomen, and Spencer moved to thread their fingers together, shifting to stand even closer to the examination table. The ultrasound machine gave off a low hum as the doctor adjusted the wand over her tummy. She felt Spencer press a kiss to her temple and turned to smile brightly at him before turning back to the black and white screen.

At her first appointment five weeks ago, she’d been by herself— alone and uncertain and terrified— and she’d declined the option of the ultrasound. It felt wrong to see the baby before Spencer even knew about them. Now, together with him, with her soon-to-be husband— she was more than ready to see their baby for the first time. And she could practically feel Spencer’s excitement next to her, his body nearly vibrating with it.

“Ah, here they are. Hello, Baby Reid.” Dr. Layton pointed to a small, white figure on the screen. “Okay, right here, you can see their big ol’ head— perfectly normal size for this stage of development,” she assured, eyes deftly scanning the image in front of her. “Everything looks great! Now, I’m just trying to find…”

She adjusted the wand over Y/N’s tummy, and suddenly a wub wub wub came over the tinny speaker of the machine. “There we are,” Dr. Layton smiled. “Very strong heartbeat.”

Spencer squeezed Y/N’s hand, and she felt the drop of a tear on her shoulder. She brought her other hand over to cover their tangled fingers, rubbing her thumb along the skin of his wrist and kissing his arm.

Dr. Layton made a slightly perplexed humming sound, moving the wand again and losing the sound of the heartbeat, only to pick it up again— this time slightly faster. Y/N’s own heart stuttered a little as the doctor moved the wand again twice more, and then cleared her throat. “Is something— is everything okay?”

She turned to Y/N with a kind smile. “Yes, yes,” she confirmed, and then she raised her eyebrows. “Just— do you hear the difference?”

Spencer tilted his head in consideration, drawing his brows together and straining to hear. The doctor shifted the wand once more, allowing them to hear the two distinct patterns.

Two distinct patterns, Y/N realized.

Dr. Layton pressed the wand a little more firmly into her abdomen, moved it just slightly. “Those are two different heartbeats.” She pointed to the screen. “And those are two different babies. There’s a matching set of Baby Reids in there.”

Y/N couldn’t stop her jaw from dropping. “Is there—” She turned to Spencer incredulously. “Do twins run in your family?”

He shook his head silently, eyes wide. “Yours?”

“Nope,” she squeaked.

“This obviously changes things slightly,” Dr. Layton explained, cleaning up the residual gel. “I’d like to see you every three weeks rather than every four. Then at twenty eight weeks, we’ll see how we feel, okay?”

She smiled gently as Y/N and Spencer nodded dumbly. She removed her gloves and stood. “I’m going to give you two a few minutes. I’ll be back with your photos in a bit, and we can talk about any questions you might have.”

The door closed behind her, and the room was bathed in silence. Y/N sat up carefully and swung her legs over the side of the examination table. She looked down at her tiny, unassuming bump and felt a tear slip over her lashes.

“Are you— are you okay?” Spencer whispered.

She brought her gaze to his, found them teeming with barely restrained joy and yet the ever-present worry. “Well,” she started. “I, um— I always imagined two kids.” She brought her hands up to her sweaty cheeks and held her own face between her palms. “I guess this is— you know— just a quicker way to get there.”

Spencer immediately wrapped her in a hug, pressing kisses over her hair, her forehead, her shocked mouth. “Two babies. We’re having two babies.”

“Twins, Spence,” she breathed. “Twins.”

He replaced her hands with his own, cradling her face and kissing her sweetly, sighing all of his joy and adoration into her mouth. “I love you. So much. The most.” He lowered himself to press his lips to her belly. “All of you.”

She used gentle hands in his hair to tilt his face up, meeting his smile with a watery one of her own. “We love you, too, baby daddy.”

She could see the gears turning as he stood, his hands coming to rest on her hips. “About that.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Yes?”

“Do you, um— how difficult do you think it would be to get everyone together this weekend?”

She paused. “You wanna get married this weekend?”

“Yeah, that’s probably too soon, huh?” He huffed out a sigh, then his eyebrows shot up. “Oh, what about next weekend?”

“That’s just as soon!” she laughed.

He furrowed his brow. “No, it’s not. There's a seven day difference.”

“You’re really in a rush, huh?” she teased.

“Well. I just— I figure you should really be on my insurance anyway,” he reasoned. “Especially now that it’s— now that it’s twins.”

“Mm, yes, I’m sure that’s the reason,” she grinned.

He let out a long breath, and she watched his eyes journey over her face— memorizing every curve and angle, every new wrinkle, every last inch of her. And she knew the reason.

“I know it’s just a piece of paper,” he murmured. “It doesn’t really change anything, but…” He used gentle fingers to brush her hair back from her face. “I just… really want to be your husband.”

She took her own minute to memorize the way he looked in this moment: her fiancé, the father of her children, the best man she’d ever known, the absolute love of her life. And she knew her own reason.

“The paper might not change anything,” she agreed. “But— you’ve changed everything.”

He squeezed her hips. “In a good way I hope.”

“The best way.” She brought her hands to his face, rubbing her thumbs along his cheeks. “The best way.”

He closed the distance between them to kiss her with all the honey and magic and reverence he always did. He broke away to lean his forehead against hers with all the warmth and devotion and love he always did. She sighed, and it was all joy and vulnerability and contentment like it always was. And she knew their reasons.

She kissed him again, and then murmured against his lips, “You know I’m still gonna refer to you as baby daddy, right?”

The laugh erupted from his chest and wrapped itself around her heart, tying tight and secure— a shield, and a haven, and a refuge— keeping her safe from every terrible thing.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

…

O no! Love is an ever-fixed mark

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.

- William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116

———

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#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x you #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds self insert #homoose writes #lhalc

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hereformcdonaldshonestly · 4 years ago

Text

This is going to be so CUTEEE!!

Fluff💖

Their Favorite Memory With You

Character x !fem reader, everyone (you and the characters) are aged up!!

(h/c)= hair color, (l/n)= last name

Tenya Iida-

Tenya's favorite memory with you was your guy's wedding day. You and Tenya were inseparable, ever since you two got together in U.A. You two have been together since you both were around 15 and 16 years old, you're currently 24 and 25. It was always known that you guys were probably going to get married, which you always loved the idea of.

It was spring, your wedding day was quickly approaching. The cherry blossom leaves were falling, all different shades of pink and white. It was warm but not too hot, everything was perfect. The beautiful forest behind the venue, there were white benches and the front had this wonderful rock half-wall. The wedding was started, Tenya was at the front with his hands by his side, his brother Tensei as the best man standing next to him. Everyone was seated and waiting, then the melody started playing. It was being played by a piano, and it sounded beautiful. Everyone stood up, then he saw you. He could feel his heart stop, you were wearing a white wedding dress, a ball gown silhouette, and lace towards the bottom. Tenya had a wide smile, he could feel his heart race. Your (h/c) hair was pulled up into a tight bun, with a long veil with lace.

You got to the altar, and the ceremony went on. As it went on, you would sniffle every now and then and you would hear him choke up some. Whenever it got to vows, you almost broke. "Tenya, I'm so glad that I can marry you and spend every day with you. Whenever we first met I didn't realize how much I would love you, but now I know I wouldn't trade this for anything in the world. I love you so much and I'm so happy that I can be your wife." You say, tearing up with joy. "(y/n), you motivate me so much to become a better person and hero. I'm so happy to have you in my life, and even happier I get to marry you. You're the love of my life." He said, wiping away a quick tear. Then it finally got to the end, you said your "I do"'s and you were officially married. Whenever you heard "you may kiss the bride!" Tenya immediately grabbed you and kissed you.

Katsuki Bakguou-

His favorite memory would have to be bringing home your first child. Whenever you and Katsuki first moved in together, you never imagined getting married and let alone having a child together. You guys were around 26 and 28, Katsuki being older, and were engaged.

Then you found out you were pregnant, Katsuki was excited but scared. With him being a pro hero he knew that it would be a bit tougher, but honestly, the pregnancy was a breeze, well kind of. Of course, there was the morning sickness, the swollen feet, but you wouldn't trade it for anything. 9 months passed and your sweet baby girl was here, she looked like a mixture of you and him but his genes definitely showed up more. She has a lot of his facial features, his classic red eyes, but had your (h/c) hair and nose. The day you brought Hazuki, meaning leaf and moon, home you both were a nervous wreck. "Babe you can move a bit faster than that." You say laughing, your fiance was currently moving like a sloth, trying not to wake her up. He rolls his eyes and starts going towards her nursery. It was decorated with blush pink curtains, a white crib with a cute flower baby blanket hanging on the side, and her name above the crib. You were making some hot tea, to help with your headache and body aches, and you overheard Katsuki.

"This is your crib, your mom worked really hard to paint it. I know it's a boring color, I suggested something close to explosions but we made a comprise." You smile, he was talking to Hazuki. "Daddy loves you so much, and any boy, or girl, or anyone in general, tries to pick on you or mess with you, I'll kick their butts." You giggled and walk in there, he was rocking her slowly back and forth. "Babe? Put her in the crib so she can sleep, you can talk about kicking butt later." You say while smiling, he frowned, "dumbas- I mean dumb butt, were you listening?" You nod and kiss him. "You're already an amazing father Bakugou." He smiled, like one of those really big smiles full of joy and not destruction. "She's going to beat every kid, and she's going to have an amazing quirk!" He exclaims, you quickly shush him, as Hazuki started to coo slightly. "Now come on, let's go get some lunch and sleep while we can." You say whispering, and giggling a bit. He nods and puts her into her crib gently, and follows you into the living room.

Shoto Todoroki-

Shoto's favorite of you two was definitely when you two first met. It was around 5 years ago, you were at a coffee shop ordering a hot cup of coffee. It was winter, there was white, fluffy snow everywhere. "Here you go ma'am, have a good day." The barista says, you smile and nod, taking your coffee.

You pulled out your buzzing phone, it was your mother calling. She found this puppy in her old neighborhood so she's been updating you all about it. You sigh and start typing, when you do, you run into something. You and the man flew back, coffee went everywhere, and you landed on the floor. Before you look up at see him, you're already apologizing. "I'm so sorry! I should of been paying attention!" You exclaim, embarrassed about not paying attention. You can hear a slight chuckle and see him extend his hand out. You grab it and stand up, you look at him and focus on all of his features. He had half white and half red hair, one brown eye and one icy blue eye, and a big scar on his cheek. You frown, "I'm sorry seriously, I should of been paying attention." You say as you look at his shirt, you gasp. His shirt, his poor white shirt got ruined. "No it's fine, I should of stopped and paid attention." He says, you sigh. "Can I at least buy you another shirt? Or pay for dry cleaning?" He laughs, "no, no it's fine. I have others at home." You laugh a bit and put your phone back into your purse.

"Can I treat you to another coffee?" You ask, trying to make it up. He pauses for a second, "you know what? Let's go get a hot tea, I know this tea shop." He doesn't even give you a second to answer and he starts to walking, you quickly following behind him. At that tea shop you both talked about your lives, you found out his name is Shoto Todoroki, you found out more about his quirk, and even found out he was a pro hero! "It was awesome talking to you Shoto," you say while holding out your hand, "hopefully we can hang out more!" You say with a smile. He smiles and shakes your hand. "Here let me give you my number, and then we can text each other at first." He starts writing his number down and gives it to you smiling, "maybe we can have another day like this." You nod, and from that day on you've been close! A week later you guy's actually went on a date to this restaurant downtown. Now five years later, you both are dating and living together in your cozy apartment. You also have a cat named Gizmo!

Denki Kamanari-

You are Denki have been together for around four years or so. His favorite memory has to be how he recently proposed! The day was hot and you were by the ocean. There was kids laughing, sand castles everywhere, and people surfing.

You and Denki were sitting by the ocean on a light blue beach towel. You were wearing a light green, wrap one piece swimsuit. "Babe come on! You have to go surfing at least once in your life!" He exclaims, you roll your eyes and laugh. "Calm down, calm down let me make sure our stuff doesn't get washed away." You say, standing up. "Hey babe, actually can you do something for me?" You turn around, looking at him. "Can you go and buy a cooler? I know I seen some in the gift shop." You looked at him confused, "a cooler?" He nods, "remember ours broke and plus we have drinks to keep cool!" You sigh and grab your beach bag, "fine, I'll be back." You say as you leave for the shop. As you went shopping, Denki set up and went through with his perfect idea. He has been planning on proposing to you, he even has the ring with him. He's been carrying it around for months trying to plan the best proposal ever. Denki wants everything perfect, just for you. He drew out the words "will you marry me (y/n)?" on the beach.

Whenever you got back, you were furious. "Cooler in the shop my ass, all they had was cringey shirts." You mumble to yourself. You saw his yellow hair and frowned, not seeing the words drawn in the sand. Before you took a step closer, Denki yells out "look at the ground!" It's obviously confused but you didn't really question it. "Huh?" You say while looking down, and then that's when you see it. Your eyes fill with tears of joy, and Denki comes up to you. He kneels down on one knee, holding up a ring. "Will you make me the happiest man and marry me (y/n)?" He asks, you nod your head yes. He smiles and puts the ring on your finger, standing up. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you." He says while you hug him tightly. That was the best day for you two, soon as you could and got to your phone, you told everyone.

I hope you liked this! It was so cute to make!

I hope you have a great day!

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ptergwen · 4 years ago

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can you do one with arvin x reader? maybe where arvin is in a relationship with her, but arvin's always been a bit reserved and not big on physical affection, so one day when arvin asks her for a kiss she's like "what is going on with you???" confused af but happy??

count on six fingers

w/c: 1.1k

warnings: slight descriptions of blood, implied smut, and swearing but duh

a/n: ooo i haven’t written for arvin in a while so i enjoyed this a lot :,)

arvin is a good guy. a really good guy, you just have to give him a chance to show you that. he’s always been quiet, observing people more than participating in their conversations. he usually isn’t interested in what they’re talking about, anyway. superficial shit that doesn’t matter.

you’d been the first friend he made in high school. he was alone most of the time, unless who you knew to be his sister was with him. arvin is a few years older and super protective of her. she’s always getting pushed around or name called, so he always stops it.

it was after a fight between him and some seniors that you properly met him. arvin was limping around the schoolyard with a bloody gash on his cheek. lenora waited in the car while he took care of her bullies. he got his message across, but ended up thrown face first into a fence, hence the cut. you’d seen the aftermath of him stumbling back to his feet.

he was about to get into his busted up car when you caught his attention.

“hey!” you called to arvin, making him stop in front of the driver’s door. you took that as your cue to walk over. he let go of the handle and looked at you over his shoulder. your face held concern and your hand held some tissues. “you’re bleeding,” you said softer, giving him the tissues. arvin took them with furrowed eyebrows.

“thank you...” he trailed off so you could insert your name. “y/n.” you offered a genuine smile. he’d never gotten too many of those. “y/n,” he repeated and blotted at his gash. “did you see all that, y/n?” “just the end. i would’ve rooted for you, though,” you tried to make him feel better. it seemed to work because he let out a low chuckle.

arvin shoved the dirty tissue in his pocket and replaced it with another. “that’s awfully nice, thanks.” “those guys are...” you looked around to make sure no one was listening. “assholes.” “pieces of shit, all of them,” he added on in a mumble. his abruptness drew a laugh from you, the sound making him feel tingly. a good tingly, not like when he was getting beat up.

“you said it,” you agreed and fixed your eyes on his face. he was really handsome, even with the scratches. arvin noticed your stare, the corners of his lips pulling into a smile. “well, i don’t wanna keep you,” you sighed out despite yourself. he guessed you were referring to lenora. he’d nearly forgotten she was in the car.

“alright, thanks again for checkin’ up on me. was really kind of you,” arvin said and actually meant it. most of the time, he was polite because his grandma told him to be. you’d quickly become someone who he thought deserved it for real. “no problem. maybe put on a bandaid when you get home,” you suggested before finger-waving goodbye.

you’d found arvin at lunch the next day to ask how his cut was doing. you truly did care, and it turned out that he listened to you and covered it with a bandage. he was alone because the underclassmen eat earlier in the day, including lenora. though he didn’t mind much, it was nice to have someone to sit with. the two of you eventually started eating together every day.

arvin took such a liking to you that he asked you on a date a few weeks in. you instantly said yes, and you two have been together ever since. it’s been about half a year.

half a year, yet you can only count the times you’ve kissed or hugged or cuddled on one hand. he’s affectionate in other ways. lots of pet names and sweet words. that’s about it. he’ll hold your hand if you initiate it, but never tightens his grip. it doesn’t make any sense to you. arvin seems like he’d be a pretty touchy guy.

you’ve never brought it up to him because, hey, maybe you’re wrong. he simply might not enjoy physical affection. you conclude that’s all there is to it. if there was a bigger issue, arvin would have said something by now. he’s never backed down from an opportunity to speak his mind.

arvin had a really good day today. nobody started unnecessary shit with him or lenora, he got his paycheck from work, and you two went out to lunch. you’re back at his house and hanging in arvin’s room after all that.

your head is resting on his pillows, arvin sitting where your feet are. you give him a lazy smile. he exhales, grinning back and coming towards you. his hands end up on your hips, pulling you closer to him. it sends an electrifying shock through your whole body whenever he touches you because it happens so rarely.

arvin moves so he’s between your legs, his face and lips not too far from yours. his lips finally land on your cheek. “what’re you doing, arv?” you giggle at his out of the ordinary behavior. “kissin’ you,” he says like he’s done it a million times before, going in for another. you stop him by pushing at his chest.

not that you’re opposed, but you want to know what’s changed first.

“since when do you do that?” you question, fingers tugging at his button down. arvin pulls away from you. “just thought you’d like it. i can stop if-“ “no, no. i want you to,” you cut him off before he gets discouraged. “but how come you’ve waited so long?” his gaze shifts from you to his hands.

“when we first met, i was always in some kinda fight,” he starts, voice lower than it was a minute ago. “i didn’t want you to think i was violent, or i was usin’ you for a quick fuck like those...” arvin shakes his head. “those assholes do.” your face softens as he explains everything. it’s not that he wasn’t interested in physical affection. he just wanted to be gentle.

“feel like now i can touch you without scarin’ you off,” arvin finishes and meets your eyes again. “i know you’re not like that, arvin. you could never scare me off,” you coo, grabbing his shoulders firmly. “i love you.” his worried look relaxes into one of fondness. he lets your words sit with him before murmuring back a “love you a lot, darlin’.”

arvin quickly gets back to his playful self. “okay if i kiss you?” he smirks at you, eager to get familiar with the taste of your lips. you don’t answer with words. you instead capture his own lips in a needy kiss, which he instantly reciprocates. he’s still grasping at your hips, which contrasts the light kiss he’s giving you.

your theory about arvin being a touchy guy is proven right. his fingers move up and down your sides slowly, earning a quiet moan from you. you’ve been so touch starved. he figures out a couple of other ways to make you moan tonight, too.

#tom holland #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #arvin russell #arvin russell imagine #arvin russell smut #arvin russell fluff

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glimmerglanger · 4 years ago

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Snippet for Home (On the Range): I'm curious about any past relationships Cody and Ben have had, and so if you feel up to it, I'd love to watch them have the conversation about past loves that always has to happen eventually. :D

:D GOOD MORNING! I almost said this was the first of the follow-ups for "Home (On the Range)" but, in fact, there've been two already aha. This is the first one set AFTER the fic, though only by a week or so.

This is a (not that) little Codywan snippet. Established relationship and it got VERY SPICY. Grown-up conversations ensue.

~~~~

The temperatures had dipped well into chilly, at least overnight, when Cody suggested they head out deep into the ranch one evening. “You can see every star up there,” he said, pulling Ben into a kiss. “Thought it might be nice. And we’ll want to do it before it gets any colder.”

Ben wondered if the suggestion had anything to do with the astronomy lessons he’d been prepping for class, even as he hummed agreement. They piled blankets into the bed of Cody’s truck, along a sleeping bag and a few thermoses full of something warm.

It was dark by the time they pulled up onto the ridge of a hill, deep inside the borders of the ranch. Cody turned the lights off, nothing but the rumble of the engine breaking the stillness of the night, and said, “It’ll take a bit for our eyes to adjust. Half an hour, maybe.”

“Oh, really?” Ben said, hooking a finger into the collar of Cody’s shirt and pulling him over, murmuring, against his mouth, “whatever shall we do to fill the time?”

Cody huffed a laugh, mouth welcoming and warm, swearing briefly when Ben added, after a beat, “You know, I’m not sure there’s any way I can fit into your lap over there.”

Cody’s eyes caught the light of the stars outside, just a little, as he rasped back, “Good thing we’ve got the entire bed of the truck, then.” And he popped open his door, allowing in the cooler outside air, even as he turned off the truck.

The air felt nippy on Ben’s face as they climbed up into the bed of the truck, but it wasn’t so bad, really. They’d spread out the sleeping bag along the bed, keeping away the chill of the metal, and there were plenty of blankets.

And, well.

Kissing Cody always warmed him up, anyway. Ben thought about pulling his close, the stars as yet unseen stretching overhead and the hills rolling all around them, the Tetons watching, sentinels in the distance.

Cody swore when his phone buzzed, pulling it out of his pocket and taking a step away from the truck as Ben finished sorting the blankets, considering that he’d never had sex in the back of a truck before. It seemed a nice idea, making love out under the endless sky.

He grimaced when he recalled that he’d left his wallet back at the house, condoms along with it, though he’d slid a packet of lube into his front pocket. He frowned, swinging over the side of the truck to see if Cody had brought his wallet, plucking it from his pocket as he said, “--Rex, I swear to God, if you try to come out here right now--”

He winked when Cody looked over at him, waving the wallet, and listening to Rex laugh, his voice distant and distorted through the phone.

Ben left them to it, climbing back up into the truck, flipping Cody’s wallet open, pleased to find a familiar little foil square tucked inside. He drew it out, planning to set it aside for use in a bit, when they needed it, and frowned.

It felt...odd.

He tilted it around - noting the brand - and peered at it in the light provided by the moon and the stars. He blinked, grabbed his own phone, and turned it on to get enough light to read it properly, sure that he’d misread the expiration date, because--

“Something wrong?” Cody asked, the truck dipping slightly as he stepped up onto the bed, apparently done with Rex.

“Well,” Ben said, putting down his phone and turning the condom in his fingers. “Aside from the fact that this condom expired five years ago, not really.”

Cody paused, still standing, looking down at him. “Oh,” he said, as Ben turned the little packet again and then, on a whim, tore it open. He’d never actually seen one expire before.

“Hm,” he said, wrinkling his nose. Apparently, they were not one of the things that stayed good, even long, long after they expired. Any moisture had long since disappeared. The condom itself looked like a dessicated snake skin, or something like it. “I don’t think this’ll work,” he added. “Though we could try rehydrating it, I suppose, I--”

“Let’s not do experiments on the condom,” Cody said, taking it out of his fingers and tucking it into a pocket. “Should we go back to the house? Get another one?” He sank down, close by, and Ben considered it, but--

“I’m sure we’ll find some way to entertain ourselves,” he said, looped an arm around Cody’s shoulders, and pulled him close.

He’d gotten familiar with the best ways to take off Cody’s clothes, unbuttoning his flannel shirt and pushing it off his shoulders, tugging his undershirt out of his waistband. Cody pulled the blankets up around them, the warmth from his skin translating into Ben’s body as Ben shimmied out of his jeans, pulling his own shirt over his head.

The moonlight shone off of Cody’s skin, caught in the dark curls of his hair. Their breath steamed the air - the temperature had really plunged with the fall of night - but Ben didn’t feel cold, not as they tangled close together, trading kisses that set a fire in his veins, not with Cody putting off heat like a furnace, warm hands all over Ben’s skin.

And Ben had become rather fond of the idea of getting fucked under the stars, in the brief time he’d had to consider it. Just because it wasn’t going to happen the way he’d initially assumed didn’t mean it wouldn’t happen at all.

“Here,” he rasped, rolling onto his side, grabbing for the jeans and the lube in his pocket, pulling it out, “Here, like this, ah, Cody.”

Cody’s weight felt good against his back, warm and solid, Cody’s teeth scraping along the curve of his shoulder as he settled, taking the packet of lube from Ben’s fingers without any of the hesitation he’d displayed the first few times they were intimate with one another.

“Like this?” Cody rumbled, right against his shoulder, and Ben heard the wet movement of Cody slicking up his own cock, felt the smear of the rest of the lube over the back of his thighs and--

Exhaled, hard, when Cody ground against him, overheated flesh sliding together. Probably, they were making more of a mess than they should have done, out in the middle of some field, out in - in such an exposed place, but--

It was hard to care, with Cody sucking a kiss into his neck and grinding against him, panting out, “Spread your legs, just a little,” and when Ben listened, slotting his cock right between Ben’s thighs, rocking them together.

If there were anyone around, Ben hated to think what would have been overheard, the two of them swearing and gasping and groaning. He knew he cried out, loudly, when Cody slid a hand over his hip, gripping his cock and stroking him, so sure and so steady and--

Well.

The sleeping bag was going to need a wash when they got back home.

So was Ben, in all honesty.

He laughed, hoarsely, when Cody pulled away from him, leaving his inner thighs smeared with come. It was quite warm, at first, but Ben knew that wouldn’t last. “See,” he said, sprawling onto his side, thighs held apart, groping for something to wipe up with, “a condom would have prevented this mess.”

“Sorry about that,” Cody said, and then, “here, use my shirt.”

And then he used it himself, wiping up the mess all over Ben’s legs and cock. He even smeared away the mess on the sleeping bag, as best he could. Ben watched him - he was easier to see, Ben’s eyes must have adjusted, and said, “Why did you have an expired condom in your wallet, anyway?”

Cody balled his shirt up, the mess tucked away inside, and shrugged. He tossed it into one corner of the bed of the truck. “It’s just the one I’ve always had. I never really checked the date on it.”

Ben blinked, turning that over in his head, even as Cody settled close to him, naked under the blankets. Ben said, as Cody curled an arm around him. “The one you’ve always - you - what does that mean?”

Cody shrugged, stubble rasping against Ben’s shoulder, while Ben wondered if Cody had really avoided using a condom before, because that didn’t sound like him at all, and--

“I got it, ah, years ago. When I was - when I thought I might need it. But then I didn’t. I kept it, just in case. But…” He trailed off, shrugging again.

Ben blinked up at the clear, shining stars, and then rolled to face Cody, gut doing something strange. “Wait. Did you never--”

“I did stuff,” Cody said, still staring up at the stars. “A few times with, uh, with a guy I really liked. He competed, too. We were friends for a while. And then one day I just wanted to kiss him, so I did. And we, well. Fooled around, I guess. But then I beat him, pretty soundly, and he didn’t want to anymore.”

Ben blinked, processing that. He’d known that, sooner or later, they’d end up having a talk about their pasts. That kind of thing happened. “He didn’t want to anymore?” he asked, trying to get his mind around anyone not wanting Cody anymore, he was--

“Yeah, I guess.” Cody sighed, tucked his arm behind his head, and stared starward. “And I’d already bought the string of condoms, even though we’d only needed two. But then it was over, so. And I put one in my wallet.”

Ben watched his expression carefully. He didn’t seem upset. Just...relating the story. “And then you never used it,” Ben said, quietly.

“Never needed it,” Cody said, shrugging against the sleeping bag. “I’ve been busy since then. And didn’t have anyone I particularly wanted to use it with.”

“Oh,” Ben said, the cold air nipping at his exposed skin, but ever so warm under the blankets.

“What about you?” Cody asked, before he could wrangle another thought together. “Yours aren’t ever expired.”

“Ah, no,” Ben said, and then shrugged, settling against Cody’s side. “I’ve always been very careful to use them.” He felt his ears heat.

Cody hummed, curled an arm tighter around him, and said, “I know you’ve been with more people’n me, Ben. It doesn’t bother me. Hell, I’m glad one of us knows what we’re doing.”

Ben exhaled a little, snuggling in closer against the cold. It had, probably, been foolish to worry, to brace for disapproval. He traced patterns on Cody’s chest under the blanket and said, “I had no idea that you didn’t, ah, know what you were doing.”

Cody snorted, rolling onto his side, brushing a kiss to Ben’s cheek and then his mouth, fingers tracing down his spine. His expression, what Ben could see of it, looked a bit smug. “I learn fast,” he said, tone warm and low. “Especially when I get hands-on instruction.”

“I see that.” Ben crooked his mouth, brushing Cody’s hair back from his face. He figured, feeling soft and content, that if they were going to discuss their histories, he might as well finish it all, and went on, “I haven’t had many long relationships. Just...brief flings. A longer thing with a girl, right before I started college. And Luminara and I tried to make something work, once. But we’re much better friends than lovers.”

Cody nodded, said, “I never was very interested in girls.”

“Mm, I gathered.” He leaned in for another kiss, shivering when Cody brushed his callused fingers a little lower. He rasped, gut tightening, “Don’t tease.”

“Sorry,” Cody murmured, nipping his bottom lip. “And sorry we don’t have all the supplies we need.” Ben hummed, not overly concerned by the lack, not when they could trade sweet, lazy kisses, occasionally glancing at the stars, until Cody went on, “You know. We could - well. We’re together. Just the two of us.”

Ben turned away from his contemplation of a constellation he couldn’t name, nodding, and Cody went on, “We could get tested. I mean. I don’t think I could have caught anything, to be honest. And if I had, I think I’d have noticed in the last couple of years. And you’ve been careful, you said. But better to check. And then…”

He shrugged, and Ben considered it. He’d never slept with anyone skin on skin. Qui-Gon had been exceedingly clear about all the possible consequences of skipping out on protection. Even with Satine, young and giddy half the time, he’d always been careful.

But - he didn’t plan to share his bed with anyone else, he considered, staring across at Cody in the dark, under the brilliant light of the stars and the moon. He didn’t want to kiss anyone else. Or pull anyone else close in the night.

His heart ached in his chest, sweetly, and he said, “And then we wouldn’t need supplies to have sex in the back of your truck?”

“Mm,” Cody said, rolling closer to him, one elbow braced by his head, leaning down to kiss him, “Or to make love under the stars, either.”

Ben shivered, curled an arm around him, and felt his stomach swoop, imagining that, imagining them skin to skin everywhere. He said, his voice gone to a rasp, “That sounds very nice,” and Cody smiled against his mouth, kissing him again.

#glimmer replies #ask me anything #home (on the range)#the cowboy au #follow ups #snippets #codywan #SPICY #enjoy!

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taetaesbaebaepsae · 3 years ago

Text

Quiver (bbh)

Summary: You meet a man who seems to know nearly everything about you, save your name.

As with nearly every Baek fic I write, for @illneverrecover! Although she actually paid me for this one hahaha

Also thank you to my sister for betaing and making my gorgeous banner!

Warnings: angst, violence and death tw, unprotected sex, outdoors sex, oral sex (f. receiving), this is more soft and sad than horny tbh

Word Count: 10,219

Deja vu is something you don't feel very often, and so when it washes over you in a wave that leaves goosebumps on your flesh, you look around.

You're not sure what you're looking for, but you feel that when you find it, you'll know.

Your eyes fall on a man sitting at a table, looking down at a book. His hair is slicked back but with pieces falling into his face, and as if he knows you're staring, he looks up at you.

He has the warmest brown eyes, and something like a shock shoots through your heart. Your feet are moving before you realize it.

"Have we met before?"

He smiles, and your heart flutters.

"Maybe in another life."

His name, it turns out, is Baekhyun, and he works at some investment firm you've never heard of but it doesn't matter because he has the most endearing way of smiling at you while you're speaking to him.

You assume he has money because the car he leads you to is nice, not ridiculously so but expensive to upkeep, a foreign model that's sleek and your favorite color: red.

"Why red?" You ask, sliding into the leather seat of this stranger's car because you just know he's safe, somewhere in you.

He gives you that half smile again, the one that gives you something akin to deja vu.

"Reminds me of someone."

You wonder if you might fuck him on the first date, if coffee even counts as a first date, and it's the first time you've ever done that but when he makes you tea and you lean against his kitchen counter he gives you this look. It's like there's something dark and deep in his brown eyes, something both flirty and almost darkly lustful.

It makes your heart flip. It makes your body tingle. It makes you a little afraid.

But you've never been one to run from fear, especially when it's all wrapped up with excitement and lust.

When you're sitting on his couch and sipping tea he's swiveled his body toward you just slightly, open and inviting, but he doesn't make a move, just watches you, listens as you fill the silence, laughs when you make a face when you pick up his tea instead of yours, which is bitter and devoid of the sugar you love.

You make the first move, in fact, end up clutching at his shirt as you kiss his mouth over and over because it feels soft and his tongue is hot and it feels familiar.

His hands skate up your sides once, above your shirt, and then again, under it, and that feels familiar too, long fingers on your flesh.

"You haven't met your soulmate yet," the tarot reader said. You and a friend had visited her a few years ago, when you were half drunk at a carnival.

"At least," she'd continued, "not in this lifetime."

"Are you sure we haven't met before?" You ask, two weeks later when you've spent almost all

your free time with him, and most of it in his bed.

"Maybe in your dreams," he'd quipped, and you elbow him but he's already spooning you and you're too half asleep to do much damage.

"Always in mine," he says, softly, just as you're drifting to sleep, and you can't pry your eyes open long enough to ask what that means.

You start a fling of sorts with this mysterious man, and for the most part, you’re happy. But then you start having these dreams.

Sometimes, there’s fire on a wall in front of you and when you turn around it’s behind you, too.

You can feel your skin burning and you can barely breathe when you wake.

Sometimes there’s thunder booming all around you, lightning that streaks across the sky and you’re running and running toward someone, a man with warm brown eyes, but you can’t get there and when you look down you’re running in water up to your waist.

Always, he’s there. You suppose it’s because you and Baekhyun have been spending so much time together, that he’s in your head all the time as much as you hate to admit it.

Finally, he’s next to you in bed when you bolt upright, frightened by the thunder because it’s one of those fire dreams, one where you can feel the flesh on your arms crinkling, and it burns burns burns until it doesn’t, until you feel so cold you wake up shivering.

You’re afraid and disoriented and the dream all comes out in a rush — you tell him everything, small details about how you’re clutching a rosary in one hand, how the baubles on it popped n the flames, and he puts his arms around you, lets you bury your face in his chest as your heart rate slows down.

“Your name was Eva, then,” he murmurs, so quietly you’d think you were still dreaming.

Something about it rings true. You wonder if you’d heard that in the dream and told him still half asleep, so you nod against his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he breathes into your neck after pulling you into his lap and it’s so mournful it almost frightens you.

“You can’t help my dreams,” you say playfully, trying to forget it, and he gives you the saddest smile.

“No, not those.”

You keep having those dreams, and they get more and more detailed and sometimes your name is Eva and sometimes it’s Yui and sometimes it’s Sarabeth and they’re all different, you look different, but you always feel how it ends.

And Baekhyun is always there. He looks the same, unlike you, and sometimes he’s your enemy, sometimes he’s your friend but most of the time, he’s your lover.

The dream that finally makes you confront him goes like this.

Your name is Angelica and your father was royalty but you’re just a bastard, your mother a commoner, a servant of the crown.

Once you’re old enough to have his eyes, you have to stay hidden like some fairy tale princess. Except you’re no princess in your dusty cabin, and you learn to hunt small game so that your mother doesn’t have to steal so much from the castle. It’s good that you learn, because your mother stops coming to the cabin and you learn that the plague has taken her.

The plague has taken nearly everyone, and you haven’t seen another person in months when you happen upon a man.

You have your bow drawn before he ever sees you, the string (made of rabbit sinew because it’s all you had, the bow made of oak that you’d chopped yourself) and arrow pointed straight and true.

He shifts, turns around and you hesitate just a moment when you catch his gaze, something familiar in his deep brown eyes. It’s long enough for him to draw his own bow, and he’s quick, quicker than you are, so you let your arrow fly.

His arrow flies a second after yours and they meet in the space between you, shredding each other in two.

You’d thought, then, that it was an omen.

Good or bad, you didn’t know.

You’d run back to the cabin and locked yourself in, but he’d followed you.

A few hours later, he knocked on the door and your heart started to race. Your mother had warned you what men could do to an unattended woman.

There was nothing else, though, and you waited half an hour to open the door.

A basket is sitting on the doorstep, and it contains dried meat and fresh cherries and peaches.

You hadn’t had fruit in years. There’s also a small bouquet of flowers, filled with dandelion fluff and baby’s breath, a few blossoms of lavender. It smells lovely.

You take your time eating the peaches, they have the sweetest juice that you let run down your chin like a child.

It’s been so long since you’ve eaten well that you overdo it and your stomach feels tied in a knot, but you’re smiling when you fall asleep that night, for what feels like the first time.

There’s another basket at the end of the week but he’s standing on the doorstep with it, smiling.

“Maiden, I was wondering if you had any water?”

“Will you draw your bow again when I turn my back?” You ask, wary, and he shakes his head, laughing softly.

“You drew yours first, maiden. I was surprised. The plague has taken so many it seems like I’m the only one left in all the world.”

He doesn’t look intimidating, doesn’t look as if he’s about to rush you, but you’ll be damned if you’ll let a strange man into your home, so you sit on the doorstep with him and eat the peaches he’d brought.

He watches the juice drip down your fingers, how you lick it off, with something in his eyes you haven’t seen before.

You sit and chat for a while, still wary, but he keeps looking at you like that, and you wonder if this is what it feels like, if this is what is to be wanted.

Three days and three dinners of peaches and dried meat later, you let him inside for a glass of water drawn from the well out back.

He drinks it down like he’s been thirsty for days, and you feel guilty for not letting him in earlier.

The way he licks his lips when he’s done makes something flutter inside your stomach and you put a hand there, low, almost on your pubic bone.

He watches every move you make, this mystery man who doesn’t have a hint of facial hair despite living in the woods, watches where you place your hands and fingers, how you move your mouth. He watches you as if you’re something fascinating, like watching fire burn wood down to embers.

When you were young, your mother took you to the Maypole festival, and all the children had been given these long sticks to dip in the fire, to twirl them around and make shapes in the night sky. You’d done it over and over until the stick was burned down too far and even then, you tried to dip it and burned your wrist.

He looks at you like you’d looked at the shapes you’d made with the lit stick. With wonder.

The first time he touches you it feels like the first time you’d felt warm water on your skin as a child, warmed on the fire with an iron pot, your mother spooning it over you slowly.

He touches you that way, slowly, murmuring bits of your name and it slides off his tongue like honey.

“Angelica. Angel,” he murmurs, right at the shell of your ear, and your bones seem to turn to jelly as you melt into him, your back against his chest.

Your mother had told you that one day you’d have a lover.

“Not a king,” she’d said, “but something more.”

You’d asked her what’s more than a king and she’d only smiled, held a finger to her lips as if the two of you shared a secret.

You did, your secret was that you existed, that your father was who he was and that your mother wasn’t his queen, at least not in name.

You tremble underneath his hands and when he turns you around, presses his mouth to yours, he does it slowly. You’re the one who grabs the back of his head, threads your fingers through the long hair at the nape of his neck, wanting him closer, so close, wanting to burrow inside him and live there because you’re aching for him all over and you don’t know what it means.

“Let me call you by your name,” you plead when he’s kneeling before you, pulling down your underclothes, spreading the curls at your core where you’re hot and aching and wet.

He shakes his head. “I have too many names.”

“Tell me one of them,” you beg.

He doesn’t answer, presses his mouth to your cunt and you gasp, tugging his hair hard and he makes a low groan, throat exposed, that makes something come awake in your lower stomach, something somehow both like fire and honey, hot and slow and sweet.

“Give me your name,” you demand.

One corner of his mouth turns up.

“My name is Love,” he tells you, and presses his face back into your cunt, inhales like he loves the scent of you, his hands spreading apart your thighs so roughly that you brace your hands on the table behind you.

It isn’t a name you’d heard any man to have, but maybe he isn’t a man, maybe he’s one of the fae your Irish born mother told you stories about when you were a girl.

Maybe that’s the something more your mother told you about your future lover after reading your palm when you were sixteen.

You hunt together, and you’re in awe of how quick he is with his bow, how he shoots straight through the heart of even the smallest animals, voles and rabbits that you roast over the fire and feast on while he tells you wild tales about his brothers and sisters.

One rules the sea, he tells you, with a magic trident. One makes lightning bolts for his father deep underground where there’s fire so hot it melts rock and stone.

You’re fascinated, sit for hours just watching his mouth as he speaks and sometimes you vault into his lap mid sentence, silence him with your mouth on his because you want want want.

Your mother had told you many things about your future lover, about how you should be demure just like a man wants, but you can’t even try, not with him. Not with your mysterious, many named, no named lover, because he presses your nails deep into his chest when you straddle his hips, hisses when you leave bite marks along his throat and collarbone.

You pretend to be demure sometimes, if only to make him frown, to make him throw you down on your bedclothes roughly, to bite your lip bloody.

“Don’t pretend you don’t have talons, angel,” he growled, and you can’t help the way you laugh loud and open, even with your legs spread wantonly.

Physical love isn’t at all like your mother had described it, and you wonder if she’d only ever been with the king, with a man who cared so little for his paramours that he’d allowed your mother to die alone in the slums, locking her out from the castle so that his heirs might live.

It isn’t something that you lie down and take the way your mother must have, sometimes it’s animalistic, feral like you’d seen horses mate at the castle’s stables when you were young.

You present yourself on all fours and he slides his hands down your ass, grabs the flesh there to part you, presses his face into your cunt until your thighs are shaking. It’s not love that you feel during those times, not exactly, more like that want want want that you feel so often with him.

Your breath catches when he pulls your hair, wraps it around his fist so that your back arches, so that you twist to look at him. Later, when you’re both sweaty and sated, that’s when the love comes, loud and blooming in your chest as he kisses the fingerprint bruises he’s left on your hips, his fingers gentle on your sensitive skin until your breath slows.

Love is a thing that blooms, you would write if you’d ever been taught how. Love is my man’s name and it’s blooming in me like spring flowers.

You go for walks to gather berries because you’re too busy fucking to hunt and you can get by on a few more fruits and you don’t want to wake him. Once you’d brought home rose petals for tea and a piece of a honey comb that had made his eyes light up.

He’d spread the honey across your nipples, suckled and nipped there until you were sore, and one day, you want that again, especially the way his brown eyes sparkled when he’d seen it.

You have a way with the bees, after all, a way of singing high and sweet that makes them buzz around you slowly instead of angrily.

You’re halfway down the path before you realize you’ve left your quiver and bow. Love (both the man and the feeling) makes you feel stupid, heady and slow, and you pause for a moment, wondering if you should turn back.

Instead, you head forward because it’ll be sunset soon and you won’t be able to find that tree, the one with the beehive and honeycomb that your man loves so much.

It happens so quickly it feels like an instant. You step out from the bushes after gathering some blackberries, so juicy they’ve stained your fingers, and the next thing you know, you’re on the ground. When you try to stand, you can’t, a pain blooming (a lot like love) through your stomach and you’re sure there weren’t any raspberries so what’s this red spreading out onto the ground?

You see your man’s boots, barely laced, before you see his face and someone behind you is stuttering but you hear the swish of your lover’s arrow, a choked, gurgling sound and then he’s knelt down at your side.

“Angel, angel,” he whispers, and he’s crying and you want to tell him not to because it makes you afraid.

What’s happened? What’s wrong?

You don’t realize you’re not actually speaking until he cradles your face, lies down in the dirt to face you, and everything but his touch, his eyes, seems far away and unimportant.

“I’m sorry,” he says brokenly. “I need you to remember. When next we meet, remember my name.”

You want to. You want to remember everything about him but you’re sure that you’re floating away now.

“Baekhyun,” he tells you. “My name will be Baekhyun.”

As an immortal, it's hard to remember every moment. Years and decades blur together. The only moments Baekhyun can call to mind in perfect recall are the first times he's seen you

For a while, he’d thought Rome might be the worst lifetime he’d ever have.

He knows what he’s supposed to do, knows it’s his job, but he can barely ever bring himself to do it.

In Rome, you’re excited, young, bouncing around with your hair braided. Fire red, always red, always as fiery as your personality. “Eros, right? God of love.”

He’d smiled, wondering if he looked as tired as he felt. “You think I’m a god? I’m flattered.”

You scoff, swirl your dress around as you turn, speaking with your hands as always and his heart aches with how familiar it all is. “Don’t think that means you’re special.”

Baekhyun cocks an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Yes. Means that you’re here to help me fall in love.”

“Is that so?” He can’t stop smiling at you, despite knowing what will inevitably happen next.

“Mmhm.” You’d taken his hand, flipped your braid over to the other side of your shoulder. He always tries. He always tries, gods damn it, damn his father and his brothers and sisters, he tries.

But there’s always this moment, where you take his hand, or brush your knuckles against his lips just so, or you just look at him up under your lashes, and the arrow he’s supposed to be aiming feels like it goes straight through his heart.

“I have someone in mind.”

It’s like the arrow in his heart twists, and gods know his arrows have always been true and fatal.

Your smile is so bright, and his heart is so full but it hurts at the same time and what a curse this is, to be able to fall in love with you so easily but have you fall for someone else just as fast.

He tells himself that he won’t try to change your mind, that he won’t let himself get close to you as you go on this search for your true mate.

You’d been childhood sweethearts, you and your match, but he’s been called away to war and you’ve been in mourning ever since.

He’s a god, but he is the god of love, after all, and with all your heart you believed that you loved another. He tells himself he’s doing the right thing… for the third time.

The first time, when it had all started, he’d fallen in love with you and seduced you and you’d forgotten all about your true match and it had all ended in fire and blood.

In Rome, in your third lifetime, he tells himself he won’t let that happen again. So when you put your hand on his thigh when you crouch down to drink on your journey, he wills his skin not to heat and his heart not to skip.

Three weeks in and you’re exhausted, your feet are swollen and bleeding from all the walking and you slide into his furs instead of your own, press your face against his chest.

“Maybe he’s gone,” you say, quietly, and Baekhyun is as still as death, telling himself he doesn’t want to lean down to kiss you, to tell you that it doesn’t matter where your sweetheart is because he’s here and ready and he wants you more than anything.

“We’ll find him,” he promises, and it’s a promise he keeps, even when you press your mouth to his and he takes it, this small comfort, until you fall into a fitful sleep.

Greece was bittersweet, because you found your match in the end and Baekhyun shot his arrow hoping that he’d miss. But his arrow was true, shot straight into the heart of your paramore.

You found your true match, fell in love, had children, and Baekhyun could have gone. Could have sailed away at sea, gone anywhere in the world. But even in Greece he’d spent three lifetimes with you (in one way or another) and he can’t bring himself to be more than a few miles away from you.

Instead, he’d watch you playing with your daughter in the garden, watch you kiss your husband, laughing into his mouth when he picked you up.

He watched you grow old, have grandchildren, plant roses that still never bloomed. You were never a gardener, no matter how you tried. It’s odd, how happy he feels for you, and how his heart clenches in his chest, how hard he wishes it were him.

He would never grow old, and he would never have you more than a few fleeting weeks, months, once even two wonderful years. Eros is love, and love isn’t supposed to fall in love.

So when he did, all those years ago, his father cursed him to find your match, over and over and over. It was you then and it’s you in Greece and Rome and England and Portugal and a thousand other countries that didn’t even have names when he’d met you there.

He’d thought Greece would be the worst because of the longing, because of the jealousy that brewed vile in the back of his throat, but Rome was much worse.

The Church ruled everything and at first Baekhyun thought that was normal. After all, when he was young he and his family had ruled everything. These are just different gods, although perhaps harsher ones.

They called you a harlot because of the fire red of your hair, the way you wore dresses slit up to your hip, the way you'd laugh if someone asked the last time you'd gone to confession.

"You should go to Mass," he'd warned with a lock of that fire red hair slipping through his fingers.

You'd smiled at him. "Why's that, lover? You want to hear my confession?"

He tugs your hair, exposing your throat as you let out a raspy moan, grinding against his thigh.

"What have you to confess, stellina?”

(Of all the languages and all the pet names he'd called you, stellina is his favorite, translates to star, and you burn so bright and beautiful it breaks his heart.)

"Impure thoughts," you muse. "Fornication before marriage.”

You pause. "This might take some time, amore."

You slide down under the linen, leaving open mouthed kisses and nips on his hip bones and thighs, and he forgets what he was going to warn you about.

(He loves any term you call him, in Spain mi corazon, in England love, in German liebling. But his true favorite is when you learn his name, his true name.)

You die fighting, that lifetime, clawing at the priests who’ve decided a witch needs baptism, holding you under the water until you finally stop, your nails broken and bloody.

Baekhyun finds you there, hours too late because he’d been sleeping off the night before, when he’d warned you about Mass, when you’d both stayed up all night, love talk and making love and a good deal of fucking, too, and he hates himself.

Hates that even though he is what he is, he needs sleep and food and water. He hates himself when he lifts you up, your fire red hair darkened by the water, hates himself when he kisses your bloody nails one by one and buries you behind the garden where you used to plant roses that never bloomed.

He hates himself most because it never gets easier, seeing you die, never gets easier knowing that he can’t, that he’s cursed to do this over and over.

In 1402, in Malaysia, you’d just had two streaks of red locks in the front, tendrils that stuck to the sides of your face when you were sweating, and you’re sweating when he first sees you, although you hit him before he ever sees your face.

You’d dropped down from a tree branch, locked your arms around his neck and cut off his airflow. It isn’t as if you could have killed him, but he respects it, all the same. You’ve got this little knife and you slice his throat but it doesn’t bleed, closes up as you watch and you drop to your knees, wide eyed but still, not submitting. Even when you know he’s a god, you never submit. At least, not that way.

Later, he kisses all the scars on your forearms and wrists, defensive wounds from battles and scuffles with the male soldiers who’d found you out.

"I never let them break me," you'd said, proudly, but there's something behind your eyes that makes him want to slaughter all the male soldiers in their sleep, bring you their heads, a sacrifice like the old gods had demanded.

As he had once demanded, before he met a human girl with an immortal soul full of fire and was punished for worshipping her.

Now it's 2021 and he's been through so many years, and he's tired. He's changed his name, over and over, from Eros to Cupid to then more common names.

He's been Baekhyun the last four lifetimes because you seem to like it, it makes you giggle in 1924 when your red (always red, red like fire and blood and love and all things that are important to him) hair was bobbed and you were wearing a black sequined dress at a speakeasy.

"Baek," you'd laughed, tipsy, one hand on his arm and he couldn't stop smiling at you. "Almost like Bark, like a dog."

"I'll be whatever you want me to be," he'd answered, flirting but also honest. He'd always been whatever you wanted because he got so few years with you, each time.

"You'd be my dog?" Your eyes sparkled with booze and excitement.

He nodded. "Follow you around like a puppy."

When you'd given him an incredulous smile, he'd opened his mouth in the middle of a packed speakeasy in New York City and barked like a dog.

The way you'd laughed is something he can hear in his dreams years later, tries to make it the memory he remembers most instead of the ones where you'd died screaming.

Now, there are no more gods who want you for sacrifice, all of his kind who were vengeful had gone silent, moved on or passed on, including his father who'd cursed him in the first place.

He's hoping, every lifetime, that this is where it ends. He's hoping that this time he doesn't have to tell you.

He's wrong, just like he had been in 1425 and 1604 and 1976. The curse outs itself, as curses always do.

You sit up in bed, watching him sleep and shivering, for what seems like hours after that dream.

He wakes slowly, but scrambles up into a seated position as soon as he’s fully conscious, being careful not to touch you.

“Do you remember?” He asks.

“I don’t know.” You mumble, even if you have a feeling you do.

“At some point, you always remember.”

“What are you talking about? Why are you so goddamn cryptic?” Your voice is hoarse and loud.

He nods, as if expecting your outburst.

“Sometimes you’re not ready to hear.”

You want to scream in frustration. “Hear what?”

“What I am. What we are.”

“And what are we?”

“Immortals.”

You gawk at him. He makes it sound so simple, like he’s talking to a child.

“You’re an immortal?”

“You, too.” He pauses. “Well, in a different way.”

“So what, you’re telling me that was real? My dream? Angelica?”

Baekhyun lets out a long breath, shifts on the bed to face you.

“You were Eva. Angelica. Yui. In Greece I called you stellina. You’ve had more names than I have.”

You look up into his eyes and if he’s lying, he deserves an Academy award for the performance.

“What… what are you?”

You aren’t sure if you’re frightened or intrigued or both.

Baekhyun smiles then, wryly.

“Eros. Cupid. Angelica simply called me Love.”

“You’re telling me you’re like... the god of love? The one with the arrows?”

He looks as if he wants to laugh at you but wisely, he doesn’t. Instead he nods.

“Is it… is it always like it was when… when I was Angelica?” You ask, breathing in deeply because you remembered the pain in your chest, the way the blood spread out on the dirt in your lucid dream.

“Almost always,” he says softly, and reaches out to put his hands on yours.

You would have thought you would have flinched away but instead, his touch seems to comfort you and you lean into him.

“What happens when I don’t?” You ask, curiously, and something shutters over his eyes.

“You’re happy.” He rubs your knuckles between his fingers.

It’s a lot to take in and you have a million more questions but also, you can’t think of a single one that you can put into words. You pace around the bedroom and when that’s not enough, your entire apartment, and then outside to the elevator and back and he stays put, sitting cross legged in bed and looking at you with those deep brown eyes.

Finally, you plop down on the edge of the bed, exhausted.

“So what do we do?”

He just looks at you, again with that bemused smile playing at the edge of his mouth.

“How do we fix it?” You demand.

Instead of responding, he takes your hands in his again, brushes his lips across your knuckles but this time you do recoil.

“I’m not going to die horribly again. You can’t want that.”

“Of course I don’t,” he murmurs, and you want a reaction, something other than the way he’s just looking at you so you shove him and he just lets you, falls back on the bed when you do it a second time.

“You just keep letting me die?” You accuse, crawling up onto the bed and he makes a growl in the back of his throat, grasps your wrists with one of his hands and pins you when you try to shove him again.

“I never let you die. I try over and over and over to save you, but I can’t. The only way I can save you is by finding-”

He looks away from you, shuts his mouth with a click of his teeth and you wriggle under him.

“Finding what?” You insist.

He lets you go, rolls over and puts his forearm over his eyes.

“Your true match. In all the lifetimes that you’ve lived to old age in, I shot my arrow to find your true match.”

You deflate, lying there next to him and staring up at the ceiling.

“So you’re saying in order to live like a normal person, I have to fall in love with someone else?”

“Yes,” he says miserably. After a few moments, he lifts his arm and opens one eye to look at you. “Got anyone in mind?”

You shove at his arm, but not as hard this time, and he breaks into a smile, takes you into his arms. You melt against him, just like before, because that’s what feels right, that’s what feels natural.

“That happened? Before?” You ask, stroking his hair and usually he preens at the attention, leans back to kiss you but now he buries his face in your hair, avoiding your gaze.

He murmurs something in affirmation and kisses just under your earlobe.

“You found someone else for me?”

He nods, still not lifting his head, and you huff out a breath, wanting some kind of reaction out of him.

“Was he hot?”

Baekhyun groans and laughs, rolls over onto his back. ‘You always do this.”

“Always do what?” You demand, poking at his side. “You know all these things about me...or well, some version of me, and I don’t know anything about you.”

He looks at you, smiling just a little. “You know everything about me.”

You huff, frustrated. “It doesn’t feel like it. I want to know more. I want to know how I died, why I died, what all this means.”

To his credit, Baekhyun tries to explain it to you. The curse, his family, but it’s all twisted up in your mind with these memories you have of him in past lives, of being so in love with him you can barely breathe, wanting him so badly you can barely sit still, and it ends with you tearing off his clothes and him laughing into your mouth as you guide him inside you.

After, you’re contrite, kissing along his collarbone.

“I don’t want you to find anyone else for me.”

Baekhyun makes a sound in the back of his throat and you don’t know if it’s surprise or something else.

“I don’t want anyone but you,” you continue, orgasm drunk and with this fire burning under your skin, remembering how Angelica felt, how Yui felt, moving closer to him on the bed because you can’t bear to have your skin not touching his in every place you can.

He pulls you on top of him, kissing you after you squeal in surprise and your lips feel swollen and bruised already but it’s the sweetest ache.

“I don’t think I could, even if you asked,” he admits, and something about the way he says it makes you proud, makes your heart swell. His hands skate over your upper arms and his touch gives you goosebumps.

“No?” You shift to spread your thighs, liking the way he hardens under you with just the barest movement.

Baekhyun shakes his head, his tongue coming out slowly to lick his lips. You see that you’ve bitten his bottom lip bloody and it sends a shot of heat through you.

“Usually I never found anyone else for you, not after I’d touched you. I started out meaning to find someone for you. Touching you first… having you first… it makes things complicated.”

You don’t speak but shift again and it seems to spur him on.

His face is flushed and it’s cute, makes you smile.

“You know why.”

“Do I?” You’re grinning now, like the cat that ate the canary, and he groans but he’s smiling.

He sits up suddenly, bracing himself against the headboard and he puts his hands on your hips to move you backwards so that his half hard erection sits right at the cleft of your cunt and when you gasp and try to guide him inside you, he tightens his hands with a slight shake of his head.

“You gonna make me say it?”

“You know I am.”

You gasp when he puts pressure on your clit with his thumb, humming in the back of his throat.

“I’ve loved you for centuries, and I’ll love you for centuries more, stellina.”

“What does that mean?” You gasp, your insides on fire with lust and love and full to bursting, rocking your hips forward and he gives you what you want, puts more pressure on your clit and lets you guide his cock inside you.

“Star,” he says softly, moving a hand up to cup your cheek. “Because you burn.”

You do burn, you burn inside and out and you want to tell him that you burn for him but he sticks his thumb in your mouth, presses down on your tongue just how you like and all you can do is moan around it.

He keeps his other thumb positioned just right so that you can rock against his hand and lift your ass so that his cock slides against your g-spot and you suck on his thumb until he hisses and bucks beneath you, moving so that you can lean down and kiss him hard, brace your hands on either side of him so that you can get more traction.

You’re sure that you’ll be sore in the morning, ever since you’ve met him (in this lifetime, at least) you’ve been in some type of bittersweet pain, an ache across your throat, soreness in your thighs and hips and ass where you’ve been riding him, a rawness deep inside from too much sex and not enough rest.

There’s never enough, never enough of your sweat misted skin sliding across his, never enough of his hand fisted in your hair, of his cock at the back of your throat, of his fingers hooked inside you. The past couple of weeks you’ve only left his apartment for work and a few changes of clothes (not that you wore them much, anyway).

It makes you feel more sane, knowing that you’ve wanted him this way in other lifetimes, makes you feel like the way you feel makes more sense, because you were beginning to think you were going crazy.

It isn’t as if he’s some kind of sex god, exactly, he just seems to know exactly what you like, exactly what you want, right away. That makes a kind of sense, now, how even when you’re on top he knows exactly what to do and say to get you to tip over the edge.

“I love the way you look like this,” he rasps, looking up at you as if maybe you are a star exploding and it isn’t just some nickname he gave you in Rome. “You’re so fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You cry out his name, throwing your head back when you cum and he palms his hands across your breasts and the stimulation across your nipples sends an aftershock through you right after. You’re like a ragdoll for a few moments after your orgasm and he shifts you around just like one, using you to get off and you kiss and kiss and kiss him, loving the way it feels when he spills inside you.

You say it then, maybe because he said it to you first or maybe just because your heart is full to bursting with it.

“I love you.” It’s almost defiant. “I love you, and I don’t want to love anyone else.”

He strokes your cheek where you’re still lying on top of him.

“I don’t know if we get a choice, stellina.”

There’s always questions when you find out, and Baekhyun is prepared for them. There’s often questions that hurt, somewhere deep in his bones, questions you’d asked over and over again.

Sometimes you’re curious about your other perfect matches, and that stings. Sometimes you want to know about your deaths, and those are hard memories to bring to the surface.

The question that always hurts the most, though, is the one you ask after you’ve both showered, lying sated and exhausted in his bed, the curtains blacking out the sun outside.

“Did we ever have children?”

You’re rubbing your stomach and there’s something caught in his throat and he has to cough to clear it.

“We didn’t. You did. Sometimes.”

You look up at him and frown. “With my true match?”

Baekhyun heaves a sigh so deep it hurts his chest. “With him, yes.”

You pause. “Was it the same guy? Same… soul, I guess?”

Baekhyun nods slowly, his heart sinking, but you don’t ask anything more, you just lie your head on his shoulder.

He wonders what you’re thinking, wonders where it branches off from here. He’s been here so many times before. He feels more tired than he should.

But instead of asking more questions or storming out crying or any of the things you’d done after you’d found out, you start to snore softly, curled up next to him.

Baekhyun wonders idly if he’ll be able to sleep, but he’s drifting off before he’s even completed the thought.

When he wakes, you’re gone, and he scrambles out of bed in his boxers to pace around the house. He can feel you aren’t around and it’s like a hole in his chest. It’s always been that way, he knows when you’re close and when you’re not, and you must be miles away because now, there’s nothing.

When he checks his phone you’ve texted that you’ll be back with food. He’s shocked that it’s nearly noon, it hadn’t even been sunset when he’d dozed off.

Perhaps immortals can be just as bone tired as mortals, sometimes. After a dozen lifetimes of fighting, he doesn’t know why he’s surprised.

He waits for you, sitting on the couch and idly flipping through the channels, and he thinks about when it all ends. His father had moved on, had no one worshipping his name anymore, and it isn’t as if school children are learning much about Eros, Cupid relegated to only one day out of a year with awful sour sweet candy and paper mache hearts. He’s stored his bow a few hundred miles away, hoping that this lifetime he wouldn’t need it, hadn’t actually found a true match for anyone but you in centuries.

Baekhyun wonders, with no real sense of urgency or fear, if this is the last lifetime. There’s a kind of exhaustion he’s never felt before that seems to weigh him down, and he’s finding it hard to care about anything but you. He hopes it happens before you pass, before the curse ends your life too young and too violently. He wants to move on and set you free, because he knows he can’t resist you for more than a couple of lifetimes. He’s tried too many times and failed.

You return bright eyed and with half a dozen books and a notebook, a pen pinched between your teeth.

At your urging he goes out to the car and brings in the breakfast you’d bought and you spread your books across the table.

“Greek and Roman Mythology for Dummies.” He reads aloud, laughing, and you look up at him from the floor and frown.

“Don’t judge me, this is all new to me.”

He holds up his hands. “Not judging. What’s all this for?”

“I’m going to find a way to end the curse, of course.”

Baekhyun sits down hard on the couch. “Oh.”

“What does that mean?” You demand, your nose scrunching up just a little.

He can’t help but smile at you, and he shrugs.

No reason to shoot down your hopes. Not yet, at least.

Four hours later, your eyes red rimmed from staring at books and your laptop screen, you jump onto the couch and into his lap.

“I found it!” You screech, and kiss all over his face.

Baekhyun smiles, kisses you back, and you make love there on the couch. You want to be bent over, his hand on the small of your back to keep you over the couch arm, up on your tiptoes and making a little grunting noise every time he thrusts into you.

Baekhyun may be exhausted after all this time but he never gets tired of this. He never gets tired of you.

Your moans are muffled in the couch cushions but he hears his name, the one he always uses with you, ever since you were Angelica and that hunter’s arrow had pinned you to the ground.

Baekhyun is tired. He’s tired in a way he’s sure no human ever could be. He’s tired of all the times he’s lost you, to your true match and then worse, to death, and he’s tired of living them over and over again.

But when you stand up, twist his face to kiss him, your eyes bright when you grin against his mouth, he thinks that it’s all been worth it.

You’re always worth it, and the thought of getting to meet you again, another you, is all it takes for him to keep going.

It takes a few months to get the time off work, match up travel plans, and get supplies.

Supplies meaning mostly travel gear and light clothes and a passport, the place you need to get to is high up on a cliffside in Northern Greece.

Baekhyun’s supportive enough, you guess, but you feel a bit nervous about his lack of excitement when you’re finally there, in Greece, at a gorgeous resort near the cliffside. Money hadn’t been a problem. Apparently when you’re immortal you manage to accrue a bit of savings.

“Aren’t you happy? Doesn’t this feel like home?”

Baekhyun laughs, loud and open, for what seems like the first time since you’d found out.

“This isn’t my home, stellina. I’m older than Greece.’

You blink, shocked. “But you are Eros.”

He nods. “I’m Eros, and Cupid, and Ishtar, and Kuni. Many gods and goddesses, different names. My duty and purpose was always the same, but I’ve never had a home. Except with you.”

He brushes your cheek with his nose and you sigh, hate that the way he says that so simply, as if it’s the whole truth, makes your heart clench.

“Still, you remember being here.”

Baekyun nods, staring out at the sea, reliving some life you only half remember.

You don’t ask many more questions, at least not until the next day when Baekhyun is listlessly pulling on his clothes and you’re tugging at his hands, excited, wanting to hurry and have this curse looming over your head end, so that you can stop thinking about it.

“Why aren’t you happier about this?” You pout, but you quiet when he looks up at you, his usually warm brown eyes dull and exhausted.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” You ask, softer now.

Baekhyun shrugs. “Some.”

Then he grins at you and there’s a flicker of life in his eyes. “I’m a very old man, you know. I need my rest.”

It makes you laugh, makes you forget, and you don’t think of it again until you’re hiking up the trail, about an hour’s long journey to reach the top.

He’s behind you by a few hundred feet and you frown at him, waiting until he reaches you. You’ve never seen him out of breath.

You take his hand, tug him further up the trail but it’s only a few moments before he stops, bracing himself on a tree near the trail.

“Stop,” he wheezes, and you do, tilting your head at him in confusion.

“Baekhyun, we have to-”

“Just stop,” He insists, and you’d think he was angry if his voice weren’t shaking.

“Why? What’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?” You fire off at him, moving closer, and he shakes his head.

You take his chin in your hand and force him to look at you.

His brown eyes are still as tired as earlier, and wet now, too.

“I don’t want to do this again,” he manages hoarsely.

You take a step back. “Have we done this before? Have we been here before?”

Baekhyun doesn’t answer, but there’s a truth in his silence.

Your eyes begin to well with tears. “So what? Maybe this time it’ll work, maybe this is different-”

“It’s not different. In France you were called Jacqueline and we came here. You read books about it, forced me here just like you did this time. You were so certain it had worked.”

You shake your head but he keeps talking.

“You were so certain that after a couple of months, I was certain too. Three months later, there was a bus accident.” His voice breaks and he’s quiet again and you feel like you can’t breathe properly for the ache in your throat.

“We don’t know that will happen again.”

“I know!” He bursts out. “I know it will happen because it does, over and over again! Listen, we should go back to the hotel. I can get my bow out of storage and-”

“No!” You cry, stalking over to him. “No, that’s not the way to fix this.”

Baekhyun laughs bitterly, and he won’t look at you. “There’s no way to fix this.”

“You don’t know that,” you say stubbornly. “Whoever I’ve been in the past, I’ve never been this person, and I know I can fix it.”

He pushes himself away from the tree as if it takes effort to do it. “You always say that,” he says, and he doesn’t sound angry anymore, just tired.

You’re angry, heat rushing through your veins, and you don’t know if it’s at him or the fact that some ancient curse has decided to come through your life like a brushfire.

You push at him and he doesn’t fight back, doesn’t even keep you from pushing him against the tree.

“You don’t care, is that it? You’re what, bored of this? You want to get your bow so you can get rid of me?”

His jaw tightens and he looks away from you. “Maybe I do.”

You push him again and he has nowhere to go, backed up against the tree so he just takes it, stands there.

“Coward.” You spit. “You’d rather match me with someone else. You’d rather let someone else-”

“Stop it,” he says, something like a warning in his voice and you want to laugh or cry or both.

“Look at you. You can’t even hear me say it, but you’re going to marry me off like some 14th century child bride-”

“I’m not-” Baekhyun huffs, then stops, runs his hand through his hair. “He’s your true match. You… you always love him, when you meet him.” He struggles with the last sentence but he maintains eye contact, jaw working.

“Fuck my true match. And fuck you if that’s your answer to this.” You rage.

He doesn’t speak. “You’re always happy when you find him.” His voice is weak and it sounds like a weak excuse to your ears and you’re shaking with anger and fear.

You have this memory, sudden and sharp like a knife.

You're in this stone room, an inn you think, and you're half asleep but you can hear a low murmur from the room. It's familiar, from your traveling companion of the last few weeks.

His name is on your lips as you sit up but he's pacing around the room, not paying any attention to you. The way he's talking to himself makes you worried.

"You have to do this. You have to, you know you do," he mutters and there's something liquid in his voice.

Suddenly he slaps himself across the face and you yelp his name, stand up to take his wrist in your hand.

"Baekhyun," you whisper. "What are you doing?"

His face is flushed and his eyes look so tired, so worn, like he's lived a thousand years.

"I'm sorry I woke you," he manages, pulling away from your touch as if you'd burn him.

A few days later, his hands are shaking when he draws his bow, and your eyes are on him instead of your true match.

"Wh-what if you miss?" You whisper.

Baekhyun smiles but he won't look at you. "I don't miss."

He doesn't, but part of you wishes he had.

The memory just makes you angrier, makes you want to push him again.

“Am I? And what about you? What about you, Baek, are you happy without me? Are you happy giving me away?”

He scoffs, finally looking at you.

“No, really. Tell me. You must be happy giving me away because you want to do it so badly-”

“I hate it!” He bursts out. “I fucking hate it, every single time. I hate the way you look at him. I even hate how happy he makes you. I should be happy giving you away so that you can be safe, so that you can have the family that you want, but I fucking hate it.”

“Why do you hate it?” You demand to know, tears streaming down your face.

“You know-” he starts and you shake your head.

“I need you to tell me.”

Baekhyun puffs out his cheeks, he does that when he’s frustrated, when he wants to scream but you don’t have time to think about how cute it is right now.

“I hate it because I love you. I hate it because whoever your true match is, you’re mine.” He says, finally, heaving in a deep breath and exhaling slowly.

“Because I’m yours,” you parrot back at him, and his mouth opens, brows furrowed in a frown.

He takes a step toward you, now, but you don’t back away, and you don’t flinch when he takes your hips in his hands, tugs you toward him, claiming your mouth.

You claw at him, can’t help yourself and you don’t care that brambles are scratching your legs when he lies you down on the ground, don’t care because he’s panting your name into your ear, your name, not all those previous yous. You don’t care because you’ve chosen him, despite whatever the gods had determined to be your “true match.”

“We have to do this,” you tell him as you’re adjusting your clothes and he’s still lying there, panting.

He nods, as if humoring you, but he isn’t as listless when he starts back up the trail with you, keeping up with you and stealing kisses and making small talk.

You’re sweating by the time the two of you reach the top of the mountain, and when you look back, Baekhyun has fallen behind a bit, struggling up the hill.

You startle when thunder cracks overhead, sudden and close, but you walk back down the path to him, put your hand on his arm and he’s trembling.

“We’ve never made it this far,” he says, voice hoarse. “I don’t know what will happen next.”

“We don’t ever know what happens next, Baekhyun, but you know what happens when we don’t.”

Baekhyun shakes his head. “Not if you let me get my arrows, we can stop all of this, we can-”

“No!” You yell. “No, shut up about that, I can make my own choices!”

You tug on his arm and he stumbles forward only a few steps before stopping again and you can see the circle of stones at the top of the hill, where you’re supposed to stand according to the legends, and you haven’t done weeks of research and travelled across the world for nothing.

You take his hand in yours, squeeze, and look into his eyes.

“It’s okay,” you promise, and you have no idea what’s about to happen and it’s raining now, cold against your skin, but you know that you have to do this.

Baekhyun looks at you and there’s nothing in his eyes but fear and uncertainty but you tug at his hand again anyway and this time he follows without resistance.

It happens so quickly after that.

You step into the circle first, and he pauses, hesitating before breaking the barrier by stepping over one of the irregular stones. The second he does, lightning cracks above your head and you cry out, frightened.

Baekhyun grabs you out of instinct or some desire to protect you and you go down, scraping your elbows against the rock and sand as you try to catch yourself. Baekhyun puts his hands on either side of your head and it’s raining so hard that it’s all you can hear, that and the thunder, and there’s lightning everywhere, lighting up his features as he looks down at you.

“I was never strong enough to do this before,” he says, nearly yelling over the storm. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t-”

He’s cut off by another crack of lightning and he seems to be… lighting up, somehow, some glow that you think is from the lightning but then you see it’s coming from inside him. He arches his back, his face lined with pain and you realize something’s happening, something bad but when you reach up to touch him, he’s giving off so much heat that the tips of your fingers burn.

“Baek,” you whisper, and he manages to focus on you again. When he does, his face… it isn’t his face, but somehow you recognize it anyway and it keeps changing, cycling through all the lifetimes you’ve shared together.

“I’ve been so many things,” he says, and his voice is strong even over the chaos. “but I’ve always been yours.”

He manages to touch his forehead to yours and you’re terrified by the storm and what’s happening and especially how it seems to pain him to even move, how he’s glowing brighter and brighter until your eyes start watering.

He says your name but it’s your name and Jacqueline and Eva and Yui and so many others, all wrapped into one, and kisses you, the bright light coming from him forcing your eyes shut as he gets closer.

When you open them, there’s no sound of the rain or thunder and the ground under you is dry, as if you’d imagined it all.

But you can taste the rainwater in your mouth. You can still taste him there, too, but he’s gone.

You scramble up, yelling out his name and there’s nothing, just the sound of the birds in the trees. Moments before, the sky had been black, but now it’s sunny again.

You don’t realize you’re crying until you feel the tears running down your throat as you stumble down the path.

You’re sobbing by the bottom of the path because there’s nothing, no evidence he was even there at all. You’re remembering what he said, how he said you’d never been that far before, but you’re wondering if he’d known, anyway.

You’re wondering if breaking the curse means that he has to die and how all of this is your fault your fault your fault.

There’s a sound in the woods and you barely realize it until there’s a man standing next to you.

“Miss? Are you all right?”

You sniffle, looking up at him, and your breath catches in your throat.

It’s Baekhyun, just the same, wearing the wet and sandy clothes he’d been wearing just a few moments ago, but something’s wrong and you can’t rush to him like you want to.

“Baekhyun?”

He rubs the back of his neck, smiles a little sheepishly. “Is that my name? I seem to have forgotten it. I think… I think I got lost.”

You think about how this feels, how there’s not a single light of recognition in his eyes and it feels like your chest has cracked wide open. You think about how he must have felt this, over and over again, and understand why he didn’t want you to have to feel it.

You take a deep, shaky breath and wipe at your eyes with the heels of your hands.

“You’re not lost,” you tell him, and take his hand.

Baekhyun looks down at your hand in his and then back up to you, a smile breaking across his face. “No, doesn’t seem like it anymore.”

You’re trying not to cry as you lead him back to the resort when he stops and you turn back to look at him.

“I know this might seem like an odd question, but… have we met before?”

It hurts but you crack a smile anyway, remembering how he’d done this for you over and over, remembering what he’d said to you a few months ago.

“Maybe in another life.”

#supermnet #noonasinnetwork #byun baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x reader #super m imagine #exo imagone #baekhyun imagine

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thatshithurted8 · 4 years ago

Text

Kiss Cam

Summary: Rafe takes reader out on a date to see her first ever hockey game. However, feelings are revealed when they are shown on the jumbotron for the kiss cam.

Pairing: Rafe x !PogueReader!

Word Count: 4.1k

Flashbacks are in italics!

A/N I know Rafe is a horrible character and person in the show, but he has so much potential for character development and I love Drew. So I decided to write a fluffy fic to show off Rafe’s soft side that he doesn’t show often.

Never in a million years would you believe anyone if they told you a year ago that you would have a massive crush on Rafe Cameron. You would simply laugh in their face and walk away. However, that all changed one night when you were working a night shift at the 24 hour diner.

You internally groan to yourself when you come out from the kitchen after cleaning up the empty tables. Sitting in a booth on the other side of the diner was Topper, Kelce and Rafe.

Normally this wouldn’t be a problem. After all the diner was 24 hours, but you didn’t want to deal with the spoiled Kooks and the shit they tended to pull. You walk over to the only occupied table in the quiet diner with a closed mouth smile on your face as you pull out your note pad from your apron.

“Hey guys what can I get for you guys to drink?” You ask, causing the three boys to look at you. They were all intoxicated and were wanting something to eat to ease their late night munchies.

“We don’t need anything to drink Y/N.” Topper says putting a half empty bottle of vodka on the table in front of him, causing him and Kelce to snicker. Rafe would’ve laughed along with his friends, but he was starting to sober up and he was dreading going home as his father would ridicule him in the morning for ditching his responsibilities and partying instead.

You let out a sigh knowing the shit show has just begun. “Uh Topper you can’t bring outside drinks in here.”

The blond rolls his eyes and brings the bottle to his lips, letting the alcohol fall into his mouth and down his throat, before handing it to Kelce who does the same.

“If you aren’t going to respect the diners rules then I’m going to have to ask you guys politely to leave.” You say starting to get more annoyed by the second.

“Aweh come on Y/N lighten up and have some.” Topper slurs while waving the glass bottle in your face.

You open your mouth to ask them to leave, but Rafe beat you to it. “Topper fuck off and leave her alone.”

Both you and Topper furrow your eyebrows in confusion at the boys comment. You’ve never really spoken to Rafe before, but you know all about his notorious reputation so hearing him stand up for you left you dumbfounded. Anxiety was washing over Rafe and he was done with his friends immature tendencies for the night.

“Come on man we’re just having some fun.” Topper slurs.

Rafe didn’t want to be there and he could tell neither did you. “Let’s just go.” He says stepping out of the booth, his friends instinctively following him.

You watch as Kelce and Topper stumble to the exit while passing each other the bottle of vodka before looking back at Rafe who was opening up his wallet. Rafe pulls out sixty dollars and places it on the table despite the group of teens not ordering anything.

“For dealing with our bullshit.” He says looking at you with dilated eyes before walking out of the diner with his friends.

Ever since that night you and Rafe started to run into each other more and more often. It seemed like every party you would attend he would be there too and vice versa. Eventually one night you both started talking to each other, drunk out of your minds.

“Nice costume.” Rafe says sitting down beside you on the couch, refrencing your referee costume. You were wearing a long sleeve striped shirt with a helmet and all, the only thing you were missing were skates.

You look over at the boy beside you and smirk at what he was wearing. Rafe was wearing a North Carolina Hurricane jersey and was accompanied by a stick. A part of you was envious of the Kook beside you. Being a Pogue meant a lot of things, but mainly was that you didn’t come from wealth, nor did you have a lot of money. So seeing him wearing a jersey with your favourite hockey teams logo on it made you a tiny bit jealous. You’ve always wanted one, but jerseys were ridiculously expensive.

“Which player are you? Slavin? Staal? Aho? Fleury?” You ask naming off some of the players that play for the Canes.

Rafe’s eyes almost pop out of his head when he realizes you watch hockey. “You like the Canes too?”

You roll your eyes and move closer to Rafe due to the loud music. “Uh duh.”

With that being said you and Rafe Cameron spent the rest of the night talking about hockey and getting to know each other. It turned out that you two actually had a lot more in common than you initially thought. Rafe was also showing you a side of him that not a lot of people saw, but this only made you realize that you judged the misunderstood boy too soon.

After the Halloween party at Kelce’s, Rafe would show up to the diner more often just to see you. He eventually would ask you to hang out and watch the Canes play on his flat screen tv at his house. Since you were such a big fan of the Hurricanes you couldn’t turn down his offer, especially knowing the reception at your house wasn’t good so you couldn’t watch it there. Both yours and Rafe’s love for the sport led to him surprising you one night.

“Come on come on!” You yell standing in front of the tv. Rafe stayed sitting on the couch leaning forward while watching you and the screen.

You two watch intently as a player on the Boston Bruins skated towards your goalie in a breakaway, two Hurricane players speeding after him in desperation to get the puck out of his possession.

However, they were too late as the Bruins player shoots the puck and scores, winning the game in overtime.

“Fuck this shit!” You groan walking back to the couch and collapsing dramatically beside Rafe.

Rafe also sits back in defeat, but he wasn’t as nearly as upset as you were. That mainly had to do with the surprise he had for you. “Aweh it’s okay Y/N they’ll beat em next time.” Rafe coos leaning over and wrapping his arms around you, but you push his arms away sulking.

“I fucking hate the Bruins!” You exclaim standing up to go on another rant about how much you despised the team. Rafe was all too familiar with your rant about your least favourite team in the league, but he would never stop you from venting. After all, he thought it was so cute how worked up you got about hockey.

After getting to know you Rafe realized that he was starting to catch feelings for you which said a lot considering he didn’t feel much anymore. It scared him at first when his palms would get sweaty or his stomach would flutter whenever he was around you, but he realized all he wanted was to see you happy. Which leads to the surprise he had planned for you.

“I know what will cheer you up. Stay here.” Rafe says standing up and grabbing the empty popcorn bowl.

You sit back down on the couch with a huff while you waited for the boy you were starting to fall for to return. However, your thoughts were clouded by the game that just happened. It made you frustrated since they were so close to winning and the team you hated most were the ones to win instead.

Rafe walks back into the living room without the popcorn bowl and his hands behind his back. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, thinking he was just going to get you more popcorn to cheer you up.

The brunette walks over to you and sits back down. You look at him expectantly as he shows you what is behind his back. Your eyes instantly widen and your mouth falls open. In between Rafe’s fingers were two tickets to a North Carolina Hurricane game.

“Surprise!” He says gracing a rare smile on his lips.

“No fucking way!” You scream, covering your mouth. Good thing you two were the only ones home or Ward would have your head for being so loud.

Rafe hands the tickets to you causing your breath to hitch in shock. “You’re playing with me.” You say looking down at the tickets in your hands then back up at Rafe.

He smirks and shakes his head. “I know you’ve never been to a game and have wanted to always go.”

You quickly place the tickets to your first ever NHL game on the coffee table before tackling the boy in front of you, causing him to laugh and his heart to skip a beat at the touch.

“Thank you so much Rafe.” You say before placing a soft kiss on his cheek then sitting back up to examine the tickets with admoration.

A week and a half has gone by and the day you have been anticipating for has finally come. Currently you and Rafe were trying to find a parking spot at PNC Arena. You two left early that morning from the Outer Banks ensuring you guys would get there early that way you could look around.

Rafe finally finds a parking spot and grabs a back pack from the back seat after he parks. You watch as he pulls out two Canes jerseys one for you and one for him.

“It’s a little big, but you can’t go to a hockey game and not wear a jersey.” He says passing one of his jerseys to you. You blush and your heart skips a beat at Rafe’s sweet gesture.

You both put the jerseys on and you put on your Hurricane beanie, the only memorabilia you did own before getting out of his truck. After locking the truck Rafe turns to look at you, his hat flipped backwards and he couldn’t stop the thoughts running through his mind. You looked so good wearing his jersey, but he wondered what you would look like wearing it with nothing underneath?

He shakes the dirty thoughts out of his head as you two start to walk towards the doors of the arena. Your excitement was practically radiating off of you with every step you took. Rafe loved how happy you were, especially knowing it was because of him.

Earlier that morning before he picked you up, Rafe was debating on hitting a line to ease his nerves, but he ultimately decided against it. Simply because he doesn’t want you to see that side of him. The side of him that everyone gossiped about. The side of him that made him the black sheep of the Cameron family. The side of him that made him a fuck up with no future.

You guys go through security pretty quickly, but Rafe could tell your mood faltered slightly when you saw the crowded hallways of the arena. Despite being early there were still large crowds of people walking around, trying to find their seats.

“Here hold my hand.” He says bending down to your ear so you could hear over the loud chatter of Canes fans and Tampa Bay fans alike.

Your guys’ hands intertwine, causing heat to rush to your face. His hand was so big and rough in contrast to yours, but you liked it. As you two walk around the arena and through crowds of people Rafe runs his thumb softly on your skin in a soothing motion.

After walking around the large arena for a bit you find a photo booth and you instantly drag Rafe over to it, causing the tall boy to groan. You push the curtain out of the way, stepping in with Rafe following after you.

“Was this made for a child? Holy shit.” He remarks noticing how small the seat was. Both of you couldn’t fit on it which resorted in Rafe pulling you onto his lap, causing the butterflies in your stomach to flutter.

You click a few buttons and enter in a two dollar bill despite Rafe’s objections of paying for the picture stub. The camera starts to count down from 3 and you wrap an arm around Rafe’s neck.

“Silly face!” You exclaim, sticking out your tongue and crossing your eyes. Rafe copies you and sticks his tongue out, but he turns his head making it look like he was about to lick your cheek. The camera flashes signalling the first picture was taken.

Rafe pulls you closer to him as the camera counts down again. Just before the camera flashes he licks your cheek causing you to start laughing while trying to wipe his saliva off of you.

“Rafe!” You exclaim while laughing, realizing that was the second picture.

He simply shrugs his shoulders with a smile on his face then turns his attention to the camera that was counting down. Without hesitating you turn your head and place one of your hands on the other side of his face. You place your lips softly on his flushed cheek as the camera flashes, taking the third picture.

Deciding to copy you Rafe does the same thing as the last picture, except he was kissing your cheek this time. After the fourth picture was taken he pulls away, but you two stare into each others eyes, both flustered by what you two just did.

Your eyes glance down to his lips then back to his eyes. Rafe slowly moves in and so do you to the point your lips are inches away from each other and his minty breath was fanning against your mouth.

Just as you were about to eliminate the distance between you two the camera flashes, taking the last picture, causing you to turn your attention to the slot that the pictures come out of.

You reach forward, your arm still wrapped around Rafe’s shoulders and pick up the freshly printed pictures. Both of you analyze the pictures which made your hearts skip a beat at the same time. You put the photo stubs into your purse before getting out of the photo booth and entangling your hands again.

As you two walk around the arena, exploring while the smell of popcorn and cotton candy filled your senses, Rafe noticed you eyeing a stuffed animal every time you guys walked by a merchandise stand. He finally pulls you over towards one and picks up the stuffed animal.

“Do you want one?” He asks handing the plushy of the teams mascot, Stormy over to you.

You smile down at the stuffed animal in your hands, but you put it back onto the display stand with wide eyes once you saw the price. Forty dollars just for a stuffed animal, it was ridiculous. You had other expenses to take care of back at home. You couldn’t go around spending your money every time you wanted something, even though you wished you could.

Rafe furrows his eyebrows and picks it back up, looking at the price before walking over to the cash register.

“Rafe it’s too expensive I’ll find something cheaper.” You say pulling him towards you before he could get to the check out.

“You’ve been eyeing this ever since we got here. I’ll just buy it for you.” He says turning back around, but you stop him again. Him noticing the little things made you blush, but you weren’t going to allow him to buy it for you. He’s already spent a shit ton of money on you with getting the tickets and gas to the arena.

“No it’s okay.” You say trying to grab it from him to put it back, but he simply raises it above your head. You groan and step onto your tipy toes to try and grab it, but he just raises it higher, an amused smile present on his face.

The brunette walks over to the check out with the stuffed animal over his head while you continue to try to grab it from him. However, your attempts fail and Rafe ends up spending forty dollars on a stuffed animal for you.

He hands it to you with a satisfied smile on his face, but you try your best to pretend you were annoyed that he didn’t listen. After all you didn’t want him spending his money on you. However, Rafe looked so happy with his actions that you weren’t going to put up a stink.

“Thank you.” You say softly then hugging the stuffed animal of the ice hog.

“Anything for you.” Rafe says before he grabs your hand and you two continue to walk around. You spot Stormy the ice hog aka the teams mascot aka the life size version of your new stuffed animal. You squeal and speed walk over to the person wearing the costume, while dragging a laughing Rafe.

You hand your phone over to Rafe and walk over to Stormy. You wrap your arms around the fuzzy mascot while looking at the camera with a smile going from ear to ear. Rafe snaps a few pictures, but seeing you smile like that made his heart race.

After your photo op with Stormy you walk over to Rafe while a little kid runs into the mascots arms. “Lets get a picture together.” You say before asking a middle aged lady to take a photo of you two.

Rafe wraps his arm around you and you place one of your hands on his chest. You two smile into the camera before retrieving your phone back from the nice lady.

“Thank you.” You say smiling to her.

“You guys are a cute couple.” She says looking between you two then walking away.

Both you and Rafe blush and heat washes over your guys bodies. However, you quickly distract yourself from the sensation by looking at the pictures that were taken. The first picture was both of you smiling at the camera, causing you to smile at how cute Rafe looked. The second picture you were smiling into the camera, your hand still on Rafe’s chest. However, he was looking down at you with love and admiration. Which only made your heart beat faster.

The second period was about to end and Carolina was down by two. This didn’t make Rafe happy whatsoever especially since the referees were clearly favouring the other team. It was sort of comedic seeing Rafe so angry considering you were usually the one to get emotionally invested in the games. But seeing Rafe get so angry and worked up made you feel a certain type of way.

The buzzer goes off signalling the end of the second period. As players skate off of the ice and fans go to get food and use the wash room an exasperated Rafe cups his hands around his mouth while standing.

“Hey ref’s are you pregnant? Cause you missed two periods!” The boy yells at the refs getting off of the ice before sitting back down beside you annoyed. You and the fans around you guys start to laugh at his comment. Hearing your laugh makes Rafe feel better and shortly after a small smile is present on his face.

“I’ve never seen you so upset over a game.” You say to him.

“Well the refs are making shitty calls and besides I want them to win for my girl.” He says looking around the arena and placing his large hand on your thigh.

My girl. The butterflies in your stomach seem to be doing somersaults at his words. Too flustered to say anything you simply place your head on Rafe’s shoulder, inhaling his scent while playing with his fingers.

The loud music in the arena lowers causing both of you to direct your attention to the jumbotron that was flashing every colour or the rainbow.

“And now ladies and gentlemen, it’s time for the kiss cam!” The announcer says throughout the speakers.

Rafe snuggles closer to you as the kiss cam falls onto an elderly couple. The husband didn’t notice he was being filmed and being put onto display in front of thousands of people before his wife pointed out the jumbotron.

The two kiss, causing the crowd to cheer and hoot for the older couple. You smile at this, hoping that one day you can find a love that is as lasting as theirs.

The next couple the kiss cam lands on is two young adults. Both of them notice right away and the crowd cheers them on. However, they both shake their heads in disgust while the guy mouths “She’s my sister.” This causes the crowd and both you and Rafe to laugh.

As you both watch intently for the camera to land on it’s next target your stomach drops when you see you and Rafe being projected onto the large screen.

You lift your head off of Rafe’s shoulder then look at him while laughing comfortably. A nervous smile is plastered across Rafe’s face, but as the crowds cheering gets louder the boy beside you starts to lean in.

The crowd goes crazy seeing your lips just mere inches from each other. You both stare into each others eyes, the shouting around you drowning out. Despite being in front of a crowd of thousands of people it felt like it was just you and Rafe.

“Can I?” He asks looking down at your lips before meeting your gaze once again.

You simply nod your head yes and Rafe wastes no time in placing his lips onto yours. The crowd erupts with more screams, cheers and wolf whistles. You kiss him back, placing your hand on his shoulder.

The kiss was soft, but yet so passionate and so telling of how each other felt. You’re the first to pull away, the camera still focused on you two. Without any hesitation you lean in kissing Rafe once again.

This time the kiss was deeper and Rafe caresses his hand against your cheek. The crowd cheers one last time before the camera moves onto it’s next unsuspecting victims. Rafe swipes his tongue along your bottom lip and you gladly give him access to your mouth, allowing the kiss to become deeper. However, you both pull away for a breath of air. Your guys’ surroundings set in as you do this.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for awhile.” Rafe says truthfully, sitting back and placing his hand back onto your thigh.

“Me too.” You softly say resting your head back onto his shoulder with a warm heart.

Rafe knew it was going to be a long day considering he had to drive three hours to the hockey arena and another three hours back to the cut and figure eight. Although, he didn’t expect you to pass out basically right away. After all, you spent a lot of time working night shifts at the diner.

With you being fast asleep it gave Rafe a lot of time to think to himself and he came to a lot of realizations. For starters he didn’t know if he was comfortable that you worked basically by yourself so late at night most of the times.

This worried him because the diner you worked at was a hangout place for both Pogues and Kooks alike, which means any one could walk in without seeming out of place. That being said Rafe’s anxious mind made him come up with a scenerio in his head where Barry would walk into the diner late at night, realize you were friends with him and do something to you since he still hasn’t payed him back.

But every time an intrusive thought slithered it’s way into his mind you would stir in your seat, causing Rafe to redirect his attention to you then back to the road. It was like you were trying to tell him to stop overthinking things.

After three hours of listening to the radio and his thoughts Rafe finally turns off of the highway and drives into Outer Banks. He stops at a stop light, the red light illuminating your face in the dark.

Rafe couldn’t help but admire you. You looked so peaceful resting your head against the window, while cuddling the stuffed animal he bought you. Rafe moves his thumb across your thigh in a soothing manner, but instantly hisses when the car behind him honks.

The brunette steps on the gas since the light turned green, but he makes sure to give the car behind him the finger. He didn’t want them waking you up.

With just a few minutes left in the car ride Rafe comes to one final realization for the night.

He was in love with you.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron smut #outerbanks #outerbanks imagine #drew starkey #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey icons #netflix #sarah cameron #kiara carrera #pope heyward #jj maybank #john b routledge #jj maybank imagine

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firefly-in-darkness · 4 years ago

Text

Worst Idea Ever [Part Four]

Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes, Other Marvel Characters.

Series Summary → Wedding Season is brutal as it is but throw in two friends that decide to be each other’s plus ones and a mixed bag of feelings, what’s the worst that could happen?

Part FourSummary → Y/N takes Bucky to a place from her past, meeting people that he never imagined Y/N to be friends with and someone else from her past tries to come back into her life.

Word Count → 3k.

Part Two Warnings → 18+, swearing, angst, jealousy, illusion to sexy things. Two idiots.

Beta → @kalesrebellion // all mistakes are my own.

Series Taglist → Open, just drop me an ask!

A/N → And once again, I wrote the first draft and left it in my docs like I’d posted it... thank you @whitestarbucky for being late to the party and reminding me that I actually hadn’t posted it.

Series List // Marvel List // Masterlist

Previously in Part Three: He sunk back into the pillow, his hand dragging down his face. Bucky wasn’t sure what the billionaire genius was referring to, but he felt guilty for whatever Y/N had to witness of him and Jackie. He thought going home with someone else would help quash his feelings but now that he was sober, he knew that it was a stupid idea. He only felt guilt and remorse for what had happened the previous night.

Hooking up with a woman in front of Y/N was the worst idea ever.

The breeze from the rental car window was just enough to keep Y/N alert as she drove the last stretch of their five-hour journey, well maybe a bit longer if you counted going through the whole airport process. Y/N had felt tense the second she met Bucky at JFK and the thought of being confined to a small space that was thousands of feet in the air.

Y/N didn’t want to talk about how things had become uncomfortable after Peter and Gwen’s rehearsal dinner. She was embarrassed but she also had avoided the subject completely when she met him the next day for the wedding. Bucky’s familial duties took him away from her which, to her benefit, meant that she hardly saw him.

The celebration was enjoyable but there was an annoying voice in the back of her head telling her to talk to Bucky about everything. But she couldn’t, he was her friend of over a decade. Plus, now that they were on their way to another wedding, it had already been three weeks since they last saw each other.

Bucky had probably forgotten about the incident, and he was too drunk to see that he and Jackie hurt her. She should just brush it under the carpet, right?

The journey wasn’t as bad as Y/N thought; she was able to lose herself in her book or the music playlist that Nat had sent to her a few days ago. ‘Perfect for long journeys’, she’d said. All the while, Bucky lounged in the seat beside her, reading on his kindle or chatting about the usual nonsense that was his dating life.

It was as if nothing had happened, nothing had changed, and Y/N knew that she was just overthinking the possibility of them crossing the line of friendship. It was only a side effect of their fake dating arrangement and being in romantically charged places.

The motel parking lot gravel crunched under the tyres as Y/N pulled in. Relief flooded her and she sluggishly climbed out, stretching her arms high and shaking out her legs. The freedom from the cramped space behind the wheel didn’t alleviate heaviness in her muscles and all that she craved was a nap.

Bucky headed to the reception to pick up the key, and within minutes they were able to access the room, and Y/N instantly flopped face-first onto the bed. Kicking her shoes off and shuffling up the mattress, she pulled the side of the duvet and rolled over into a cocoon and let the nap take hold of her.

Bucky clambered through the door with Y/N’s luggage as well as his own, muttering to himself about her being a lazy pain in his ass. But when he saw her peacefully sleeping form on the bed, he couldn’t help but smile. The way she had cocooned herself in the covers, and how her soft snores puffed out her lips; it was adorable.

Then the guilt reared its head. He’d tried to approach the subject of the rehearsal dinner at the airport but from the tension in her body and the intense focus on reading her book, he knew that she wouldn’t talk. She was embarrassed, and he would have been too if he’d been caught with a sex toy at a rehearsal dinner.

Deep down, he knew something else was bothering Y/N. She was too focused on the road ahead instead of listening to his woeful attempts at dating. His thoughts kept reverting to the moment he kicked Jackie out after awaking to Y/N’s text messages; he felt like he’d upset Y/N, disappointed her but wasn’t that what this was all about? They were being one another’s company until they found someone they wanted to date. That’s what this was.

Since Peter’s wedding, fond moments Bucky had shared with Y/N had started to dance behind his eyes. Their shared memories from over the years playing on repeat at night. Making breakfast together while the rest of their friends groaned about their hangovers in the other room, the candid way she’d grab his prosthetic arm and he always felt a rush of warmth when he realised that once again, it didn’t bother her.

That was before all the technological adaptations to connect to his nervous system. She touched his arm like it was real. And once those adaptations were made, Bucky felt her tender touch and the soft skin of her palm. He felt at ease, calm, at peace even, with her compared to the rest of the people in his life, the world. He was whole with her.

A horn blasted in the parking lot and caught Bucky’s attention before he refocused on Y/N’s sleeping form. Bucky wasn’t sure about his feelings anymore, and he couldn’t tell if it was because of their pact or whether Y/N felt something more. He could be just imagining it. She had never judged him, had always been by his side at college.

They were partners in crime, as thick as thieves. And since then, they’d drifted into a more casual friendship but maybe there could be something there. Stop it. He berated and carried on unloading the car, focused intently on collecting their belongings.

Y/N felt better than before but she still felt drowsy, and the flickering television showing an old western film lulled her further into the bed. Absentmindedly, she pulled Bucky’s arm around her shoulder and nuzzled into his chest. The smell of his cologne added to the comfort she already found herself in, then she realised what she had done.

Now that she was there, she didn’t know what to do, she was frozen in place. She could remove her arms from his waist, or maybe pretend she was still asleep and roll away again. The embarrassment tingled at her cheeks and the feel of his toned stomach under her forearm made her core ache with want. She snapped out of it when she felt Bucky shuffle away from her.

“Erm, what are you doing?” Bucky frowned at her, seriousness in his features.

“It’s just a hug, I’m half asleep, chill out.” Y/N pretended to not let the hurt of rejection show and put it back onto Bucky, “Do you not like cuddles or something?”

Bucky unfurled his arm and shook his head at her, “I don’t wanna cuddle you.”

Y/N sighed dramatically and flopped back onto bed dramatically, “Fine, don’t crawl over to me when it gets cold in here tonight.”

Bucky had lied, he did like cuddles. He wanted to cuddle Y/N with every fibre of his being. He didn’t want to get used to it, to the feel of Y/N’s warm body pressed against him, only to have it be taken away. He didn’t want to miss her touch once he had been graced with it. He wasn’t good enough for her, anything more than friendship wouldn’t work. It surely couldn't?

He turned off the television and decided to leave her to sleep in peace. He knew for certain that the next time she woke up, she’d be cranky because she hadn’t eaten. With the fear of Y/N throwing a tantrum like a two-year-old, he headed out into the town to find some food for the drama queen.

Bucky threw on his jacket and grabbed the keys, Y/N’s phone flashing drew his attention. A notification: an envelope with Dean bolded beside it. He knew that he wouldn’t read it, no matter how tempting the voices in the back of his head were telling him to see what had happened since Y/N and Dean’s rendezvous at Darcy’s wedding.

Bucky, annoyed at the taunting notification, he knew Y/N’s password, it was the same for everything and he’d constantly scolded her for that. But he’d never invade her privacy. And right now, he needed to get out of the room. It was stifling and it felt like the walls had closed in around him. Y/N’s soft snores had become irritating as the recurring feeling of jealousy took over and he stormed out of the room.

A group of large men covered in tattoos with long beards, unmistakably their Harleys resting in the parking bay out the front of the venue made Y/N feel like she was finally home. It wasn’t the usual aesthetic for a wedding reception and maybe Y/N should have warned Bucky. Where’s the fun in that? She thought as she reached the entrance, but Bucky was no longer beside her.

Y/N turned to find his confused face across the sidewalk, “Come on, we’re here.”

Bucky jogged over to her, he frowned as he read the sign on the wall, “Right, we are going to a bar called Hell House that used to be a Catholic boarding school for a wedding?”

“Yes, I told you, it’s for some dear friends from when I lived here.” She ushered him inside with a giggle. “I know my way around, just follow me.”

“You said you lived in a suburb,” Bucky muttered as he walked into the dimly lit bar.

The number of people dressed similarly to the men outside was growing tenfold and Y/N could feel the tension reeling off him. She knew he wouldn’t be scared, but probably surprised by the company she kept in her hometown. They were a different, very different group of friends to those she met at college.

“Hey Chocolate Puddin’!” Y/N screamed and threw her arms around the man wiping down a table. The man reciprocated with the usual awkward hug; not holding her too tightly in case Y/N clocked him one for feeling her up on accident again. She pulled away and gestured to her date. “And this is Bucky.”

He shook Bucky’s hand and introduced himself, “Weasel. This one just mocks me for not knowing what emojis mean.”

Y/N tugged on Bucky’s jacket to bring his ear closer and whispered, “He thought the poop emoji was chocolate ice cream or somethin’.”

“What can I get you to drink?” Weasel asked as he wiped the glasses and placed them on the bar.

“Blowjob!!” Another man shouted and spun Y/N around, pulling her away from the bar and out of Bucky’s hearing range. “Well, look at you Care Bear. Looking like a fuckable plushie.”

Weasel muttered under his breath and fixed the bailey and whipped cream shot while jealousy brewed in Bucky’s chest as he watched Y/N being picked up by the handsome man. He couldn’t react, how could he in a room full of giants and he’d hardly admitted his feelings to himself yet.

Instead, he clutched the bottle of beer that Weasel handed him. Y/N knew these people, if she didn’t want to be manhandled then she would have done something about it. And Bucky wasn’t sure why that annoyed him more; that she was more casual with affections or that she didn’t do this with him.

Bucky turned away for a second only to turn around to see a woman grabbing Y/N’s face and pushing their faces together in a smacking kiss. His mouth dropped agape, as the women giggled and hugged one another. He needed to talk to you about what kind of place you grew up in because this was not what he pictured.

“You get used to it.” Weasel commented and held up two crossed fingers, “those three are like that. Never known a throuple like it.”

Bucky frowned, “a what?”

“He’s messing with you Buck, he’s just jealous that he never got to tap any of us. Bucky, this is Wade and Vanessa.”

It then dawned on him that the man that ordered a blow job and the woman that snogged his fake date were the newlyweds. Vanessa was one of Y/N’s oldest friends from high school and had introduced her to Wade, but never explained how. Maybe the venue had something to do with it but now he was even more curious and a little less jealous.

The four of them drank round after round at a table that had been set aside for the special couple. The table didn’t look any different to the others apart from the fact that it was probably the cleanest and the only distinguishable feature was the folded piece of paper with the words ‘reservation for wade & ness’ scrawled on it.

“So how did you two meet?” Bucky asked the couple.

“Y/N and I went our separate ways after school.” Vanessa held out her hand on the table, Y/N immediately grabbing it. “One of us sold themselves to the world of men and the other became a stripper.”

Y/N cackled, and Bucky enjoyed the carefree nature that Y/N had around this pair. She was uninhibited and more herself than he’d seen in a long time. Growing up with someone is a different type of friendship with the ones you meet at college. Bucky’s mind drifted to Steve Rogers, his childhood friend and how they were practically brothers, always getting into trouble.

“Wade came in after finishing a job, courtesy of me.” Y/N dramatically placed her hand on her chest then looked at Bucky, “Oh right, you don’t know what Wade does for a living. So erm, basically he can be hired to help people with difficult situations rather than calling the police.”

Bucky paused and dropped the bottle onto the table with a thunk and immediately found Y/N’s eyes. He wasn’t sure where this story was going but he didn’t like the sound of it at all. Not one little bit.

“My ex was causing me some hassle and Wade gave him a little scare.” Y/N beamed through her drunkenness and turned back to the couple, “and because Wade came the next night to pay his merc fees, he met Ness.”

“Oh yeah, it was that douche, Francis. Francis. Stalker shit his pants when he saw me.” Wade barked out a laugh and turned to Vanessa, muttering words into her ear. The couple becoming completely lost in one another.

Bucky turned to Y/N, “Didn’t you date Francis in college?”

Y/N hiccupped and nodded, then vacated her seat before Bucky could respond. He watched her fiddle with the dials on the jukebox while he mulled over his thoughts; why hadn’t Y/N come to him or Sam about Francis?

He’d have to ask her when she was sober because there was no way he was going to get the information from her now or the newlyweds. They were almost tearing each other’s clothes off as they made out.

Y/N had finally picked a track and it boomed through the speakers. Her and a group of others dancing along to the beat. Bucky left the passionate display of intimacy and joined Y/N on the makeshift dance floor which was just some tables pushed to the side.

“Buckaroo!” She crooned and pulled him into a formal hold for such an upbeat song, “So who are we hooking you up with tonight?”

Bucky was completely surprised at her comment, he had hoped that she didn’t like what had happened on their last date and how it turned out with Jackie. Then again, Dean had text her earlier. He must have read this situation completely wrong, and he didn’t want her to know that. She couldn’t know how he felt, he wasn’t sure about it either. That’s what he kept telling himself.

He decided to play along and nod towards a young woman, “what about her?”

Y/N checked over his shoulder as they spun around the small space, she rolled her eyes at the sight of Hope Summers, “I don’t think that’s a good idea unless you want to get beaten up by her dad.”

He followed Y/N’s line of sight and spotted the man glaring at him as if he knew exactly what Bucky had thought or said about his daughter. He immediately shifted Y/N around, spinning her out and back in to avoid looking into the creepy old man’s death stare.

“I need a drink,” Y/N stopped dancing, gathering her breath.

Bucky led the way to the bar and Y/N happily held onto his hand until they were met with Weasel’s agitated face as he held the corded phone to his ear before placing the receiver to his chest.

“It’s for you.” He gestured to Y/N who rounded the bar with confusion etched across her face. Nobody who knew Hellhouse's number knew she was here or would be calling because they’re all here as far as she could tell.

Weasel kept his hand over the mouthpiece as she approached, “It’s Tyler.”

Y/N glanced to Bucky who sipped on his beer and talked to Neena, another of her high school friends that had ended up in similar work as Wade, she was nicknamed Lucky for all the ways she miraculously got out of tricky situations.

Bucky ducked closer to Neena’s, whispering into her ear and a wave of anger erupted in Y/N. She was done with being second best, Bucky was only doing this to meet other women. She wasn’t what he wanted.

Finally, she put the phone to her ear and prepared herself to listen to whatever her ex-boyfriend wanted to say. With a deep breath, she answered the call as coolly as she could.

Bucky turned back to the bar and saw the frustration on Y/N’s face growing, it wasn’t a pleasant phone call. Plus, surely, they would have rung her mobile. He scooted around the bar and approached Y/N, her back now turned from him and her fingers wrapped and unwrapped from the coil of the phone’s cord.

“Tyler, please just listen to me.” She hissed. “I am not interested. I’ve moved on.”

Bucky froze at Y/N’s words, when did she move on? And who had she moved onto? Was it that guy that she met at Darcy's wedding? Dean. The name grated his nerves. He couldn’t blame her; she was allowed to move on. Worry filled his thoughts, could he have caused Y/N to run into the arms of someone else because he hooked up with Jackie.

Y/N slammed the handset into its holder on the wall, spinning to Bucky and the moment he saw her unshed tears, he pulled her into his arms. Pushing his feelings aside, he knew that he needed to be there for her regardless of if she had moved on to someone new.

Continue Here...

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