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jackiequick · 1 year ago

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Jason Underwood being a better dad than Howard Stark for 9 minutes straight | Marvel Fic

Pairings: Tony x Pepper, JJ x Liz, Liane x Ethan

Summary: What happened when a man frozen in time suddenly is in charge of raising the heroes of tomorrow? In other words, Jason trying to keep everyone in check and doing well.

Characters mentioned: Tony Stark, Pepper Potts, Howard Stark, Rei Stark, Ava Stark, The Avengers, Young Avengers and etc

Fandoms: Marvel Comics—> Iron Man 1-3, The Avengers, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Age Of Ultron

A/N: I blame Glen giving rom-com energy! I hate him (affectionately). His favorite song is Unwritten hehehe

Sequel to this fanfic!

———

————

Tony sat down at his lab downtown with his eyes shot, the lights made him more than pale as he lay inside his car and faced the wall. He has been drinking since this afternoon. His tears filled his eyes as he looked to his side to find his uncle walking around to open the side of the car.

He was surprised to see him here, last he checked he was with Coulson on a small assignment.

“Tony..” He muttered, resting his head against his hand, “Come on buddy.”

“I can’t stand..I’m tired, JJ..” He replied, squeezing his eyes shut and leaned forward into his touch for a spilt second.

“It’s okay, I got you.”

Tony was silent as an arm was looped around his side, lifting him up and out of the car, standing over to leave the lab and head upstairs. Jason kept an eye on him asking if he was alright in which his nephew just nodded. He lay him down on the couch with a soft blanket across his body wrapped tightly to keep him warm.

A moment later, he returned with a small glass of water and some fruit. Orange slices to be consumed by Tony within a matter of minutes. He watched him as he sat, allowing his nephew to rest his head on his shoulder and even saw the crossword puzzle on his neck start to erase with time.

“..I don’t know what’s gotten into me lately…” Tony admitted with a small sigh biting down on another orange slice.

Jason hushed his voice for a moment before humming, “It’s okay..you just got overwhelmed, you need a break, step back and regroup..”

“I’m boyfriend of the year..are Pepper and I even dating?”

“I would like to say you are..you will figure out, just no more running off for a while. Please.”

The brunette only nodded, as his uncle found something on the TV for him to watch. He even wondered if he should provide him a vitamin C infusion, JARVIS recommended it. All that matter was to keep him away for the drinks for a while and not have him stray away from help.

He has a good idea where to start.

~~~

Jason carried a 2 year old Rei in his arms, resting the small brunette on his hip walking around the mansion trying to get him to stop crying.

It was early in the evening. His mother was gone for a week, his father was stuck at work with Pepper and JARVIS was no help.

Rei was whimpering, having just returned from the backyard not wanting anyone to know he got hurt. Jason of course figured out the problem and cleaned up the small mess on his knee. Now he rested his head on his godfather’s shoulder as his hand cuffed the fabric of the sweater.

Him and Tony were the same in this aspect, getting hurt by something and wanting to deal with it by themselves. Yes, it showed independence but still, it was alarmingly obvious it wasn’t the best move.

“Aw penguin..” He said softly, gently resting his head against his own, “Rei, it’s gonna be alright..you’re fine now.”

“It hurts..” He mumbled into his shoulder, as soft tears rose to his eyes.

“I know that it hurts, but you took medicine for it and now you’re going to feel much better I promise.”

“I’m dumb, papa..”

Jason was pacing around the room at this point and paused but kept a hand rubbing circles across his small back. He hated hearing his kids talking about themselves that way.

“Hey, hey, you’re not dumb..you’re Rei Stark, you’re one of the smartest boys I know. You fell cause you’re running so hard, that’s all. It can happen to anyone, even me.” Jason explained.

“You fell?” He questioned removing his head the shoulder he was resting on to face him properly.

“Yeah I fell a lot. I still fall and trip over things, if you only knew how much times I almost died tripping over your father’s toys.”

“Really?!”

“Yeah, really. It hurt a lot, but I got up again. Just like you did.”

At that Rei softly smiled and nodded, feeling a bit better about not feeling so bad for falling down earlier. He was a strong kid but rather sensitive about things whether he admits it or not.

——

———-

“Pops, I think I like guys too now.” Rei blunted said entering the living room of Avengers Tower.

Jason was on the couch reading A Streetcar Named Desire when he heard his godson say those words. He took him a long moment to lock in what he said then smiled. JJ remembered Rei checking out some cute reporter two weeks ago but didn’t say anything to not embarrass him.

He already figured out that he might’ve felt that way but waited for him to come to his own conclusions about it.

Rei waited for a response, he was kinda shitting his pants wondering what the heck he was going to say to him.

A few seconds later Jason spoke, “I know. And I’m happy for you.”

“Wait what?” Rei asked as his eyes silently widened, “Dad freaked out!”

“Your father is just being dramatic, thinking you weren’t going to ever date until your mid twenties. Don’t worry about him. How do you feel?”

“I feel okay, I guess. How are you not freaking out?”

“Kiddo your grandfather and father aren’t straight eariler. I was just wondering to see if you were gonna being home a boy or girl someday, I’ll love you all the same. You know that.”

“B-but..I was ready for some lecture or something.”

“I’m not Cap, kiddo.”

“Wait grandpa wasn’t…that’s impossible he married grandma and dad never said..”

“Your grandfather has always been into blondes. Hence why he liked me, Cap, my sister and your grandmother.”

“Oh shit, grandpa was bi..and so is dad? Just to be clear, you’re cool with all of this, right?”

“Yeah, you’re my kid. As long as you don’t date some ignorant jerk or bitter bitch we’re fine.”

Rei nodded thinking it went better than he thought. Of course he wasn’t going to bring anyone to his house who insulted him or made him feel guilty, he wasn’t stupid.

————

——————

Tony and Jason were in the middle of the kitchen together sharing some slices of pizza. A small mission went as planned, the heroes were all celebrating at home with them.

It was quiet. A little too quiet for his liking.

“Where’s our son?” Yelled a voice that belonged to his wife.

And there it is.

Despite not being officially confirmed as married to a legal counsel, in their hearts they are.

Liz came in with her arms crossed stealing a slice of pizza from the box muttering that she was hungry. Tony locked eyes with his uncle then looked at his aunt with a smile.

“Whatever it is, blame the kids!” Tony exclaimed taking another bite.

“You stole my blueprints from the basement without telling me.” Liz said looking between her nephews and husband.

“How is that a bad thing?”

“Because they are mine. Some of them were…made for the military during the war.”

“I was just going to reinforce them into better positions and transport your idea into something useful for the modern day.”

Jason joined into the conversation as he added, “Honey, you did make some explosive points when you created those fine numbers back in the day.”

Liz jokingly glared, “Who’s side are you on?”

“I’m afraid to say which one.”

“Good answer.”

Tony sighed, “In my defense, I was just curious! It’s not like I going to have something blow up in my head…this time at least.”

“I swear you’re more like your father every day..” She muttered softly smiling, as she pinched the bridge of her nose, “Next time, you come to me with an idea. We’re a family for a reason, you have my brain!”

The three of them talked it over coming to a good compromise. But a part of Jason couldn’t wonder how Liz would react if Louis, Tony’s brother who lived in another city within the United States, stole one of her blueprints too. It was always evident that the Stark boys tend to be the most curious boys alive, it resulted in those sets of brother destroying one of his favorite cars.

They always tend to take a small comment and trickle it down to a roar, as one small idea would turn into something great for humanity or an opportunity gone wrong. That’s how Ultron was created…

———

————-

“Alright. Relax your shoulders a bit, tighten the grip on the handle and have your fingers line up the tip of the arrow.” He instructed with a smile.

“Like this?” She asked, holding up her bow and arrow at an angle.

She could’ve learned from Clint but he was busy on a date with his wife and her mom was babysitting. She already knew how to use a gun, but extra protection in skills was always a plus.

She picked out a specific arrow she wanted to use and took care of the bow she was handed. She questioned if Jason even knew how to work this kind of equipment.

His response, “I never said I didn’t know how to use a gun. And never said I didn’t know how to shoot an arrow either.”

“Fair point. When did you learn to shoot with a bow and arrow?” She wondered with a smile.

“I was on a mission in Tokyo, to chase down some idiot who stole a type of drug. As I was running through the streets, s arrow came flying from a rooftop to straight into the guys leg. Then I met the guy who shot him.”

“What wad his name?”

“Karl Yune. He was a good archer, he taught me a thing or two about this.”

“Sounds like a nice man.”

“Yeah, his older cousin worked as a geneticist in Korea.”

“…they are not related to Ji-Hoon, they are?”

Jason just winked telling her return to training as she grinned softly to herself. The two of them went onto 2 rounds, as he showed her how to start feeling comfortable with holding such equipment. Rochelle wasn’t that bad at the game, shooting the wall full of targets as best as she could.

“Good. Now you’re ready for take on your real teacher.” He said with a chuckle, lowering his bow.

She raised an eyebrow confused by his wording, “What..”

As if on cue, walked in a tan skinned woman with long brown hair and tattoos. She held a grin greeting Jason with a tight hug before turning around to meet Rochelle.

“Lydia Barton.” She said holding out her hand to shake.

The redhead smiled shaking her hand and said, “Rochelle, but you probably already know who I am.”

Jason smirked telling them to be careful and have fun, that he’ll be back to check up on them later. Both girls just grinned leading into a casual but intriguing discussion on their favorite things, before training.

Something told him that they would be good friends.

———-

———————

“Give it back! It’s mine you little twerp!”

“It was mine first! I saw the last batch of cookies before your ass ever thought about them.”

“Oh really mature using curse words at me!”

“What do you care? You’re failing grammar anyway!”

“HEY! That’s enough.” In called Jason’s voice as he swung into the room snatching the cookie out of Ava’s hand and placing against it lips instead, “If you were are gonna fight over a damn cookie, then neither of you deserve to eat it.”

Rei crossed his eyes like the 9 year old he was and scoffed, “It was mine!”

“Oh pleaseeee, you said you didn’t want any cookies in the first place anyway!” Ava barked back.

“I could’ve wanted it for later, ever think of that!”

“You’re such a smartass sometimes…no wonder you don’t—”

Jason glared at both kids, “Ava, don’t even finish that sentence. And Rei, if you wanted it so badly why didn’t you tell her? You two could’ve broken the cookie in half instead of making a mess out of it.”

Both young Starks looked away from their godfather, feeling guilty and embarrassed for causing such a scene in the kitchen. Yet there was an instant anger behind their eyes, as Rei and Ava glared at each other. It was normal for siblings to fight over plenty of things but theses two would argue over everything, not making up afterwards either.

Their godfather sighed softly as he watched both of them in silence waiting for an answer that ever came.

Then he spoke, “You know something? There is something I want both of you to understand. Listen good, when I say that you two only have each other. Friends will come and go, they won’t always stay despite your best efforts. But as siblings, that’s a unit that you created for the moment your brought into this family.”

Ava muttered, “But he’s a little smartass, he thinks he’s always right..”

“Cause I am..” Rei added hearing his big sister.

Jason gave them a certain look as he continued, “You two are young, so you don’t get it right now. But there will come a time when you need each other but because you were both so harsh and pigheaded with another, you’re gonna feel alone. You’ll hate each other..despite a little part of you that still loves them..you don’t want to accept that. Then you won’t even want to imagine what happens next to your relationship.”

At those words, the siblings looked at one another then glanced down at the floor, that heavyweight anger started to creep away from their systems. Ava started to feel sorry for her actions as Rei began to feel upset about staring a riot. They knew he was right but didn’t want to admit it. There was another moment of silence in the room, only the small sound of Jason’s biting down on the cookie that didn’t matter to them anymore. The sibling exchange small gestures of apologies toward one another, even apologizing to their godfather as well.

Ava asked, “Did you ever get into fights with your siblings?”

Rei added, “You and auntie Peg look like you could have fought a lot.”

“Well…” Jason replied with a half smile and shrugged, “..yes, me and aunt Peg fought a lot, but we always tried to make up for our mistakes. But I had another sister before her…her name was Dot, she was smart and cunning, she wasn’t ever around to help me…when she was, she treated me like crap, so we always fought..”

“Did you ever forgive her?” Ava asked out of curiosity, hoping for a good answer.

“Uh..we did forgive each other every once in a while..I tried to forgive her, but she never had the courage to forgive me. She was my big sister, I loved her, but she wasn’t really someone I would call to help me if I was in trouble, she would leave me out to dry..”

Rei nodded, “So that’s why you and auntie Peg are good friends..she was like a sister..so you want me and Ava to be like that too?”

“Exactly. You want both of you to look out for each other, make sure you’re alright and not hurt. Not leave the other in the dust.” Jason responded with a smile.

—————

———————

Cue scenes of Jason playing with his first godchild, Ava Stark, in her bedroom pretending to be Pop Stars. Ava was singing along to Christina Aguilera, Gwen Stefani and Avril Lavigne with a toy guitar in her hands.

Jason was sitting on the floor waving lights around and dressed in a funny hat, pretending to be her producer for a music video. He loved seeing his goddaughter shine acting out magic video footage in her bedroom as he filmed her. At first he didn’t want to be recorded on any cameras but after some encouragement from Tony and the others, she tried it out.

“I'll spread my wings, and I'll learn how to fly. I'll do what it takes 'til I touch the sky. And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change.” She sung into her microphone as she played the guitar.

“And break away!” Jason sung along to the lyrics.

--------

One of the things of having a little girl in the house, songs get repeated every so often you remember the lyrics yourself. Poor man still has Under The Sea stuck in his head from last weekend.

It’s one of those things that carries over every generation of children he gets to know is the music taste, he may not always appreciate or enjoy the music but it does tend to become an enjoyable ear worm for him. If it’s AC/DC album from Tony to Selena Gomez’s Who Say from Rochelle, they tend to get stuck in his head!

He tries to not let everyone in on his own playlist of songs but sometimes it will slip out…

Jason just finished a small meeting with the industry and answering questions from SHIELD investors, who just annoyed him the whole time, and decided to make himself a grilled cheese sandwich. He yelled out if anyone else wanted one but received no answer, so he shrugged, then popped in his ear buds cuing in his playlist. He had a bunch of songs.

“Starring at the blank page before you, open up the dirty window. Let the sun illuminate the words that you cannot find…” He sang out to the lyrics slapping both sides of bread onto the frying pan.

That was when Ethan stumbled into the kitchen saying, “JJ you saying some..”.

He paused noticing that the blonde wasn’t listening and singing instead as Liane bumped into him, she exclaimed to her boyfriend something important but Ethan told her to hush as he pointed out the scene in front of them.

Liane was confused for a moment then squeaked seeing Jason singing out loud as he danced in place, it wasn’t something she saw coming but was more than surprised to see the man was in his element. She smirked to herself wondering what other songs he knew.

A couple of days later, the pair were coming back from their trip to the movie theater as that very song was playing on the radio. The two walked in singing it loud enough to hear along with a group of Taylor Swift songs. Before they knew some of the young avengers were humming the damn tune.

The tall blonde walked past hearing his serenity song being sung, raising an eyebrow at everyone’s actions wondering who else knew about this. Oh god he wasn’t gonna be able to live that one down anytime soon.

———

—————

One of the biggest things people always assume is that he was the best parent ever, due to the young avengers always wanting to hang around his chill vibes and warm atmosphere he created.

But the truth is that he wasn’t a freaking super-dad or anything. He grew up with a somewhat rusty alcoholic father and a mother who was always traveling around with her kids, leaving him to pick up the pieces himself when they weren’t at home bricking about something. In response he tried to convince the world he was going to be fine no matter what happened, he even believed it himself.

Jason even promised to make the best he can when he gets the opportunity to be a father himself, in this case an uncle, someone who was there for his kids. He might not know everything or even be skilled at certain aspects of life, but he tries. So when Tony was born he decided he would stick around, live closer to Howard and Maria, but it also meant he would be away for work and signing papers for different aliases. Still, he did it, even though he might not want to talk about it with many.

He keeps himself, cool, calm and composed in collected fashion. Yes, he has his flaws such as drinking, having a temper and smoking (it was for a short period of time, he quit in the early 70s), Jason was still there for Tony. Same thing goes for his godchildren, which is a privilege and gift to watch them grow and learn now, he still has those moments where he ends up not getting enough rest due to taking care of them.

So to Natasha, Tony, Bruce and the other parents he seems like the only well informed and intelligent one when it comes to parenting, it’s only was all due to respect, patience and watching how the ball rolls. He used to put so much pressure on being the awesome uncle and whatnot, then he realized that all you need to do is be there for your kids.

They don’t ask of much, only for you to spend time with them even if you’re far away and need to do a phone call with that. Same thing goes for any relationship romance or platonic, as long they know you’re there for them, that’s what matters.

Like the saying goes, ‘No one is freaking perfect’. He’s still learning how to raise theses guys!

————-

——————

Nicknames. He doesn’t have nicknames for everyone, only if the person is comfortable with them, of course. But that never stops Jason from making up silly nicknames for the kids, usually they come out naturally without even trying.

Tony has had a few nicknames such as Butterball or Meatball when he was a baby, he was a round cubby little guy. Over the years it was Bambino, Bubba, Tones, Bunny and etc.

Rei was always Bubba, Sonny or Penguin, on occasion he would throw out the Papo (which is what him and his grandmother Maria use to call his father when he was younger)

Liane, he absolutely calls Princess or Your Majesty, when she's being a bit bratty

Rochelle tends to be, Li'l Red

For Cassie, he calls her Goldie cause her hair shines bright like gold in the sun

Melissa gets classic nicknames but he will throw out Peaches or Ladybug

Lydia, due to knowing her skills he will call her Sparrow sometime or just Ly

And the list goes on!

~~~~~~~

There has been moments where Jason has took a leap of faith to save his kids. Such as in 2013, when Stark Mansion was attacked and the whole place falling apart he remembered Pepper and Liz's screams as Ava was about to fall off the cliff of their home.

Tony and Rei were busy fighting and trying to get everyone to out of the house safely. But Tony's suit wasn't working correctly either. Jason swooped in, sliding down the rubble and dust coughing as he catches Ava before she can fall.

"Baby look at me! It's okay, I got you.." He said rescuing her, as she clung to him tightly.

The two of them climbed back up the rubble and into the destroyed mansion as Ava went to help the others. The drones just kept on firing and tearing apart the house. Suddenly water took over dunking Jason, Tony, Liz and Rei all down into the ocean as Pepper and the other kids stayed above water.

To say Jason has taken a lot of hits for Tony and the kids was an understatement. For example, that same Christmas in 2013, there a fight on the streets where they landed in after almost drowning, as two crazy bitches was about to attack Rei. Jason choked one of women out as he was stabbed in the side.

The crazy burning women gave Jason some flirty eyes as she did so. He was not pleased. Liz was pissed off having finished fighting some guy to protect Tony.

But she thankfully swoops in wracking the women in a pole as she yelled, "Hands off, bitch!"

~~~~~

~~~~~~~~

He did have good moment as well, that didn't involve a fight (yet), such as 2015 during a Stark party New York City. The Avengers, young and old just finished a battle, as a party was being made to celebrate.

Jason has been in and out of Stark parties over the years, sometimes he stayed the whole night and or times he went home early. This night felt like a good one, he had his girl with him, his friends were partying and the kids were enjoying themselves.

They all deserve a win.

Hell he even danced a bit, drank a beer with Thor and played pool with Sam. He saw Steve walking away for a moment to text some girl, not declaring on who it is he was messaging, despite Nat and the other teasing him.

Nat even muttered, "Oh I'll find out."

It felt good. He rolled his eyes at Tony's jokes and laughed at others. Soon enough, the party died down as everyone rested around the living room area sharing smiles as they all chatted.

Rick has Rochelle and Luna resting on each of his shoulder, Bruce was chatting with Natasha, Maria Hill was wearing Steve's jacket as she chatted with Liz and Liane was playing with a set of cards with Lydia beating her.

Steve and Thor were sharing another bottle of beer, Tony was grab one for himself and Cole was playing Janga with Rochelle. Everyone was there. Beside it held Thor's precious hammer.

"Come man, it's trick!" Clint exclaimed swirling his drumsticks.

"Dude, I tried lifting it once in New Mexico, it's glued to whatever ground it's on!" Jason added pointing to the hammer.

"Whoever shall be worthy shall have the power! Whatever man, it's a trick."

"Really?"

"Yeah!"

Thor smirked chuckling allowing Clint to take a swing at it. Everyone looked around amused of the honest challenge as Clint stood up smug looping his hand around the handle trying to pick it up. But failed dryly chuckling as he joked.

"Smell the silent judgement." Tony remark.

"Please, Stark, by all means." Clint said returning back to his seat next to his blonde friend.

"Oh this gonna be good.." Liz muttered hearing Liane snort at her comment.

Some of the young heroes wiggled their eyebrows, cracking a few jokes and engaging in conversations as they all watched.

Tony stood up muttering how it was all physic and how he planned to use rule Asgard as Bruce rolled his eyes, watching his friend trying but failed. He even returned with an Iron Man arm to help and lift it. Poor Rhodey was pulled into it too.

"Are you even pulling?" Tony exclaimed.

"Just represent. Pull!" Rhodey told him.

"Alright let's go."

Still nothing. Soon enough, almost everyone tried. Rochelle and Cassie gave it a try, as their eyes flashes trying to find the strength to do it. Rei scoffed as him and Rick round came, believing putting both their heads together they can do it.

Bruce pretended to turn like the Hulk as he pulled, causing a roar of chuckles and laugher from the gang. Nat smiled finding it cute shaking her head. Ethan and Ji-Hoon picked up the pace, but failed.

Liane and Cole teamed up to pick the hammer from it's place on the table. Hell, some of the teammates tried to use magic but instead moved the table and items surrounding it.

Liz and Lydia joined forces, taking the team up route. Tony joked how he tried it already but failed. It went on and on for a while, passing drinks and snacks watching the show of friends take their turn at Thor's challenge.

Then it was Cap's turn.

Steve took a swing of beer before getting up with a smile. His eyes narrowed rolling up his sleeves taking a deep breathe, looping his hands around the handle and pulled.

The Hammer Nudge.

It made a small squeaking noise, some eyes turned gasping to themselves and other didn't even catch wind of it quick enough to catch the moment. Thor's eyes widen as his stress level turned up a little thinking it was dreaming. Steve pulled again, as the hammer stayed in place.

Steve raised his hands in air declaring defeat with a small smile. Thor was chuckling as he said, "Ha! Nothing."

Luna and Natasha didn't even bothering knowing it won't work, despite Bruce and Rick nudging them on. They were smart in a way to watch and laugh the whole go on. Not everyone went, some decided to try again after getting some food in their system.

But again nothing.

"All difference to the man who wouldn't be king. It's rigged." Tony proclaimed searching for another beer.

"You bet your ass." Clint added in agreement.

Maria smirked, "Steve, he said a bad language work."

Steve sighed and looked at Tony as he said, "You tell everyone about that?"

Tony ignored his comment and joked, "The handles imprinted right? Like a security code? Whoever is carrying Thor's fingerprint is, the literal translation."

"If so, then Thor's son or daughter should be able to lift it right?" Rochelle questioned which sparked a whole other conversations among themselves.

One of them wondered who exactly can lift and what would it take to do so.

Thor stood up from the couch, putting his drink down as everyone looked at him.

"Yes, yes, that's a very interesting theory. But got a simpler one." Thor said bending down then lifting his hammer with such ease, "You're all not worthy."

Everyone chuckle, commenting on his words and either rolled their eyes at his answer. Some of them shook their heads, exchanging looks with one another.

~~~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ahh that's what I got for now!💘 I hope you enjoyed getting to know a little more about Uncle JJ and his group of mishaps he calls children.

Please let me know what you think down below in the comments, any suggests or ideas and etc. ✨ You are more than welcome to write stories involving JJ if you want as well (pls tag me in them!👀)

Tags: @gaminggirlsstuff @gcthvile @missstrawbs2001 @rooster-84 @djs8891 @sofia-falcon @starkleila @cherrysft @mandylove1000 @yetanotherwells @topgun-imagines @hardballoonlove @buckysteveloki-me @sherloquestea @nakiaswg @carellmcu @ximehs @savemewattpad and etc

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sweetmaggie · 7 months ago

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aaaa Tony was having flashbacks of the Battle of New York at that moment, you can't tell me otherwise!

#ouch #mcu #tony stark #pepperony #pepper x tony #angst

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rebelmeg · 1 year ago

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Chapters: 1/2 Fandom: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Characters: Pepper Potts, Tony Stark, Christine Everhart Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, Interviews, Pre-Relationship, Awesome Pepper Potts, Tony Stark Has A Heart, rumors and gossip, Christine is a jerk, Boundaries, and how to respect them Summary:

Pepper is a broadcast journalist. Tony is a big-time CEO. When their chemistry makes them friends at first sight, it's really only a matter of time until they finally turn into something more.

Notes: For my @tonystarkbingo square T5 - friends to lovers, @lyricalescape G2 - Weight of the World!

Extra special thanks to Faustess, who figured out why the original version of this fic was NOT working! (It was missing the banter! How could I not have included the banter?!)

#rebelmeg's fanfic #tonystarkbingomarkvii #lyrical escape bingo #pepperony #pepper potts #tony stark #christine everhart #friends to lovers #celebrity and journalist AU #fluff and angst and humor #fanfic #mcu

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themculibrary · 1 year ago

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Hi I’m looking for a fanfiction on ao3 where Tony travels back both to 2016 and to Afghanistan to try and stop Thanos. The story is told by jumping between both timelines. I think Pepper may also have travelled back.

I think it could be this fic?

Be careful what you wish for, you may just get it (ao3) - Savana_Marlark pepper/tony T, 169k (WIP)

Summary: A snap.

A gauntlet.

A dying man's regret.

It is a dangerous thing to wish with infinity stones on your fist.

Sent back to the sands of Afghanistan, Tony Stark has a world to fix, and a Titan to stop, but he won't be doing it alone.

- Tori

#Anonymous #answered #anonymous #ao3 #100k #teenandup #pepperony #peter parker #morgan stark #time travel #time travel fix it #fix it #angst #fluff #kid!peter #bamf!tony #bamf!pepper #inprogress

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the-chocolate-void · 2 years ago

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⋆｡ﾟUnspoken Desires ⋆｡ﾟ

GIFs not mine!

Summary: Hidden desires surface, leaving Bucky and Steve wrestling with their feelings. Amidst tears, they find the courage to share their emotions, leading to a heartfelt confession.

Pairing: Bucky x Steve

Warnings: none

word count: 1.7k

author's note: I also posted this on AO3 (a_kind_spirit) so if you see this story over there that is me :)

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It started off as a joke, more or less an innocent quip from Tony. He just couldn’t resist teasing Bucky and Steve, suggesting that the only thing they were missing was a child to make their little family complete. With a mischievous wiggle of his eyebrows and a trademark Tony wink, he threw the idea out there. Steve laughed it off, a somewhat awkward chuckle emanating from his throat. He was uncomfortable talking to Tony about the prospects of their future. Skillfully changing the topic of the conversation, he diverted Tony’s attention while extricating himself from Bucky’s embrace and suggesting getting another round of drinks. A slight frown briefly appeared on Tony’s face, but it disappeared a second later. He chose to stand up and stretch his limbs, using Steve's limited knowledge of drinking culture due to his icy slumber as an excuse to discreetly follow him.

Unbeknownst to them, eyes followed their movements, tracking their postures and emotions like a map of a fantasy world at the beginning of a book. Letting his eyes fall over Steve’s back, turned to him while he appeared to be in a somewhat heated conversation with Tony—most likely scolding him about the scarce beverage options available at the billionaire's bar. Bucky’s sudden silence and the uncharacteristic absence of his dry and sarcastic humor didn’t go unnoticed. As worried glances were cast in Bucky's direction, a subtle tension filled the air. However, just as the atmosphere seemed heavy with concern, the mood shifted abruptly. The music changed its tune, the rhythm taking on a jazzy flair that lured them out of their worries. In a seamless motion, they rose from their seats, their worries dissipating like a distant memory, filling the room with their joyous laughter as they made atrocious attempts to dance to the beat.

"Are you alright?" a voice broke through the haze, accompanied by a heavy hand settling upon Bucky's shoulder. His attention was drawn away from his distant state as he turned his head slightly, his eyes meeting the familiar face of his beloved. A gentle smile tugged at Bucky's lips as he took in the sight of Steve—his flushed face and carefree demeanor, clearly influenced by the drinks Tony had insisted he consume. "Yeah, Steve," Bucky replied while laying his hand on Steve’s, his voice laced with warmth. "I'm fine." Steve acknowledged Bucky's response with a nod, seeing through the gentle smile. He gave Bucky's shoulder a reassuring squeeze before redirecting his focus to the dance floor. Without glancing back, Steve made a request, his words laced with a subtle vulnerability, "Would you like to dance with me?"

Bucky's heart skipped a beat at the question, his gaze following Steve's to where Pepper and Tony swayed in each other's arms. A mix of emotions welled up within him—happiness, longing, and a touch of hesitation. He diverted his attention back to the hand Steve had extended to him, a reassuring smile playing on his face. Bucky placed his hand into his, not averting his eyes.

Time seemed to stand still as Steve led him to the dance floor. The jazzy tune changed into traditional pop, and the sultry voice of Frank Sinatra filled the silence of the room. Slow dancing was a regular habit between the pair, but never had Steve asked to openly express his love through softly swaying to the beat in a public place. As they moved together, Steve's hand tenderly cupped Bucky's cheek, redirecting his attention back to him. The touch sent a shiver down Bucky's spine. He couldn't help but chuckle softly, recognizing the irony of the situation. It was usually Bucky who had to coax Steve out of his deep thoughts, yet now the tables were turned. "Where are your thoughts leading you, my love?" The concerned look, coupled with the tender touch on Bucky’s cheek, nearly brought him to tears. But not in a public place, and not when he couldn’t tell his lover the reason for his sudden despair. Not when he was too ashamed to admit what he had wanted for years.

Bucky closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, humming the melody, not giving Steve an answer. Swaying to the beat and Sinatra’s sultry voice seemed to blend into the background as Steve searched for answers in Bucky’s eyes, who was staring back at him with fondness. The song stopped, the silence being filled with heartfelt chatter and the occasional chorus of cheers, before transitioning into yet another jazzy tune. "I think I’ll go to bed early. Will you be alright?" Steve's eyes displayed a whirlwind of emotions as he desperately tried to grasp what had gotten Bucky so distant and melancholic. “Yeah, I'll be up in our room shortly."

Bucky walked to the elevator, feeling Steve’s concerned gaze burning into his back. Just as the elevator doors closed, a stray tear trickled down Bucky’s face, his head leaning on the cold wall of the elevator cabin.

A sad sigh escaped his throat as his bloodshot eyes wandered over his own features in the mirror. The frustration over ruining a perfect night with his own selfish desires burned in his heart. He knew Steve. Every nook and cranny of his personality was perfectly mapped out over the years of friendship that eventually turned into something more. The sudden change in topic when Tony had brought up the prospect of kids, diverting his attention elsewhere, escaping from the conversation. Steve was uncomfortable, even thinking about having kids with him and raising a child together. The topic alone made him flee the conversation. Tears stained his shirt, but he couldn’t care less. Not when the one desire that he had always wanted to fulfill was now out of reach. Not when he was mourning the loss of his dream.

The door creaked open, and footsteps were silenced by the carpeted floor. Steve's eyes wandered over Bucky’s sleeping form under the comforter. He brushed some stray hair out of Bucky’s face, watching his chest move up and down. The rhythmic breath comforted him slightly. A sigh of uncertainty escaped his throat as he settled on the opposite side of the king-sized bed. Closing his eyes, he let himself fall into the whirlwind that was his thoughts, not yet ready to let himself succumb to comforting slumber. Through the heavy silence, a gentle voice pierced the air, breaking the tension like a sharp blade. "Steve?" The sound hung in the room, carrying a sense of vulnerability and longing. Bucky shifted, turning his body upwards.

"Are you awake?" Bucky rolled over, now facing Steve, whose eyes had fluttered open. "Yes," Steve responded softly, mirroring Bucky's movement, rolling onto his side to face him.

"I can't sleep." Bucky felt Steve’s arms encircle him into a hug, placing his chin onto the black mop of hair. "Why not, love?" Steve's voice was gentle, laced with genuine concern. As Bucky listened to the steady rhythm of Steve's heart, a flicker of calmness settled within him.

Bucky sighed deeply, removing himself from Steve’s embrace and sitting up , creating a bit of space between them. Steve followed suit, perching himself up on his elbow, looking at his lover in the darkness of the night, the light of a lone streetlamp illuminating just one half of Bucky’s face. "You know you can tell me anything. If something bothers you or if I did something wrong, I want to know what it is, not only because..." Steve trailed off.

"Because 'healthy communication is the key to everything.' I know the speech, Steve," Bucky chuckled. "You've given me the same speech since the day I met you, you know?"

"It has a good message." Even through the darkness, Bucky could see the slight pout that probably took place on Steve's face at this moment. "I know that it's getting old..."

"I want a kid, Steve."

The room was filled with a heavy silence, enveloping them in its weight. It seemed to drown out the sounds of the city outside and the ticking of the clock on the nightstand. The air felt charged, anticipation hanging in the space between them. A lone tear trickled down his cheek, and he quickly wiped it away, but they just kept coming. The weight of his unspoken desire had been lifted, and his floodgates had been opened. Steve's voice broke the silence, his words cautious yet filled with genuine curiosity. "Since when?" Bucky took a moment, gathering his thoughts. "Always," he confessed, his words slipping out like fragile secrets, his voice strained and raw, trying his best not to let his despair show. "Since the day you made that innocent joke about the kids in the park. The ones who reminded you of Peter. Since the day you told me about your desire to give him a good childhood. Since..” He took a deep breath, his emotions overwhelming him. “Since the day I met you, Steve. Since the day you said yes to marrying me."

It wasn't an awkward or uncomfortable silence that followed suit. Bucky knew Steve liked to ponder over his words before speaking his mind. "Do you remember the yacht trip Tony took us on last year?"

"Don’t change the subject, Steve."

"I’m not, love. Let me talk. I've been wanting to say this for a long time. The second day on the yacht. When you and Nat were swimming. Pepper and Tony approached me. We talked. We talked about their future, their past, our past, and... our future. And Tony asked if he would ever see Mini-Us running about in the Stark Tower. And I said yes. Because I had been thinking about it for years. Since the day I requited my love for you.”

Steve pauses, listening to Bucky breathe. In and out. In and out. He places his hands on Bucky’s cheeks, admiring his features in the darkness of the night. “Do you want to do this with me... James Buchanan Barnes?"

"Yes, with you, always."

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Thank you for reading this, truly :)

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whytheylosttheirminds · 5 months ago

Text

Don't Call Me Kid - Chapter 9 (part one)

(Rafe Cameron x reader series, 7k words)

series summary: You'd had a crush on Rafe Cameron since you were six years old, but he friend zoned you at every turn. Once shy and insecure, you found new confidence and self-love after high school. When your high school friends go on a reunion beach trip, Rafe finally sees what he lost, but he isn't going to give you up without a fight.

tropes: unrequited crush, glow up, she fell first/he fell harder

series content: some angst, eventual fluff, slow burn, tomfoolery and shenanigans, drinking, fem!reader has occasional insecurity and body image issues

⇢ series masterlist

All that met you when you woke was anxiety and a sharp, thumping headache. It was such a depressing paradox to the peaceful way you’d woken up in this same bed on your first morning here, a thousand fucking lifetimes ago. Your whole body ached as you sat up in bed, pulling your knees to your chest and resting your chin on one.

The bed felt empty. Strange, since you hadn’t ever shared it with anyone.

Your eyes, puffy around the edges from tears and exhaustion, scanned the dimly lit room. You were startled when you saw it - the little box of candy sitting on the dresser, unopened and completely forgotten. Even more startling was the sudden pang of craving you had for it. You pulled the covers from your legs, immediately missing their warmth, and padded quickly across the room to fetch the candy.

After adjusting the heavy curtains to block out as much of the midday sunlight as possible, you crawled back under the blankets, tearing the package open. Little crystals of sugar went flying, their unnatural dyes and chemicals surely staining the white sheets. But that was some faceless Airbnb owner’s problem.

You ate the candy fast and messy, completely indulging your childish desires and ignoring any regard for moderation or tooth enamel. Fingers sticky and jaw aching, you chewed and licked until there wasn’t a morsel of artificial sweetness left in the box.

The candy didn’t help your headache, yet somehow it still made you feel better. A small gift on a day of mostly unpleasant surprises. Ironic, since the person you had to thank for the treat was the one who caused the tears.

You’d have to face him eventually, there was still a question to be answered. That problem was entirely your own, and one you weren’t anywhere near ready to face yet, so you sunk back down in the sheets and let the sugar crash knock you back out.

The second time you woke up, the sun was setting outside your window, your mouth dry and sour from the sugar and oversleeping. You sat up and chugged some water from the bottle you kept on the nightstand, think about how you should probably go downstairs, see what everyone’s up to, check in with Carter. Yes, that’s what you should do, so why was your body not rising from the bed?

You checked your phone: 7:12 pm. The day was basically over. In the span of it, you’d fallen in and out of love, had your heart broken, and slept for nearly twelve hours. And, as the pang in your stomach was so aptly reminding you, you hadn’t eaten anything since Rafe made you eggs so many hours ago.

Your phone screen also showed you had about ten texts from Carter, checking on you and asking if you were okay. You opened them and sent a half-hearted “I’m good. Just catching up on sleep from the crazy semester.”

Another growl of your stomach and you opened a different app, double checking the house’s address before confirming your order of one large pizza - pepperoni and onions, extra cheese. The delivery estimate was forty-five minutes. Perfect.

You had gotten through one episode of your favorite show when the doorbell rang downstairs, just as you’d expected. A few seconds later and a knock on the door finally pulled you from the bed, your legs like jello from being dormant for so long. You threw on Topper’s U of F hoodie and padded towards the knocking.

Carter stood outside your door, your hot, steaming pizza in hand.

“Delivery,” she smiled tightly when you opened the door.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the pie and opening it to smell the treat that was awaiting you.

“Glad to see you’re not dead up here,” she joked.

“Yeah, sorry, I’m just tired.”

She didn’t buy it, you could read the concern all over her face, but there was nothing you wanted less right now than a lecture from her about everything that had happened with Rafe.

“We’re doing a whole crab boil down there, why don’t you just come down and-”

Actually, no. The last thing you wanted in the world right now was to sit across from Rafe, cracking crab shells and pretending nothing that happened had happened. You couldn’t bear to see him, not yet.

“I’m just gonna stay up here tonight, okay?” You smiled despite the questioning look she was throwing you, silently pleading with her to just drop it and let you be.

“I knew this was gonna happen,” she frowned, hands landing on her hips in an indignant pose. She clearly wasn’t going to just drop it.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself before saying “you knew what was gonna happen?”

“I knew he was gonna hurt you, and now you’re spiraling out again. God, I’m gonna kill him-”

“I’m not spiraling,” you interrupted her. “I just want some alone time. I’m having a good time actually, I’m just watching some -”

“You’re holed up in your room, just like in high school, rotting away while he’s just down there hanging out and having a good time like he did nothing wrong. So fucking typical of him. Just come downstairs, don’t let him do this to you,” the look of pity in her eyes was enough to make you sick.

Taking a deep breath, you set the pizza down on the top of the dresser, turning back to Carter with a stoic expression.

“Car, listen to me,” you said. “He’s not ‘doing’ anything to me. This is not just like high school, because I’m not who I was in high school. I know you’re used to taking care of me, but believe it or not, in the four years we’ve lived apart, I’ve actually gotten pretty good at taking care of myself. This is not a cry for help, it’s not me isolating and spiraling. This is me taking care of myself, and it might not look like how you take care of yourself, but we’re not the same. Please just go downstairs and let me do what I need to do. I’m not a hurt little kid who needs saving, okay?”

Her brows knit tight, she scanned you from head to toe, like she could pick out any deception in your words by sight.

“Fine,” she said. “I’m glad you know what you need. But…just, don’t hide away for too long, okay?”

“I’m just gonna do what I need to do tonight, and tomorrow we can get back to our fun trip, okay?” You promised.

She thought about it for a long moment, you knew she was having trouble not asking you what had happened when you were gone this morning. The two of you hadn’t even discussed Cassie’s arrival yet, and the millions of texts from her when your phone finally turned back on told you she had plenty to say, but right now you just needed for her to say nothing. Which she must’ve understood, because she finally nodded and slipped back downstairs.

The rest of the evening was spent watching your comfort show, eating your pizza and blocking out the muffled voices of the group wafting in from the patio through your window. Cozy in the blanket of solitude you’d wrapped around yourself was enough to eventually lull you into a decently restful sleep. Curtains on today, tomorrow would be better.

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The empty mattress was cold against your reaching hand. You woke up reaching for something, you weren’t sure what, the foggy dream you’d just had slipped away with the darkness as a stripe of sunlight leaked through the blinds and right over your closed eyelids.

With a groan, you sat up. You had done the whole self-care thing, a night in, letting the emotions settle and tears dry, and as you’d promised Carter, you should probably get back to the trip.

Blinking in the bright bathroom light, you turned the faucet on and ran some cold water over your face. The chilly water waking you up, you patted dry and blinked your eyes open into the mirror.

It was immediate, the way your gaze dropped to your own neck in the reflection. Right there splattered above your collarbone- three purple splotches in the shape of Rafe’s mouth. A constellation of reminders that you’d been so close to truly being his.

You gasped, fingertips flying up to skim over the tender spots. Flashes of your time with him in the car came back to you, your legs pinned to either side of his waist and his lips pinned to your throat. A swirl of desire and regret churned in your stomach at the memory.

By your best estimate, it had been about forty-three minutes total. Forty-three sets of sixty seconds that you’d been happy, known he was yours, kissed him and been with him and felt good about all of it. Forty-three minutes between him confessing his feelings for you and him dropping your hand in front of Cassie.

A wave of sadness crashed into you with no warning, one thought echoing in your mind, so loud and sad it robbed the air from your lungs; forty-three minutes would be all you’d ever get.

Hot tears stung your cheeks as they fell quick and heavy. You didn’t bother finishing your skincare routine, or trying to self-soothe with some kind of platitude. You'd been perfectly, blissfully happy for forty-three minutes and you’d never be that happy again. You shuffled back down the hall and into bed, stopping first to pull Topper’s hoodie back in, as if keeping the hickies out of sight might make them heal faster.

Fuck greeting the day, fuck trying to end the trip on a positive note. Grief climbed over you and pinned your limp body to the mattress, clobbering you until the tears turned to dry, ragged breaths. You pulled out your laptop and restarted your comfort show. Maybe you’d just stay here, in the darkness, until the memory of him and the marks he’d left with his lips faded in time.

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The mattress sunk with the weight of someone climbing into bed next to you. For the briefest of moments a hope that you knew was absurd flashed across your mind - maybe it was him.

“Good morning,” Carter’s voice whispered, squashing the silly thought.

You didn’t open your eyes to greet her, just readjusted in the bed to face away from her, pulling the covers higher over your chin.

“Time to rise and shine,” she poked your side, an annoying, cutesy sing-song effect added to her voice.

“No thank you,” you grumbled into your pillow.

“Okay so get this,” she continued chipperly, ignoring your denial. “You know how Jack’s family owns like a bunch of resorts and country clubs and shit? Well they own this bougie ass golf resort in Miami and he got us in for the day so we can go golfing and to the spa with all the millionaires.”

“You hate golfing,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, but we don’t have to actually golf,” she waved off your logic. “It’s just about wearing cute outfits and looking hot on a golf cart.”

You rustled in the sheets, turning on your side to face her.

“As inviting as that sounds, I’m gonna pass,” you said, settling in to go back to sleep.

“No, no,” she reached out to pull the covers off of you, making you groan in protest. “You said you were only gonna be sad for a night, and that today we’d have fun. Well it’s today, time to stop being sad! And you like golfing, so let’s go.”

“I’m not sad,” you lied. “I’m just tired and I don’t want to go.”

“Come on, we’ve barely spent any time together and I’m leaving soon.” Ah, so she was finally pulling the guilt trip card, you wondered when she’d make that play. “Also we have a lot to talk about, we haven’t even discussed the wicked witch of the west blowing into town.”

Despite your current annoyance with her, you laughed at this, no need to clarify who she was referring to.

“It’s because I’m trying not to think about her, actually,” you said, pulling the comforter back over your shoulders. “Let me get back to my dreams where she’s far, far away in munchkin land.”

Carter tsked, pulling the covers down yet again. You shot daggers at her with your glare, the game already getting old.

She sighed, “I know Rafe dropping your hand in front of Cassie really put a damper on things, but I just really think it’s time to move -”

Your eyes narrowed, sitting up against your pillows in surprise.

“How do you know Rafe dropped my hand in front of Cassie?”

Carter’s eyes widened when she realized the slip up she’d made, suddenly lost for words, which was a rare issue for her.

“I just…we were gonna come down and then….” she stumbled over her explanation, hoping you’d allow her sentence to fizzle out, but your questioning glare didn’t give her any reprieve.

“And then?”

“We kind of…heard you. You and Rafe when you came in from wherever you were,” she finally admitted.

Your jaw ticked, nodding without meeting her gaze, your passive aggression palpable.

“Who’s ‘we’?” You asked, avoiding her eyes and pulling back out your laptop to load up your comfort show.

“Me and Topper,” she pulled at a loose thread on your comforter. “And some of the others, but only for part of it. I’m sorry, we shouldn’t have listened, but I was worried about you.”

“How much did you hear?” You said flatly, collecting the remaining information like a medical intake form, assessing the potential damage of the mortifying story she was telling.

“Me and Topper heard, like, all of it,” she confessed. “Everyone else heard just some pieces.”

You and Carter didn’t fight, you never yelled at her, but the frustration and betrayal bubbling in your chest was threatening to end that streak. You needed a distraction or you’d lose it entirely. Hoping she’d take the hint, you pressed play on the show, shutting back down. She lingered though, pushing the conversation to the exact place you’d hoped it wouldn’t go.

“I mean what he did sucked and you should be pissed, but, you were only holding hands. At least you didn’t like hook up with him or anything. Things can just go back to the way they were before the trip. You didn’t hook up with him, right?”

“Right,” you half-lied.

Your anxiety over potentially having just decieved your sister manifested itself into the cartoonish image of a courtroom in your mind, your pencil-skirted lawyer standing between you and the judge: “your honor, the term “hook-up” could mean any number of things. If my client’s sister had wanted the whole story, she should have been more specific.”

But you knew Carter, any version of the story that didn’t include every juicy detail may as well have been a knife in her back, she’d be pissed if she found out. Subconsciously, you adjusted the hood of your sweatshirt, pulling it higher to ensure it fully covered your neck.

She had eavesdropped, and you had lied. It would all come out in the wash. At least, that’s what you decided to tell yourself.

It didn’t matter anyway, you realized with a fresh dose of unbearable sadness, because you and Rafe would never be together like you were this morning again.

You twisted quickly in the bed, angling away from her so she didn’t see the tears welling on your lash line and turned up the volume on your show.

She stayed in the bed for a while, trying a few more times to start conversation and coax you to join them on the golf trip, but you’d perfected the art of the cold shoulder, blocking out her every attempt to get you to get out of the bed.

After maybe thirty minutes, she sighed and crawled out from under the covers, pulling out her phone as soon as she was outside your door and texting Topper: it’s worse than we thought.

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“Did you try telling her -”

“I’m telling you, I tried everything. She just shut me down. She’s really mad I think,” Carter’s face was pinched tight with worry as she whispered to Topper outside your door.

“Okay, well maybe, I dunno, you’re just not the person she wants to talk to right now…” he suggested, eager to help but hesitant to upset her any further.

“What, you think you’d fare better in there?” She snapped.

“I mean, I could try,” he shrugged.

She considered this. Maybe it would be beneficial to have a neutral party. Or maybe you’d scream at him, but either way he’d at least get more of a reaction out of you than she did, right?

“Fine, be my guest,” she motioned towards your door.

Topper knocked lightly, eliciting a delayed “um, yeah?” from your voice behind the door. He slowly opened it and slipped inside.

Only a few minutes later, he emerged from the room, his face ashen, wide eyes skittishly avoiding Carter.

“Well?” She pried.

“I don’t think I was the person she wanted to talk to either,” he said vaguely.

“Did she say anything?” She pressed.

“Oh, she said a lot of things…” he scratched the back of his neck, still not looking at her.

“Maybe she’s mad at you too, for eavesdropping,” Carter puzzled. “Maybe we need someone who didn’t hear much of their fight.”

Knocking on doors down the hallway, Carter coaxed the rest of the group, minus Cassie, Sabrina, and Rafe, who were nowhere to be found, out of their rooms and into Mission: Impossible - Get You to Leave Your Bed.

They each agreed, albeit reluctantly, to tiptoe their way into your room and try and talk you into coming out and joining the golf trip. One by one they emerged defeated. Not only had they not convinced you of anything, it seemed from Carter’s perspective that you had your own mission - to drag them all down into an existential crisis with you.

No new information to provide Carter about you, they each came out with some new insecurity that you’d talked them into.

Maddie was first, coming out with sad, round eyes and asking Carter, “do you think I’m smart enough for med school? What if I just wasted the last four years being pre-med?!”

Then Jack, who came out with his hand on his face, “do you think I should reverse my nose job? What if my face never looks normal again?”

Even Tom attempted to warm you up, telling Topper, “I think she’s right, I am only in finance to get my dad’s approval. Why doesn’t he love me for me, man?”

With each friend who returned from a conversation with you full of anguish, Carter and Topper exchanged worried looks. What exactly was going on in that bedroom? You were just one girl, one who typically wouldn’t hurt a fly, and yet this morning you’d apparently chosen violence, no one safe from your emotional carnage.

Also with each friend who emerged defeated, Topper suggested calling in Rafe for reinforcement, only for Carter to shoot the idea down. But he’d never seen Tom spiral like this, and it was his final straw. He disappeared into his room with some excuse about needing to check on the afternoon’s tee-time.

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Rafe hadn’t run in years. At least, not like this.

Sure, he went for a jog now and then or opted for the treadmill between leg and back day every so often, but he hadn’t done this kind of no-holds-barred, all-out-sprint since he was an athlete, and the burning in his lungs was reminding him why.

Plus, running provided all this space for his mind to wander. When he was lifting or doing some high intensity shit, he didn’t have time to think. An open road and nothing but his own two legs? The opportunities for his brain to spiral were endless.

Still, today he kept running, the sand of the long beach kicking up with each heavy step. He’d peeled his shirt off over a mile ago, sweat pooling everywhere possible as breath became more and more illusive. He could feel the early morning sun burning the tops of his shoulders, he knew he’d pay for not wearing sunscreen later.

Every time he was tempted to stop, some invisible force nipped at his heels, propelling him forward. It felt peculiarly like nightmares he’d had as a kid, though this time it wasn’t a monster chasing him, but something much more elusive and indefinable. And he knew if he stopped, it would all catch up to him; everything he’d been trying to avoid for years. He wasn’t sure he’d survive the ambush.

Music blared through his headphones, a playlist he’d listened to so many times that he barely heard it anymore. Suddenly, the music cut, his phone buzzing against his thigh in his gym shorts pocket.

Thankful for the excuse to slow down, he pulled out his phone to check the text, it was from Topper: dude something’s up with her, u gotta come help us. we’re trying to get her out of bed, she won’t talk to anyone. but she might talk to u

Rafe’s breathlessness suddenly had nothing to do with overworking it on the cardio. He didn’t expect you to be a ball of sunshine the day after he’d done something so stupid to you, but he didn’t understand what Topper meant by “somethings up.” The fact that he was positive he was actually the last person you’d want to talk to right now only added to his shortness of breath.

It was all wrong, none of this happened the way it was supposed to. And now he’d possibly broken you for good. Maybe it was time to pack his bags.

To add insult to injury, standing along the shoreline, only about ten feet in the distance, was the other girl who’s heart he’d broken, glowing in the sunrise and looking like a goddamn marble statue. Jesus Rafe, he thought, you really know how to lose ‘em.

He tried to duck out of sight, but she had already clocked him, standing at the edge of the water in her stylish swimsuit and wrap looking like a fucking greek goddess. She was the ideal female specimen, and yet, as he noticed with curiosity, there was nothing in him that was attracted to her. If anything, he wanted to be as far away from her as possible. But she smiled softly and raised her hand in a polite wave, and despite what you may believe now, he wasn’t a total asshole.

Giving her a small wave back, he approached the shoreline, matching her stance looking out at the water. The moment was silent and awkward for just a second, Cassie flicking her hair off her shoulder and digging her toe into the sand as Rafe searched helplessly for words.

“You look good, Cass,” is what he finally landed on.

She looked at him, shielding her eyes from the sun. He expected her to tell him he looked good too, a smile already forming on his lips as a response to her incoming compliment.

“You’re an idiot, Rafe.”

“I- wh- what the fuck?” He was so thrown he couldn’t even find words to express it.

“You were with her yesterday morning when you saw me, right? Like with her with her?” She surmised, a small upturn of her lips at his confused look.

“I’m sorry you saw that, I tried not to make it weird for you. I didn’t know you were gonna see us,” he stammered, the misplaced pity in his voice only making her laugh at him more.

“Rafe, you dumped me four years ago,” she chuckled. “Believe me when I tell you I’m over it. Also, considering the fact that you dumped me for her, I really wasn’t that surprised to see you together.”

“I didn’t break up with you for her,” he corrected, reiterating a point he’d made a thousand times, and had yet to successfully convince her of.

“Oh c’mon Rafe,” she turned towards him, hands on her hips in exasperation. “Let’s not do the whole ‘I just needed to focus on college’ thing again. We’re both adults now, can we just be honest? You dumped me because you were in love with her. And based on the look on your face yesterday before you noticed me, I’d say you still are.”

A deep crease wrinkled Rafe’s forehead as he avoided her gaze, feeling like a little kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He actually thought he did a pretty good job keeping it from her, but apparently she’d clocked it easily, even all those years ago.

“So you knew? Like the whole time?” He mumbled.

Cassie scoffed, “I was a bitch in high school, but I wasn’t stupid.”

“You weren’t a bitch,” he tried to console her, though she didn’t need it, her easy smile making it clear she’d made her peace with this fact.

“You should ask her if she thinks I was a bitch,” she gestured up toward your bedroom window. “I think she’d agree with me, seeing as she was pretty much my main target.”

“Yeah, you could’ve been nicer to her, I guess,” he conceded.

“You could’ve too,” she pointed out.

A spark of shame flared in his gut. You had tried to tell him back then, tried to explain the ways Cassie mistreated you behind closed doors when nobody was looking, but he always brushed it off. Eager to have an excuse to avoid confronting Cassie about it, and if he was being honest, summing it up to a girl being oversensitive. God, maybe he was the bitch.

“I’m sorry if it made you feel weird yesterday, seeing us together. I was trying to get out of the moment without hurting anyone and I think I may have hurt you both,” he explained.

Cassie just shook her head with a small smile, he had grown physically since the last time she saw him, but he still had the social awareness of a seven year old.

Silently, she raised her left hand, displaying the massive emerald cut diamond on her ring finger, “I mean it when I say I’m fine, Rafe.”

His eyes widened, blinded by the diamond’s sheen in the sunlight. It must’ve been five, maybe six carats.

“Holy shit,” he grinned. “You’re, uh…”

“Getting married,” she nodded. “When I said I was over you…”

“No, yeah, message received,” he chuckled, feeling foolish.

It dawned on him slowly, the realization that seeing him with you had no impact on Cassie at all, except maybe to confirm suspicions she already had. There had been no good reason to drop your hand after all, he wasn’t sparing anyone’s feelings, he was only hurting yours. And now because of it, he may have lost you for good.

“Shit,” he groaned, his shoulders falling.

Cassie gave him a sympathetic look, reading the regret all over his face.

“Was she mad?” She clued.

“Um, yeah, more than I’ve ever seen her,” he said.

“Good. It’s about damn time,” she huffed.

Rafe’s brow furrowed in confusion, stunned by her words and apparent lack of sympathy.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He scoffed.

“She should’ve given you shit a long time ago, Rafe. She deserves to give us both a hard time actually. But now that you guys are together -”

“We’re not together,” he blurted out, surprising Cassie and himself with the statement.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me, Rafe. You still haven’t told her how you feel? God, I swear, Cameron, you’re dumber than you look.”

“No, no, I did. I told her, I asked her to be with me. But she - then I…I think it’s too late,” he struggled with his words like he was new to the language.

Cassie nodded, making a nearly inaudible “hmm” noise that he recognized well. It was the same noise she’d made when he talked about you back then, letting him know she clearly had more to say but was holding back.

“Say it,” he smirked at her familiar mannerism.

“Oh, nothing…”

“You’ve got no poker face, Bryant. Never have,” he jibbed.

“I just think…I don’t know,” she stalled. “It’s really not my place, and I’m definitely not going to pretend I really know her, but I don’t think you wait for someone for fifteen years just to throw in the towel over ten seconds of stupidity. Which it was, really stupid” she gave him a disapproving look, which he accepted, knowing she was right, “but still…you have your flaws, Rafe, god knows I know that. But I still think you’re the kind of guy a girl would wait for. And I think she’s the kind of girl you don’t give up on.”

Rafe took in a deep breath, his eyes grazing back over the horizon, considering her words. He couldn’t help but blush a little at the way she said he’s someone worth waiting for. It was the nicest thing anyone’s said to him in a long time. And her point about you being the kind of girl he shouldn’t give up on? That was the truest thing anyone had said in a long time.

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he turned his head towards her slightly.

“What?” She rolled her eyes at his obvious amusement.

“Are you…dare I say…rooting for me and her?” He teased.

Reluctantly, she smiled back, her lips twisted into a knowing grin as she watched some jet skiers a few yards off shore.

“Falling in love made me soft, okay?” She defended herself.

“I’m happy for you,” he told her. “I really am.”

“I’m happy for you too, Rafe,” she said earnestly. “Or I will be, when you get your head out of your ass and go up there and make things right with her.”

Nerves twisted in his stomach. He knew you didn’t want to see him, knew you’d push him away, knew he deserved it. But if he left here without trying, without fighting for you, he’d never forgive himself.

He passed a sidelong glance at Cassie’s ring. It was strange, you all really were at the age where things like marriage and families, things like forever, were suddenly real and within reach. It should make him nervous, should make him spiral into an existential crisis and hide from commitment. But when he thought of you, it didn’t feel strange, because with you forever had always been real, and if it wasn’t meant to be, then the universe was going to have to pry it from his fucking hands.

Cassie gave him an urging look, nodding back towards the house as if to say, “it’s now or never, dude.”

He nodded, a deep breath and a thankful smile to his ex, and ran towards you.

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Yet again, your bedroom door opened with someone emerging who wasn’t you. Running out of options, Carter had sent Kelce in. Maybe he could annoy you into getting out of bed, it was worth a shot. She didn’t really expect it to work, but she definitely didn’t expect him to come back out sniffling.

“Kelce, are you crying?” She asked him, disbelief raising her voice an octave.

“When did your sister get so mean?” He asked, voice cracking.

The group tried and failed to stifle their laughter. Topper threw his arm around Kelce’s shoulder.

“Hey, hey guys we need to normalize men crying,” he scolded the group. “Even if they sound like little girls when they do it.”

Laughter echoed through the hall again, Kelce storming away indignantly, nearly bowled over by Rafe, who appeared suddenly at the top of the stairs.

He was still shirtless, half-dried sweat making his sculpted torso glisten under the hallway’s lights. A body that made even the straight men on the second floor swoon a little.

The laughing stopped immediately at his arrival, Rafe’s sweaty, shirtless form breaking through the huddle.

“She still in there?” He asked Topper, his face serious as hell.

“Yeah man,” Topper answered.

“You’re probably the last person she wants to talk to right now, Rafe,” Carter snipped.

“Kinda looks like you are, actually,” Rafe shot back at her, gesturing to her position on the other side of the hall, making her jaw flex with the force of the scowl she aimed at him. “Give me five minutes.”

Rafe slipped through the crack in your door, shutting it firmly behind him.

“Sorry, but I thought it was time to bring in the big guns,” Topper gave Carter an apologetic smile.

“‘Big guns’ is right,” Maddie giggled, fanning herself dramatically at the memory of Rafe’s figure. “I mean, goddamn.”

Carter slumped against the wall, arms crossed, hating the whole thing, hating him.

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“Oh my god,” your heart raced at the sight of Rafe, half naked and panting, bursting into your room. You pulled the blankets higher over you, feeling suddenly exposed even though you were the fully clothed one between the two of you.

“Good morning,” He chipped, throwing your curtains open and flooding the room, making you cry out his name in protest, hiding further in your bed.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You groaned.

“Can we talk now, please?” He asked, standing in the window, his sculpted body illuminated by the Florida sun, framed by the glinting rise and fall of the ocean in the distance. He looked like he belonged on the cover of a romance novel. It made you angry, knowing there was too much history to be able to justify getting out of bed and climbing into his arms, which if you were being honest was all you really wanted to do at that moment. “Have you thought about my question from yesterday?”

Suddenly, you weren’t pissed at him for dropping your hand, or for the prom thing, or any of the other similar stories that accompanied it, enough heartbreak to write a book of memoirs. You were mad at him because he asked you the question: “are you my girl?” in the first place and now, looking up at him, you knew how you needed to answer.

“No.”

“Look, I know I did something shitty, but it’s been like twenty-four hours now and if we could just talk -”

“No, Rafe. I’m saying, I have thought about the question, and the answer is no. I don’t want to be with you. I’m done.”

He just stood there, he just fucking stood there, looking down at you for a full minute before reacting.

When he finally did, his bottom lip stuck out as he nodded, sticking his hands in his pockets and strolling casually across your room. Moving slowly, he stopped to survey the jewelry, makeup and other knick-knacks on your vanity, running his fingers over them like a restless kid in a store. You sat in bed with a furrowed brow and watched him with confusion, his muscular shoulders relaxed as they finally shrugged in response.

“No,” he shook his head, turning back to face you.

“I don’t remember asking you a question,” you were sitting up against the headboard now, arms crossed as you glared at him from under the hoodie.

“Have some coffee, think it over, we’ll talk about it,” he rambled, so casually it made your blood boil.

“I have thought about it! I’ve been in here for a whole day thinking about it,” you gestured around the room to emphasize your point.

He sighed, leaning back against your dresser on his arms, his triceps flexing as he looked down at you in the bed, “nah you’ve been in here hiding. What are you even doing?”

“I’m fine, Rafe,” you rolled your eyes. You hadn’t wanted to open up to any of the people who had come into the room before him, but you wanted his sympathy least of all. Good thing, you suppose, because he didn’t give it to you.

“I didn’t ask you if you were fine, I asked you what you were doing,” he said plainly.

Once again, Rafe was surprising you. You assumed when you saw him again, he’d be groveling, begging for you back, and you’d have to push him away. But here he was, not a hint of longing in his voice, just a blank face and a carved body you couldn’t believe was actually real. He wasn’t begging for you back, if anything he was being a little rude. God, what was wrong with you that it made you want him a little more?

“I’m watching TV,” you stammered dumbly, using your last sliver of willpower to direct your eyes to the laptop screen and away from him. “And getting over you.”

“Turn it off,” he responded. “And get out of bed.”

“I don’t know if you heard me just now, but I rejected you,” you were starting to get angry now. What was really pissing you off was the fact that out of everyone who’d come in here today, Rafe was the only one matching your energy. And it was successfully throwing you off balance. “I don’t know why you’re even still in here.”

“Yeah and I don’t know if you heard me, but I said no. If you wanna pissed at me, fine. But I’m not giving up on you and you’re not gonna spend the rest of this trip in here rotting because you’d hate yourself for wasting your last few days with Carter by freezing her out. So get up.”

“Stop acting like you know the first fucking thing about me, Rafe,” you rolled your eyes, sitting up straight on the mattress, the closest you’d been to getting up all morning.

“Oh don’t I? Really,” he looked around the room, gesturing towards the half empty pizza box from the night before, “pepperoni and onions? Extra cheese?”

“Okay, so you’ve seen me order pizza before, that doesn’t mean -”

“And I betcha I know what show you’re watching, the one you played like a million times junior year. Except you’re skipping the season finales because you don’t like endings. Which is how I know you’ll be so mad at yourself if you let Carter leave for the UK without making some good memories here with her.”

Rafe walked to the edge of the bed, resting forward on his hands and leaning toward you, the mattress sinking under his strength, causing you to slide towards the spot he was pushing it down. “You done with me? Fine. But I’m not done with you, so I’m not leaving this room until you get out of the fucking bed.”

“Get out,” you said through gritted teeth, scrambling to fight the forces of gravity and scoot away from him.

He only pushed the mattress down harder, making you tumble towards him, “no.”

You used your arms and feet to push yourself away from him as much as you could, needing desperately not to touch him, not to remind your body what his felt like, determined that you’d never let yourself feel him again.

His eyes were steely, expression fixed. He wasn’t leaving, and you’d never be able to overpower him physically, all you had left was a verbal defense.

Your chin wobbled with the angry tears you were failing to fight back, and for the second time today, you lied to protect yourself, “I hate you.”

He nodded that same, pursed lip nod, standing straight again, just looking down at you with an immovable defiance.

“I’m not leaving,” he repeated.

Heart pounding with regret and adrenaline, you scooted back to the edge of the mattress. A disbelief that you’d just said what you said and the nauseating desire to crawl into his arms and beg for forgiveness, even though you knew you should stand your ground, you rose shakily from the bed. Needing to get away from him, and whatever version of yourself you’d just turned into. Desperate to escape with as few people seeing you cry as possible, you pushed past the crowd outside your door without a word and beelined toward the bathroom for a long, hot shower.

A few moments later, Rafe emerged from the room as well, holding the pizza box and other trash collected from your hiding place.

“Woah you did it,” Topper congratulated him. “How’d you get her up?”

Rafe ignored him, his eyes on Carter, who watched him with a suspicious glare. He didn’t speak, disappearing back down the hall. Once he’d tossed your trash, he stood at the sink trying to breathe and make peace with what just happened, what you’d said to him.

As the ocean waves crashed violently outside the wide kitchen windows, a similar uneasy tide rose in his chest, threatening to spill over and destroy everything in sight.

Before he knew it, he was running again. He made it a half a mile down the beach before the inevitable caught up with him, squeezing his chest with a sharp pain. He doubled over, gripping his heart and wincing as the muscle constricted, his heartbeat erratic and vision blurry from lack of oxygen. His knees slammed into the hot sand as his body crashed out one limb at a time.

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“Rafe? Rafe, are you okay?! Rafe!!”

(Chapter 9 part 2)

a/n: okay ik this part is a lot of establishing things for the next part but part two will be nice and juicy and even have some giggles and good times

please note the taglist for this series is closed. for updates when I post, follow @whytheylosttheirminds-works and turn on notifs <3

2K notes · View notes

kwanisms · 7 months ago

Text

Kinktober 「10:14」 — j.wonwoo

» seventeen menu | wonwoo menu | kinktober masterlist «

➮ vampire!Wonwoo × fem!Reader wc: 3.8k summary: Y/N has always avoided sex during her period in the past. Not because she found it gross but because her partners did. Wonwoo is different. Wonwoo loves it. Wonwoo also happens to be a vampire so he might be a bit biased. genres/themes/au: angst/fluff/smut; supernatural, horror, thriller; non idol au, monster idol au warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, supernatural and horror themes, vampires, mentions of: food consumption, blood & blood consumption (vampire, remember?), periods and menstruation, vampiric powers & abilities; sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut! taglist has been moved to reblogs join my taglists! kinktober taglist is closed! Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. AGELESS BLOGS WILL ALSO BE BLOCKED.

a/n: i've already stated in the smut warnings but if blood bothers you, DO NOT READ THIS. if period sex bothers you, DO NOT READ THIS. This is filthy, nasty, and i don't care lol i've done my part to warn those who don't want to see this. to those of you that do read this, i see you and i'm kissing ur forehead. wonwoo is a vampire, blood does no phase him at all. this is for my bestie Sky cause this is her main ult so, enjoy this, my love! as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), bloodplay (if it makes you uncomfortable, LOOK AWAY. i’m not responsible for your media consumption. I’m warning you now. If anything to do with blood makes you uncomfortable, this fic is not for you!), period sex (again. Look away if you don’t like it.), oral (m receiving, f receiving), fingering (f receiving), unprotected sex (use condoms. Wonwoo doesn’t need to cause this ain’t twilight), use of pet names (darling, baby, etc.), soft dom!Wonwoo, sub!Reader, I think that’s everything but if I missed something, let me know! kinks: Bloodplay + period sex dialogue prompt: ❛❛ Aw darling, I almost believe you. ❜❜

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“Are you sure there isn’t anything else?” your boyfriend asked over the phone. “All I have here are pads, chocolate, sliced pepperonis, and root beer. Do you need a heating pad or some pain relief?”

You let out a soft laugh as you leaned back against your pillows. “No,” you answered. “I have the heating pad and I’ve already taken enough ibuprofen to knock out a child,” you continued. “I just need those things.” Silence fell over you as you adjusted the heating pad that was tucked under your blanket.

“And maybe you,” you added in an undertone. You heard a deep chuckle on the other side of the phone. “Well, let me check out and then once I’m there, I’m all yours, baby,” Wonwoo answered. “Okay, please hurry,” you said as another cramp hit, a sharp pain deep in your abdomen making you wince and whimper in pain.

Wonwoo frowned as he heard you whimper. He hated seeing and hearing you in pain, it made his non beating heart hurt. “Can you open a window?” he asked as he headed towards the self checkout. “Yeah.. I think so. Why?” you asked, confusion in your voice.

“So I can just come in without bothering with the front door,” Wonwoo answered as he started to set his items down, scanning them while holding the phone to his ear. “Jeon Wonwoo, you are not flying into my open window on the twentieth story! You will use the lobby elevator like everyone else,” you scolded.

Wonwoo held back a laugh as a smirk crossed his face as he deposited his scanned items into a plastic bag. “Unless you want everyone to know you’re a vampire, I suggest you act like a person and walk through the front door like all guests do.” As he finished scanning, he tucked his phone between his ear and shoulder as he fished out his wallet.

“Alright, alright,” he said as he pulled out his card, holding it over the reader until the light blinked and the reader beeped. He slid the card back into his wallet, stuffing it back in his pocket as he grabbed his phone and bag, nodding towards the store attendant and making a move for the exit.

“I promise I will walk through the front door, use the elevator, and walk to your door like every other normal, boring human,” he whispered as he exited the shop onto the sidewalk. “Good,” you replied, sounding pleased. “Let yourself in,” you added quickly. “You know the code.”

The walk to your place was only ten minutes for him from the shop where he’d picked up the items you requested and then some. The thought of flying to your window and entering your apartment that way was even more appealing as he forced himself to walk the same pace as those around him. It would have saved so much time but he did promise.

The elevator ride up was slow but thankfully empty and when he reached your floor, he walked to your door at the end of the hall, punching in the code on the number pad which beeped and he let himself in, opening the door and shutting it behind him.

Your apartment was cool, mimicking the cool temperatures outside over the misty city. He walked further into the apartment after removing his shoes. He walked into the kitchen, setting the bag on the counter and unpacking the things he bought. As he put the bag away, he heard a small whine coming from your room. He walked down to your room in a split second and carefully pushed open the door, peering into the room.

The curtains had been drawn, leaving only a sliver of light coming into the room. The TV was on, some show you weren’t paying attention to playing in the background. On the middle of the bed, wrapped in blankets and surrounded by a small mountain of plushies was a lump which he could correctly assume was you. He let himself into the room, crossing to the edge of your bed and removing his coat which he threw on the chair in the corner.

He gently climbed onto the bed, the movement making your body dip with the mattress.

You turned slowly, looking up at him, only your face visible from a small hole in your blanket burrito. Wonwoo let out a chuckle as he laid down behind you, sliding an arm under your entire body and pulled you back against him. “You feeling okay, sweetheart?” he asked softly.

“I’m fine,” you grumbled but he could tell you felt anything but fine.

“Aw, darling,” he said softly, a hint of amusement to his voice. “I almost believe you.”

After a moment, he felt you shake your head no and he only tightened his grip. “It hurts,” you said in a broken voice. “I know,” he murmured, lifting his head and moving a hand to pull the blanket back to expose your head. “I know it hurts, baby,” he repeated, pressing a kiss to the back of your head. “And you can’t take any more medicine?” You shook your head again.

“I’ve already taken so much. It’s just not working,” you cried softly. Wonwoo grimaced as your body jerked in pain, doubling over. “Let’s get you something to eat,” he murmured, pressing another kiss to the back of your head. “No,” you answered, tucking your head into the blankets. Wonwoo chuckled as he sat up, pulling you into his lap so you were on your back, looking up at him.

“I’m sure you’ll feel better after you eat something,” he said, gently caressing your cheek. “Come on,” he said as he helped you sit up, unwrapping the blankets. You whined as the cool air hit your exposed skin. “You can wrap back up once you get off the bed,” Wonwoo said as he got to his feet, holding your blanket. You scrambled up to join him and he quickly wrapped the blanket around you, enveloping you in its warmth.

“I got all your favorites,” he said as he guided you to the door and down the hall to the living area. You climbed up into one of the stools at the island as he walked into the kitchen, turning on the overhead light. You looked at the spread with wide eyes. “You really went all out,” you said softly.

Wonwoo smiled, walking over to the sink and turning on the faucet to wash his hands. He then moved to open one of your cupboards, grabbing one of your pots, filling it with water and placing it on the stove, turning the burner on. “I was thinking army stew,” he said as he moved to the fridge, peering inside to see what you had, grabbing a package of tiny sausages, a couple eggs, some cheese, and veggies.

You watched as he worked, cutting veggies faster than your eyes could keep up. He added the soup base for the ramen as well as a few other sauce items before adding the sausages, some spam he found in the pantry, fishcake, and the veggies. As those boiled, he cracked the eggs, adding them to a bowl and whisking them with chopsticks.

He added the noodles, cheese and carefully poured the egg mixture in once the noodles softened and placed a lid over it. While it finished cooking, he opened the convenience store tteokbokki, adding the sauce packet and water before placing it in the microwave.

Once everything was done, he moved you to the table, setting up the hotplate before bringing over the pan of stew and setting it down on the hotplate. He finished setting the table, grabbing something to drink and set those down as well before sitting with you. He filled your bowl first before serving himself and you shook your head.

“You didn’t have to do all this,” you said softly. “I would have been fine with just some convenience store ramen.” Wonwoo smiled as you took a bite, eyes fluttering shut as you enjoyed the taste. “That right there is exactly why I did it,” he said, picking up a piece of spicy rice cake and eating it. “Seeing you happy and enjoying things makes it all worth it.”

After you had your fill and the pan was cleared, you indulged in some chocolate before returning to your room to watch some TV with Wonwoo, curled up into his side. The food had made you feel better but the cramps were back and you kept whining as every contraction made you press your face into your boyfriend’s chest.

Wonwoo kept one arm around you, holding you against him while he watched the TV screen. He wasn’t really paying attention, not when he could hear every little sound of pain you made, felt every time your heart rate kicked up or the jerk of your body as the pain became too unbearable for you.

“You know,” he said softly, rubbing your shoulder soothingly. “Orgasms can help alleviate menstrual cramps.” You lifted your head to look at him through squinted eyes. “I’m just sayin’!” he said with a shrug. You buried your face in his chest again. “Isn’t that, like, gross though?” you asked, your voice muffled. “Is what gross?” Wonwoo asked.

You lifted your head. “Period sex. Aren’t most guys, like, grossed out by that?”

Wonwoo stared at you dumbfounded. Did you really just say that to him of all people?

“Babe,” he said softly. “I don’t know if you know this,” he started. “But I’m a vampire. Blood does not bother me in the slightest.” Your eyes widened comically. “Oh, right,” you said softly. “But like, that much blood? Wouldn’t that send you into a feeding frenzy or something?”

Wonwoo’s laughter resonated around the room as he threw his head back. “I’m not a shark! I’m a vampire,” he replied, chest bouncing as he laughed. “I can control myself a lot more than you think. Vampires aren’t animals. We don’t smell blood and just go feral,” he continued.

Your cheeks burned as he dispelled your assumptions and you suddenly felt very bad about judging him in that regard. “Sorry,” you said softly. Wonwoo pressed a kiss to your forehead. “For what?” he asked. “Unless you’ve dated other vampires, I don’t think that’s something you would rightfully know. I’m not upset, baby. It’s just a silly notion that movies and television have instilled in the populace.”

Silence fell over the two of you, only the sound of the TV playing softly in the background. “I’d like to help,” he said suddenly. “I’d like to help you feel better and if giving you an orgasm helps, I’m not gonna complain.” Your cheeks burned as you processed his words. “Won’t it get messy?” you asked, your voice meek. Wonwoo kissed the top of your head before getting up and disappearing for a moment.

When he returned, it was with a few of your old red towels. Ones you’d stained in the past when dying your hair at home. “I’m sure you won’t mind if these get stained?” he asked. You shook your head, watching him move to set the towels on the bed before he disappeared again, quick as lightning. He returned with a container of wipes which he set on the bed side table.

“Up,” he said as he grabbed the towels. You scrambled up and watched as he placed the towels down, overlapping them. “Put your blanket over there so you don’t get blood on it,” he instructed, pointing to the chair in the corner. You did as he said and then turned back to face the bed. “C’mere,” he said, holding his hand out.

You walked around the bed, taking his hand, letting out a giggle as he pulled you against him, cupping your cheek and pulling you into a soft kiss. “Do you trust me?” he asked softly, lips ghosting over yours. You nodded in response as his hands moved, sliding down to your hips and pulling you towards him as his lips met yours again, tongue swiping over your bottom lip.

Your lips parted, moaning as you felt his tongue slip into your mouth, caressing your own tongue. His hands continued to roam up and down your body, squeezing your sides, the curve of your ass, cupping your chest. You could feel the heat starting to pool in your belly as you felt his semi-hard cock press against your stomach.

Wonwoo pulled back, breaking the kiss to turn you around to face the bed. His hands fell to your hips, pulling your ass back against his growing erection with a groan. “Get on the bed,” he breathed, lips trailing down your neck to your shoulder.

You carefully climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself in the middle of the towels as your boyfriend removed his sweater and pants, leaving on his underwear and white tee as he crawled onto the bed. He pushed the hem of your shirt up, kissing your exposed stomach up towards your chest.

You let out a gasp as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipple, his mouth claiming it as he teased the bud. You ran your fingers through his hair, head falling back against the pillows. Wonwoo pushed your shirt up past your chest, his hand stabbing and kneading your breast. He pulled away, tongue and lips repeating the same thing on your other nipple before he had you sit up so he could remove your top.

You laid back against the pillows as he kissed down your chest and stomach. He glanced up at you with dark eyes as he started to tug your shorts and underwear down, discarding them and spreading your legs. The smell of blood invaded his senses as he glanced down, seeing the small string of your tampon. He would deal with that later though.

“If you want me to stop at any point,” he said softly, looking up at you. “Just tell me.” You nodded as he lightly raked his nails up and down your thighs. “Nothing is off limits for me,” he explained. “Blood does not bother me, I’ve told you this.” You nodded once more, laying naked under his heated gaze.

You watched as he grabbed the back of his shirt, pulling it off over his head, ruffling his hair in the process. His red eyes studied you as he tossed it aside. Wordlessly, he leaned back over, licking the tips of his fingers before taking your lips in a searing kiss as his wet fingers pressed against your clit, immediately starting to work against it.

You moaned into his mouth as he rubbed slowly, lightly flicking and pinching your clit. Your arousal had started to pool, allowing his fingers to glide much smoother and faster. Tension started to build, heat rising in your body. Wonwoo pulled back, eyes meeting yours. “I’m going to remove this,” he said, fingers gently pulling on the string of your tampon. “Okay?”

You nodded, keeping your body relaxed as he started to pull slowly, removing the plug from your body. Once it was gone, he threw it in the waste bin between your bed and the side table. His fingers were back on you in an instant, rubbing your clit in a circular motion.

Your eyes fluttered shut as your hips started to move, chasing his fingers. You felt his fingers move lower and lower until they slid inside your cunt. You let out a groan as he curled his fingers, keeping his eyes on your face as he moved slowly, pumping his fingers in and out of you, a soft and slight squelching noise making your cheeks burn.

“From now on,” Wonwoo said as he curled his fingers against your walls again. “Don’t wear tampons around me. Just wear pads.” You couldn’t respond as his fingers moved faster, coaxing your body closer and closer to an orgasm.

Just before you came, he stopped, pulling his fingers out of you. “Wonwoo!” you whined as he smirked at you. Looking up at him, you watched as he brought his blood covered fingers closer to his face. “Here,” you said, trying to grab the container of wipes but let out a gasp as he instead stuck his fingers in his mouth, cleaning them with his tongue instead. “Wonwoo!” you admonished in total shock.

Wonwoo gave you a smile before he maneuvered down your body until his face was level with your cunt. You propped yourself up on your elbows. “No fucking way,” you said but your words fell short as you felt his tongue lick against your slit, a deep groan rumbling from his chest as he tasted your blood. The tip of his tongue dipped into your entrance before sliding up to your clit and you fell back against the bed with a moan as he started to lick, tease, and suck the sensitive nub.

The lewd slurping sounds, coupled with the fact that you were freely bleeding onto his tongue had your cheeks burning from embarrassment but you couldn’t deny it was also extremely erotic in a way. Your vampire boyfriend, who was not grossed out by blood, was more than willing to finger you, eat you out, and fuck you while you were on your period.

To say you hit the jackpot was an understatement.

Wonwoo felt the same way. Being allowed to taste you during this time of the month that you normally kept private from him was intoxicating and he knew that this would become your new normal routine.

You let out a whine as your orgasm drew closer and closer, back arching off the towels as Wonwoo flattened his tongue against your clit. Your hips tried to move, chasing the feeling of his tongue against you but he held you down, instead suckling on your clit until you finally came with a moan of his name, fingers tangling in his hair.

Wonwoo continued to lap slowly at your cunt until you shuddered, tugging gently on his hair and breathlessly begging him to stop. He pulled back and you stared in both shock and awe as his blood covered lips as he licked them slowly, maintaining eye contact with you.

You moaned as you watched him lick as much of the blood from his face as he could until he grabbed the container of wipes, pulling one out and wiping the areas of his face he couldn’t reach. He tossed the used tissue away and quickly removed his underwear, pushing the fabric down until his cock sprang free. He kicked them off the rest of the way before moving between your thighs.

“You don’t have to – hng!” you let out a moan as he pushed into your hole easily, the blood and your arousal mixing together to create the best possible lubricant. Any spasming and muscle contractions your uterus had been in the process of making ceased as his cock filled your cunt in one motion.

Wonwoo didn’t even need to give you time to adjust as your walls welcomed his cock instantly. He started to rut into you immediately, hips giving you a few testing thrusts before he really set into a hard and heavy pace. “F-fuck,” you gasped, nails digging into his back as he snapped his hips against yours.

“Feel good?” Wonwoo asked in a deep voice, a hint of amusement in his tone. You nodded eagerly, eyes rolling back as he started to pound into you, the sound of his skin hitting yours filling the room with an undertone of his cock entering your wet cunt.

“I knew it would,” Wonwoo breathed as he grabbed your thigh, pushing it up so he could angle his thrusts to hit the soft gummy spot that had you crying out in pleasure. He didn’t give a damn if your neighbors complained. He loved it when you screamed for him. When he made you feel so good that you cried out in pleasure.

“We’re doing this every time you’re on your period,” he grunted with effort as he slammed into you. “Gonna fuck you every night if I have to just to keep the cramps away.” Your fingers curled into his hair as you held onto him tighter, the leg that wasn’t being held up wrapping around his waist.

“Won-oo,” you mumbled, your grip on his hair tightening. “M’gonna cum.” Wonwoo pushed your thigh against your side, ramming into you, the tip of his cock barely brushing your cervix as he helped you chase your high, your own hips bucking up to meet his thrusts. “Fuck,” he growled. “Cum for me, baby. Show me out wet you can really get.”

You came immediately, crying out in pure bliss as your walls clenched around his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm before chasing his own. His thrusts grew more erratic, wild and sloppy as your cum and blood mixed, making sloshing sounds as he frantically fucked you. “Ah shit,” he groaned, head burying into your shoulder. “I’m gonna cum, fuck!”

You let out a cry of pain as you felt his sharp teeth sink into the skin of your shoulder as he came, sinking his entire cock into you as his load exploded, releasing a stream of thick milky cum into your bloody cunt. A mixture of the fluid spilled out of you, falling onto the towels under you as Wonwoo sucked from the fresh wound in your shoulder.

He pulled back, murmuring an apology as he licked over the holes created by his teeth. “That’ll heal,” he added as he moved to the other side of your neck, burying his face in your neck. You wrapped your arms around him as he gave you a small couple thrusts, fucking his cum deeper into you. “I’ll help you clean,” he added before you could complain about the mess. “Just let me stay like this for a bit.

Clean up was a lot easier than you expected. Wonwoo carried you to the shower, hopping in with you for a bit and helping you wash off, making sure to wash away any cum that spilled out of you. He then got out, drying off and dressing at lightning speed while you finished. He threw the soiled towels and sheets in the wash, placing new ones down before you got out of the shower.

As he requested, you didn’t put another tampon in, instead lining your panties with the pads he picked up for you as you dressed. You pulled on a sweatshirt and shorts, leaving your bra off. Something comfortable and easy for him to remove.

“You know,” he said as you settled on the bed next to him, wrapped up in the blankets and watching the TV at low volume.

“Just in case the cramps come back.”

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msbigredmachine · 5 months ago

Text

The Boy Next Door: Chapter Five

MASTERLIST ✨ harmshake’s masterlist ✨ msbigredmachine’s masterlist

Word Count: 8.9k

TRIGGER WARNINGS: 18+, NSFW, language, angst, violence, smut

Poster made by me. Credit to the owners of the other pics and gifs.

A/N: So, as you all know, harmshake is on an extended hiatus from tumblr. This means I'll be handling the story henceforth. We were both able to draft and flesh out the chapters and storyline together, giving me an easier job of putting the finishing touches on each one and uploading them. I hope you've all enjoyed it, we both had a blast doing this together and hope you continue to support us and TBND!

Enjoy chapter 5! 😬

The glow of Ivy’s bedside lamp bathed golden light on her chocolate skin as she reclined against the pillows of her window seat, glass of port wine in hand, pepperoni pizza on a paper plate, her full lips curved into a teasing smile.

Across the street, in her direct line of sight, Roman lounged in a leather seat by his open window, a small plate of buffalo wings within arm’s reach on the sill. The soft yellow light from his room reflected off his sharp features, highlighting the intensity in his gaze that made her pulse quicken as they watched each other from a pleasantly short distance.

“Dude, you’re lucky I like you,” she said, biting into her pizza. “I don’t usually share my date nights with someone who isn’t even in the same room with me.”

Roman’s deep laugh rumbled through the phone. “Oh, baby girl, you don’t just like me—you adore me. Own that shit.”

She rolled her eyes, her grin widening. “You’re awfully sure of yourself.”

“And you love that about me,” he countered smoothly, swirling his whiskey.

She paused at his words, her heart skipping a beat. Love? It wasn’t the first time Roman’s confidence caught her off guard, but this? This was different. She tucked a stray curl behind her ear, the weight of the word lingering in the air between them.

“How’s Zaia doing?” he asked, as if sensing her thoughts, smartly steering the conversation away, but not before leaving Ivy with the faintest flutter of something unspoken.

“She’s doing better—just a cold, nothing too serious. She’s in her room sleeping, but she was miserable all day, poor thing. We’ve been stuck at home together today, but I don’t mind. She’s my baby. That’s what mamas do,” she said.

Roman’s voice softened, full of admiration. “I know you do your best with her. I see it every day. You’re an incredible mom, Ivy.”

She felt a flutter in her chest, his words hitting her deeper than she expected. There was something about the way he just…cared, even from afar. She took a sip of wine, savoring the smooth taste. “That's so sweet. Thank you, baby,” she answered with a warm mix of emotion and affection. “You seem to be making this whole long-distance date night thing work.”

Roman’s gaze never wavered from hers as he leaned back in his seat, his posture casual yet commanding. “I make it work because it means I get to see you. I’d do anything to make you happy.”

She felt the sincerity in his words, the weight of the connection between them growing stronger by the second. “And I’m lucky to have you around. I like being around you,” she said softly, her eyes locked on his.

A small, teasing smile played at the corner of Roman’s lips. “And I like you in my t-shirts. A lot,” he added, “You look better in them than I ever could.”

Her fingers instinctively brushed the oversized t-shirt she’d claimed during one of their late-night trysts. She leaned closer to the open window, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Glad you feel that way, cuz it’s mine now. You ain’t never gettin’ it back.”

His gaze darkened, and even through the phone, she could hear the change in his tone, low and suggestive. “You can keep it…as long as you tell me what you're wearin' under it.”

Her stomach tightened at the suggestive question, heat pooling low in her belly. She took a slow sip of her wine, her voice laced with playful mischief.

“Nothing," she responded airily.

The silence that followed was charged, Roman’s sharp intake of breath echoing through the line. Eyes darkened, he leaned forwards, as though trying to close the distance between them. “Prove it,” he rasped, that baritone of his smooth, dangerous, and inviting all at once.

Ivy took a slow breath, the challenge of his words igniting something bold in her. With a sly smile, her fingers slid beneath the hem of the t-shirt, pulling it off completely. Her smooth, naked skin shone even brighter beneath the lights.

Roman’s sharp exhale sent a thrill through her. “God, you’re exquisite,” he murmured, his voice thick with reverence and hunger. “So fucking beautiful, baby girl.”

His words made her heart race. She knew he was more than just attracted to her—he was captivated. And she was just as entranced by him.

“I wanna see more. Touch yourself for me, Ivy,” he commanded.

Her breath hitched, her pulse racing as he unraveled her carefully maintained composure. “Only if you do the same,” she challenged, her voice trembling with anticipation.

The faint rustle of fabric on his end sent a shiver down her spine. “I already am,” he confessed, his words molten heat.

Sure enough, his dick was out of his shorts, legs spread far apart, his fist moving up and down the hardened length as he reclined in his chair. "Like what you see, baby?" he asked, his body heating up when she licked her lips.

"Oh yeah. That's it, big boy. Stroke it for me," she encouraged him, her voice rough with need. “Fuck…I want that big beautiful dick in my mouth, baby," she murmured.

“Just your mouth?” Roman challenged, “Your turn. Show Daddy how wet you are."

Putting her phone on speaker and setting it in front of her, she spread her legs, giving him a full view of her goodies. She pushed her two middle fingers between her folds, gasping from the shock of the intrusion. "Unnnh, fuck," she thrust the fingers in and out of her, imagining it was Roman’s long, thick dick testing the stretch of her walls, and pulled them out, moaning as they came away glistening with her arousal.

“Jesus, Ivy, you’re drippin’…Put that shit in your mouth, baby.”

Completely turned on, she did as he ordered, hearing his groan over the phone as she slowly sucked her taste off her fingers before slipping them back inside her pussy, working them faster. Through the cloudy haze of pleasure, she caught the sweet sight of Roman’s large hand twisting faster around his large length, his lips parted, panting, the depths of his desire flooding her ears and flooding her pussy even more.

"Shit, that's beautiful, baby girl. Keep fucking your pussy like that..." He watched her head tilt back, groaning along with her as he stroked himself with the same speed as her pumping fingers. The intimacy of the moment swallowed them whole, the distance between their windows evaporating as their breaths quickened in unison.

Ivy let herself go, surrendering to the way he made her feel—desirable, fearless, alive. For once, she didn’t question the intensity of their connection or the way he effortlessly stripped her bare, emotionally and physically. She only knew she wanted more of this man, Roman Reigns. Probably forever.

Consequences be damned.

Gemini sat at her desk, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. She had never expected to be the one to deliver this news to Ivy. When Kofi—Angelo’s cousin—contacted her, she hesitated. She and Ivy hadn’t spoken in weeks and the idea of revisiting the painful subject of her friend’s baby daddy made her stomach churn. Yet here she was, sitting behind the polished wooden desk in her office, holding a letter from Kofi and a copy of the will that had been left behind after Angelo’s sudden death.

The door creaked open, and Ivy entered, her face drawn with exhaustion, still in her scrubs from her shift at the hospital. The tension in the air was thick, but Ivy’s eyes softened when they met Gemini’s, though she masked it quickly with a sharp, questioning look.

“You said it was urgent,” Ivy said, her voice guarded, her arms folded tightly across her chest.

Gemini gestured to the chair across from her. “Please sit.”

Ivy hesitated but lowered herself into the chair, her eyes flicking from Gemini to the papers on the desk. She looked like she was preparing for bad news, and Gemini couldn’t blame her. The last time they’d spoken, their argument had been raw and emotional, and the distance between them had only grown since.

“Angelo’s cousin Kofi…reached out to me,” Gemini began, her voice steady despite the knots in her stomach. “He wanted me to be the one to handle his affairs. Babe, Angelo had a will—and he left a few things behind. Things for you and Zaia.”

Ivy’s eyebrows furrowed as she leaned forward, curiosity mixed with wariness. “A will? I—” She shook her head, the disbelief evident in her expression. “I didn’t know he had anything left. After everything, I didn’t think he’d care.”

Gemini exhaled, her eyes dropping to the document in front of her. “I didn’t think so either. But there’s more here than I expected. It’s all in the will.”

She slid the papers across the desk. “He bought a house, Ivy. A house for you and Zaia. It’s fully paid for. There’s also a trust fund set up for Zaia—enough to cover her education, and a bit more for whatever else she’ll need. And a piece of local business—his cousin Kofi’s company, actually. It’s a stake in something stable. You’ll have a steady income from it.”

Ivy blinked, her lips parting slightly as she processed the information. “A house? He...he bought us a house?” Her voice cracked slightly as if the weight of the words was more than she could bear.

Gemini nodded, watching Ivy carefully. “He left you a ring too—something personal. Family heirloom, the documents say.”

Ivy’s eyes welled with unshed tears, but she refused to let them fall. She wasn’t going to cry in front of Gemini—not after everything. “I didn’t know…” Her voice trailed off, filled with confusion and a hint of anger. “Why didn’t he ever say anything? He never told me any of this!”

Gemini leaned back in her chair, her gaze hardening despite her sympathy. “I’m not sure why he didn’t tell you. Maybe he thought you’d be upset or maybe he just didn’t know how to say it. We both know he wasn’t the best at things like that.”

Ivy’s jaw tightened as she set the will back down on the desk, looking at Gemini with a mixture of frustration and sadness. “Yeah, that sounds like him,” she muttered, turning away to look out the window. “I never understood why he couldn’t just…Why everything had to be so damn complicated.”

Gemini swallowed, at a loss for words. A rarity. Ivy shook her head, the pain clear in her expression. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel about any of this.”

“I get it, babe. I really do. He was a pain, and I’m not going to pretend otherwise. But—” She caught herself just as she saw Ivy’s expression harden again, closing herself off.

“I don’t need you to tell me what to feel, Gem. You’ve done enough of that already,” she said, her tone more brittle than before.

Gemini sighed, leaning forward, her own frustration bubbling to the surface. “Ivy—”

“I gotta go,” said Ivy. “Thanks for informing me. I’ll figure it out.”

Before Gemini could say anything more, Ivy had already stepped out, the door clicking shut behind her. She sat in stunned silence, staring at the empty room. She had wanted to say more, to reach her somehow, but the words felt trapped in her chest. The rift between them continued to germinate, and it seemed no matter how hard she tried, Ivy was slipping further away.

Gemini leaned back in her chair, exhaling heavily in frustration, her fingers tapping rapidly on the desk. The silence in the room felt heavy with the unshakable tension between her and Ivy, the walls they had both built too high to break down easily.

Needing to clear her head, she decided to leave for her lunch break, grabbing her coat and turning off the lights. The moment she stepped outside the building, the air was cold, the late November weather biting at her skin. She wrapped her coat tighter around herself and began walking to her car, but a strange feeling tugged at her—a sense of being watched. She glanced over her shoulder quickly, but there was no one there.

The street was empty, save for a few passing cars.

Shrugging it off as paranoia, Gemini continued walking, but the feeling persisted. Every step she took felt heavier, more deliberate, as though something—or someone—was just behind her. She stopped at the intersection, glancing behind her again.

Nothing.

She shook her head and continued walking, but her unease only grew stronger, a cold shiver crawling down her spine. When she reached her Mercedes, she fumbled for her keys, quickly unlocking the door and sliding inside. The sense of being followed still gripped her chest, but when she checked the rearview mirror, there was no one there.

She exhaled sharply, gripping the wheel as she stared out the windshield. “I’m losing my shit. Just great,” she muttered to herself, starting the engine.

But as she drove off into the night, the nagging feeling that she wasn’t alone never quite left her.

Roman leaned back in his leather armrest, the soft expensive material creaking under his weight, his eyes fixated on the darkened windows of Ivy’s house. The house he had once watched from the shadows, studying her every move. A fond, fruitful memory.

He remembered the first night he’d arrived in the neighborhood—the house still empty, the moving truck yet to arrive. The thrill of anonymity had been intoxicating. It had all felt too easy, too perfect, like a symphony waiting to be orchestrated. His house, still almost empty that first week, had been the perfect backdrop to his plans.

He first sighted her in her backyard with little Zaia, the girl running around with their dog, Duchess, all carefree in the evening sun. There was something about the way she doted on her daughter, something warm, almost maternal, that captivated him. And he knew from the start, from the very first moment he saw her, that he would make her his.

But it wasn’t just the motherly affection that drew him in. No, it was the way she carried herself, the subtle grace she exuded. She was beautiful. Perfect face and banging body, with curves her wrap dress woefully failed to hide. He could tell there was a strength beneath her calm exterior, a depth that no one could see unless they truly watched. And he had watched her. Night after night.

At first, it had been about learning her routine—how she left for work, when she came home, the time she spent with Zaia, and the occasional moments when she was home with Angelo. Those nights, when he’d stalk the house like a predator in the shadows, the soft flicker of her bedroom light barely visible. The arguments. The passionate reconciliations. The first time he watched them fuck, a jealousy unlike anything he’d ever felt had ripped through him. Animalistic, raw. It had enraged him, the way Angelo’s touch seemed to have ownership over Ivy, the way she would give herself to him.

Roman gripped the glass harder, his dick rising at the more pleasant memory of watching Ivy, all alone this time, sprawled across her bed as she pleased herself, her body writhing on her soft sheets. It was the night after they first met, and he’d wondered if it was him she was masturbating to. He’d imagined claiming her fully, not just with his eyes, but with his hands, his mouth, his dick, buried in her wet. That jealousy, that hunger for her, had grown, and when Angelo put hands on him, he took action. He was an easy target, as were the brake lines of that jalopy he drove…Roman had made sure there was no coming back from that. That punk bitch was gone, and Roman seized the moment and stepped in, comforting Ivy as she grieved, his presence a soothing balm to her wounds.

Now, she was all his. The fire they shared, the passion—it was everything. Roman had never known anything like it. Each time he lay beside her, the warmth of her body pressed against his…each time he was inside her…he felt…whole. He had won. He had her, and together, they would be the perfect family, the one he’d always dreamed of. Him, Ivy, and Zaia.

But there was yet another fucking thing that threatened to ruin it all: Gemini.

His blood boiled at the thought of her. Poking around, asking questions, getting too close to the truth. Her scathing words had echoed relentlessly in his head since the night of her party, each syllable sharper and more grating than the last:

“I see right through you. You’re not who you pretend you are. I can feel it. You’ve got Ivy and everybody else fooled, but I’m not buying it.”

The nerve of that bitch.

Roman’s jaw clenched as he replayed her smug expression, the way she had stood close, practically taunting him. She hadn’t flinched, hadn’t look away, like she knew she was poking a bear and relished the risk. Gemini wasn’t like the others—she was too observant, too bold. That made her dangerous. Too dangerous to keep around. She didn’t know who she was dealing with. Roman had dealt with people like her before, but this one was persistent. Too persistent.

His mind flashed to the moments when he’d seen her lingering near Ivy, always so observant. So fucking nosy. Well, no more.

She had to go.

Roman leaned forward in his chair, his eyes narrowing. His plan was already in motion. It would be simple, like all the others. He would make her disappear too, and no one would find her.

He glanced over at the clock, the quiet ticking of time mocking him. Soon. As soon as he dealt with Gemini, everything would be perfect.

Roman’s lips curled into a satisfied smile. He had Ivy and Zaia now, and nothing and nobody would take that from him. Ever.

He stood, his fingers tapping against the window frame as he stared out into the darkness, knowing that soon, very soon, his family would be complete.

And that meddlesome bitch?

She was just another loose end. One he would tie up.

Probably literally.

The morning light filtered through the wide windows of his pristine kitchen island, glinting off his untouched cup of espresso. His focus, however, was entirely on the MacBook before him. Leaning forward, his eyes narrowed like a predator studying its quarry, watching the grainy surveillance footage play out on the laptop screen.

Gemini moved about her bedroom, oblivious to the camera’s hidden gaze. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he traced her movements, his fingers idly tapping the screen. She thought she was the hunter, investigating him—but Roman always stayed one step ahead.

Night after night, he would watch her scour through case files, searching through news reports, and any scrap of information to uncover his identity. Her determination was unlike anything he had encountered before, and it unnerved him in a way few things ever had. He needed to act before she finally found something and took it to Ivy—or worse, someone else. Like that lame ass five-0 she was fucking, Hayes.

He had to hand it to her. Though he had perfected this dance over the years, she was different. Her confidence infuriated him, and some part of him wanted her to know, in her final moments, that she’d been right about him all along.

The smart TV on the kitchen wall murmured in the background, showing a clip of Montez, the distraught fiancé of Bianca Belair who was still missing, pleading for her safe return. Duchess was fast asleep in the conversation pit a few feet away. But it was the lazy clink of cutlery that had his attention. His gaze flicked to his girlfriend, who sat quietly across from him, her fork absently tracing circles through the barely eaten scrambled eggs on her plate. She had been distant for days, her mind clearly elsewhere. Something was weighing heavily on her.

“You’ve been quiet,” Roman said softly, his voice low, filled with a tenderness that Ivy had come to trust. “What’s going on, babe?”

Ivy hesitated, her stomach knotting the way it had for the last few days, since she’d learned of Angelo’s surprising bequest. The weight of it was heavy on her chest and she had kept it to herself until now, unsure of how to even begin processing everything. Roman had been a constant presence since Angelo’s death—strong, supportive, and patient—but this was something that still made her feel vulnerable.

Roman shut his laptop and motioned her over. “Come here.”

She made her way over to him, allowing him to pull her onto his lap, his forearms winding protectively around her. His lips pressed against her shoulder. “Talk to me,” he whispered.

Ivy sighed heavily and bit the bullet. She’d been carrying this burden alone long enough. “Angelo…he wrote a will,” she began, her voice faltering as she struggled to find the right words. “He…he left things. A house, a trust fund for Zaia, some business stake—things I never thought he’d care enough to leave behind.”

Roman raised an eyebrow but didn’t interrupt, watching her closely. He knew that whatever Angelo had left wasn’t just about the material things. He could tell that it was something deeper—something Ivy was still trying to understand herself.

“I know what this is about,” he said quietly. “I know it’s not just about what he left. It’s about him—about everything he kept trying to do. Trying to come back into your life even when you told him no.”

Ivy let out a long, quiet breath, her gaze dropping to the counter. “He couldn’t just let it go, Ro. He couldn’t accept that we were done. That we been done for a long time.” Her voice faltered, but she quickly steadied herself. “He kept trying, always trying to force himself back in. And now…now, he’s gone, and he’s left me this…this mess.”

Roman’s gaze never left hers. “I know he wasn’t easy on you, and I know he made things complicated, even when you were doing your best to move forward.” He gently reached out, placing a hand on hers. “But I also know you loved him, at least in your own way. He was Zaia’s father. And now, with all this…stuff he left behind, I can’t imagine how hard it is for you to figure out how to feel about it.”

Ivy’s face was full of vulnerability. “He was a good father to his baby. He really was. I can’t take that away from him. But he kept trying to get back into my life. He was always coming around, always expecting me to give him another chance. And now—after he’s gone—I’m left with all this guilt. I don’t know if I’m supposed to be grateful or angry.”

Roman’s hand tightened around her waist, a reassuring squeeze. “You’re allowed to feel both, Ivy. You can be grateful for the good he did for Zaia, for the father he was, while also being pissed at the way he treated you. You don’t have to choose.”

Ivy swallowed hard, nodding as the weight of his words settled into her chest. “I just…I don’t understand why he didn’t do this sooner. If he really wanted to fix things, if he really wanted to show he cared, why didn’t he do it when I needed him to?” Her voice was a whisper now, as if the thought itself was too much to bear. “Why did he make everything harder for me?”

“Maybe he didn’t know how,” Roman mused. “A lot of people—especially people like Angelo—they don’t know how to express what they really feel until it’s too late. Maybe he didn’t realize it until the end. Maybe he didn’t know how to fix what was broken between you two.”

Ivy shook her head, wiping away a stray tear that had escaped. “But that’s just it, Roman. He never listened. He never saw me. He always just assumed what I wanted, what I needed. And now—now he’s gone. And I’m stuck with all this…uncertainty. I’m stuck with a little girl who won’t understand any of it. And I can’t even process any of this because of the way he kept pulling me back in.”

She had fought so hard to let go of the past, to move on from the chaos Angelo had brought into her life. It wasn’t fair that after all that struggle, this new development was now forcing her to confront everything she had tried to forget. She was trying to build a new future for herself, for Zaia…and possibly Roman…but this…this was a lot to carry.

“Hey,” Roman said gently, squeezing her hand, “Baby, I know you’re angry, and I know you’re hurt. But you’re not alone in this. You’ve got me. You don’t gotta carry all this by yourself. We’ll figure it out together, one step at a time.”

Ivy let out a long breath, her chest rising and falling. She felt exhausted, like the weight of everything had finally caught up with her. But hearing Roman’s words, feeling the warmth of his hand on hers, she knew she wasn’t alone anymore. Maybe she couldn’t control everything—maybe she couldn’t change what Angelo had done—but she could still move forward. She had a choice. And she had Roman.

“Thank you,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly as she leaned into him. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Roman smiled softly, caressing her face. “You’ll never have to find out. I’m here, Ivy. I’m here, no matter what.”

Ivy met his gaze, the conflict in her heart still there, but the steady, grounding presence of Roman gave her something she hadn’t had in a long time: a sense of peace. She didn’t have to have all the answers. Not yet. But with him by her side, perhaps she could start to heal.

Roman’s hands gripped the steering wheel, a million thoughts plaguing his mind as he navigated his Range Rover down the suburban streets enroute to Zaia’s elementary school. The sunlight streamed through the windshield, bouncing off his dark Ray-ban Aviators and giving his already cold demeanor an eerie, impersonal sheen. Ivy sat beside him, chattering away, little Zaia in the backseat singing along to the music, some song from Gracie’s Corner, blaring from her iPad. Roman had tuned them both out completely, their cheerful voices nothing but background noise to the storm that had been raging in his mind since Ivy dropped that bombshell on him.

Damn you, Angelo!

He was seething. That fucking bastard’s will felt like a final act of sabotage, the ghost of the past reaching out from beyond the grave to pull Ivy back into a world of chaos he’d worked so hard to shield her from.

But he wasn’t just angry at Angelo. No.

He was furious with Gemini for delivering the news. For helping tear open old wounds Ivy had spent years trying to heal from, all in the name of business. A burning rage surged through him. Like Angelo, Gemini had become another anchor Ivy couldn’t free herself from. Another reason for Roman to despise that bitch.

A sudden burst of repetitive, high-pitched music jolted him from his thoughts. Zaia had restarted the same insipid song she’d been playing since they got in the car, the tinny melody grating against his nerves like nails on a chalkboard. Roman’s fingers tightened on the wheel, a muscle twitching in his jaw. The sound seemed to fill every inch of the vehicle, piercing through the thin layer of control he’d been holding onto.

Zaia continued to sing her little heart out as the cheerful tune played on. It was relentless, drilling into Roman’s skull. He exhaled sharply, forcing himself to keep his composure. He glanced in the rearview mirror, catching her innocent, happy expression, one he usually appreciated but now he just couldn’t stand the sight of.

“Little lady,” he began, his voice carefully even, though the tension brewing in him laced every syllable, “you don’t got any other songs?”

Zaia beamed at him. “But it’s my favorite! Don’t you like it?”

He hated it. The tune quickly became a nightmarish loop, and for the first time in hours, his thoughts of Gemini faded—not from guilt or doubt, but from sheer, unrelenting irritation. The song pounded on, and Roman’s fingers tightened on the wheel, his knuckles stretching unnaturally against the black leather.

On the third replay, he snapped.

“Man, turn that shit off!” His voice was a whip, sudden, loud, and vicious.

The car fell into a stunned silence. Zaia’s lip quivered, her breathing pattern changing, quickening, before she burst into tears.

“Roman!” Ivy exclaimed.

“What I do? I just told her to change the song!”

“I want my daddy!” Zaia wailed.

“That’s too damn bad,” Roman shot back coldly, his deep voice dripping venom as he twisted his head to glare at her. “You ain’t never gon’ see that piece of shit no more cuz he’s dead!”

Ivy’s heart stopped. She turned in her seat, gaping at him in complete shock. “Roman! What the hell is your problem?”

Chastened, he opened his mouth to respond, but she cut him off, absolutely livid. “Stop the car. Now.”

“Ivy, I—”

“Stop the damn car!”

Roman exhaled heavily, muttering under his breath as he pulled the SUV to the side of the road. Ivy didn’t wait for the car to come to a full stop before she threw the door open. Her legs were shaky, but her fury propelled her forward. She yanked open the back door, gathered Zaia and her backpack, and marched down the street toward the school building. At the entrance, she set Zaia back down on her feet, but the little girl refused to let go of her, clinging to her neck like a lifeline.

The sight of her daughter’s distress pierced something deep within her soul. Kneeling down, she held her tightly, letting her hold on to her for as long as she needed, even as the school’s morning bell rang around the building, signaling the start of the day.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” Ivy murmured softly, her voice laced with guilt. She rubbed Zaia’s back in slow, soothing circles. “Please don’t cry, my snuggle bug.”

Zaia hiccupped through her sobs, her voice trembling and barely audible. “I don’t want Roman to be mad at me, Mama.”

The innocent remark hit Ivy like a punch to the chest, momentarily stealing her breath. It dawned on her that her little girl had grown attached to the big man. She struggled to find the right words to reassure her. “He’s not mad, sweetheart. He’s just…had a tough morning.”

Zaia’s sniffles grew louder, her fresh tears spilling over. She clung to Ivy tightly, her small fingers gripping almost desperately at her mother’s scrubs.

“I miss my daddy,” the little girl whimpered, her words a fragile echo of her broken heart.

“I know, sweetie. I know,” Ivy replied, her voice wavering as she fought back her own tears. She gently cupped Zaia’s face and wiped away the wet streaks with her thumbs. “It’s okay to miss him. But guess what? He’s watching over you in Heaven. He'll always be in your heart, okay?”

But even as she tried to console her daughter, Ivy’s mind raced. Zaia’s distress gnawed at her. How could she send her baby into school like this? Would it even be fair to ask her to focus, to pretend everything was fine when it so clearly wasn’t? The uncertainty weighed heavily on Ivy’s shoulders, even as she pulled Zaia into another hug, pressing a soft kiss to her curls.

“Little lady?”

At the sound of his voice, Ivy glared up at Roman’s approaching figure, his face a mix of remorse and something she couldn’t quite name. She tensed, shielding her baby girl with her body. “What do you want?”

“I just…I want to apologize,” he said, his expression soft and remorseful. “Ivy, please. I was wrong. Let me make up for it.”

Ivy studied him warily before giving a reluctant nod. “Fine. But you’d better mean it.”

She didn’t take her eyes off Roman as he crouched down to Zaia’s level, his chiseled face drawn with regret. “Hey, little lady,” he said gently, his voice soft, almost tender. “I am so sorry for yelling at you. I didn’t mean to, but I was wrong to do that. Can you forgive me? I’ll never do it again, I promise.”

Rubbing her nose, Zaia looked to Ivy for approval, and Ivy, despite her better judgment, gave the go ahead with a short nod.

“Okay. I forgive you,” Zaia answered, her smile small and watery.

Roman smiled back, his features awash with relief as he hugged her tight. “Thank you, Zaia.” He tapped her little nose playfully. “Tell you what, how about we get some ice cream after school? Just you, me, and Mommy. Wherever you want, and whatever flavors you want. That sound good?”

It was a winning bargain, as Zaia instantly brightened and she nodded eagerly, throwing her arms around his neck in another big, warm hug. Waving goodbye to the two adults, she spun around and zoomed off through the doors of the school. Roman smiled at her retreating figure, but when he turned back to her mom, the look in his eyes was more pleading than apologetic.

Ignoring him, Ivy kept her distance all the way back to the car. The moment the doors were shut, she exploded.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Roman? She’s a child!” she yelled.

Roman’s jaw ticked. He rubbed his face and exhaled a shaky breath. “You…you wouldn’t understand.”

“What’s there to understand? You fucking yelled at my daughter! You think I’m gonna let that slide?” she snapped, her anger barely contained. “Gemini warned me about this. To think I keep defending your ass, only for her to be right. This is how you really are!”

“No it’s not, I swear!”

“Then tell me what’s wrong! You've been acting up all week! Something is up with you and I wanna know what it is! And don’t lie to me!”

He hesitated, then dropped his gaze. “Okay then. Here’s the truth.” He swallowed hard. “Today…marks a year since…since Elesha died.”

Ivy blinked, her fury momentarily giving way to surprise. She hadn’t expected that. Her scowl softened, though her wariness persisted. “I’m sorry, Roman. I can’t imagine how hard that must be. But that don’t mean you get to take it out on Zaia or be an asshole to me. If being with me, being with us, is triggering you, just say so. If it’s too much—”

“It’s not too much,” he said quickly, his voice breaking. “Ivy, I swear to you, it’s not. Don’t ever blame yourself for my fuckup. I’m just…I’ve been trying, really trying, to process it all.” He looked at her, his eyes glassy with unshed tears. “Everything’s happened so fast. Losing her, moving here and meeting you…My feelings for you are so strong, and it scares the shit outta me cuz I don’t wanna lose you too.”

His vulnerability struck her like a tidal wave, raw and unguarded in a way that left her breathless. Roman looked shattered, the weight of his emotions carved into every line of his beautiful face. She hesitated, her own walls trembling, before gently resting her hand against his cheek. Her voice, barely more than a whisper, trembled with conviction.

“Babe, you’re not gonna lose me. I only just found you,” she said. “I told you before. I’m here for you Roman, just like you are for me. I just need you to stop bottling things up and talk to me.”

A fragile, watery smile curved his lips, but it couldn’t mask the storm raging in his eyes. He leaned into her touch, his forehead resting against hers as though she was the only anchor he had left. For one brief, stolen moment, the chaos around them stilled.

“I don’t deserve you,” he rasped, his voice thick with anguish. “I don’t know how to be without you. You’ve made my life worth something again—you and Zaia. I’m so sorry I snapped at her…Please, Ivy. I know I messed up…Don’t leave me. I need you.”

Her chest constricted, the ache in his voice cutting through her like glass. The desperation in his gaze was a dagger, and despite every reason to walk away, she couldn’t. Because whatever doubts had begun to creep into the edges of her mind paled in comparison to what she was starting to feel for him. She was painfully aware of how hard, how undeniably she had fallen for him too, and it was in equal parts terrifying and exhilarating.

Her fingers traced his jaw, her own tears threatening to spill. “I accept your apology,” she whispered, moved enough by the emotions pulsing between them to seal her words with a gentle kiss that tasted of unspoken vows and quiet redemption. “And I’m not going anywhere,” she murmured, kissing his forehead as well, her voice steady even as her heart thundered, even as the doubt lingered. “I promise.”

“You sure you don’t want me to come over? I can leave this function that I’m at. We can just kick it for a lil’ bit.”

Gemini smiled into the phone, twirling a lock of her hair around her finger. “Thanks, Melo, but I’ll be fine, I promise.”

“So you don’t wanna see me? Damn, ma,” Carmelo sighed, the smooth baritone of his voice sending a delicious shiver down her spine. She knew he meant well, but the last thing she wanted was for him to worry about her more than he already did.

“Of course I wanna see you. I always do,” she insisted, her voice gentle and assured. “I just don’t want you feeling like you have to drop everything for me.”

“I know I don’t have to,” he replied, his tone laced with a quiet insistence. “But I want to. That’s different.”

She bit her lip, her gaze drifting to the window. The evening’s shadows stretched across her home, her reflection faint against the glass. His words warmed her, tugging at something she didn’t want to admit she’d missed—feeling cared for, wanted...a lover’s touch.

“I appreciate it,” she said softly, letting her guard down just a little. “But I promise, tonight is just about me catching up on work. Nothing to stress over.”

Carmelo was silent for a moment, and she could almost picture the wheels turning in his head. “A’ight,” he said finally, though the hesitation in his voice lingered. “But if anything changes—if you need me, or if you just feel like some company—holla at me and I’ll be right over. No questions asked.”

Gemini couldn’t help but smile again. He always knew how to walk that fine line between protective and overbearing, never crossing it, even when she pushed him away. “I’ll hold you to that,” she teased lightly. “But seriously, don’t let me mess up your evening. Have fun.”

“You know my nights ain’t the same without you, right?” His voice was teasing, but she could hear the undercurrent of truth in it. Her stomach fluttered, making her shy in a way only he could.

“You’re smooth as fuck, you know that?” she giggled.

“Nah, I’m just honest. That’s why you like me so much. But I’ll let you get back to it—for now.” There was a smile in his voice now, and it made her chest ache in the best way.

“Goodnight, Officer Hayes,” she whispered.

“Goodnight, Miss Beaufort, Esquire. Don’t work too hard now, okay?”

She nodded, even though he couldn’t see it. “I’ll try.” And as the call ended, she found herself staring at her phone, wondering just how much longer she could keep her guard up around someone who made her feel so safe, so…loved.

Sighing heavily, she refocused on the legal briefs and deposition notes scattered across her table. The phone call was a distraction, a brief escape from the mind-numbing class action case she was working on, but boredom gave way to curiosity as a notification popped up in her email, the logo of the dark website she frequented glowing on her laptop screen.

Her gaze was locked on the unopened documents. Tagged Psycho Hottie: The Coral Lake Butcher, the post drew her in with its absurd title. She clicked out of boredom, expecting yet another bizarre story or twisted fantasy from the forum’s strange array of users. Instead, she was staring into the face of someone she knew.

Roman.

There was no mistaking the sharp cheekbones, the slanted eyes, the smirk that always hovered at the edge of his lips. It was him—or at least it looked exactly like him.

Her stomach knotted as she clicked on the article accompanying the sketch. Published two months ago, the headline was simple but chilling:

Her eyes flicked down to the grainy mugshot embedded in the article, and her breath caught in her throat. It was Roman, no question about it. Shorter hair, but the same dark intensity in his eyes, the same chiseled, angular face. But the name was different. Roman Reigns was what Ivy called him. Mateo Hobbs was what the Floridian police called him.

The text beneath the mugshot only worsened her unease.

It has been nearly a year since Mateo Hobbs escaped police custody following his arrest for the brutal murders of his wife, Elesha Hobbs, and her alleged boyfriend, Tama Tonga. At the time of her death, Elesha was four months pregnant.

Witnesses reported seeing Hobbs flee from the Pensacola police precinct three days after his arraignment. He was awaiting formal charges when he disappeared.

Since his escape, Hobbs has been linked to a string of homicides along the Florida coast, with most victims being female sex workers in their twenties and early thirties.

Her blood cold, Gemini scrolled down, and her heart nearly stopped when she saw the photograph of his wife.

Fuck.

She looked just like Ivy.

The resemblance was uncanny—same smooth, deep brown skin, same pretty almond-shaped eyes, same slim thick figure. Roman had a type, it seemed, and Ivy fit it perfectly.

The article went on to describe his other possible victims. Young, beautiful women in their twenties or thirties. Throats slit. The pattern was clear, and Gemini’s mind immediately flashed to Rhea and Bianca.

Rhea, a pregnant woman. Her throat, brutally cut, several weeks ago. Another woman, Bianca, had disappeared shortly after. Probably dead, too. Both of them, as the Hartford Police discovered, were sex workers outside their day jobs, with Rhea an OnlyFans model and Bianca an escort. One woman from Middlesex and another from Fairfax, two towns en route to Hartford, died the exact same way Rhea did a couple of months ago. This felt like the markings of a serial killer, and Gemini had little doubt that Roman—no, Mateo—was responsible.

And then there was Angelo.

Gemini’s hand flew to her mouth as it hit her like a ton of bricks. Angelo had died in a car crash not long after Roman came into the picture. Everyone had assumed it was a tragic accident, but now Gemini could see the truth, almost clear as day. Roman had probably followed Angelo to that bar. Tampered with the brakes that had mysteriously failed.

Roman killed him.

She felt a wave of nausea but pushed it down, forcing herself to focus.

The article ended with a warning:

“Hobbs is considered armed and extremely dangerous. If sighted, do not approach. Contact law enforcement immediately on these numbers...”

But Gemini didn’t have time for law enforcement. Ivy didn’t have time for law enforcement.

Her hands moved on autopilot as she clicked “Print,” the printer spitting out page after page of damning evidence. She grabbed the stack and stuffed it into her bag, her thoughts racing.

“You’re always looking for problems where there aren’t any! Roman’s been nothing but good to me. Just because you don’t trust anyone doesn’t mean I should be the same!”

She and Ivy had barely spoken in weeks, but Gemini didn’t care. Her best friend’s life was on the line. She shoved her phone into her bag and bolted for the door. She had to get to Ivy. Immediately.

Her mind was a chaotic mix of fear and determination. Would Ivy even listen? Or would she laugh off Gemini’s warning again?

It didn’t matter.

She wasn’t going to let Ivy end up like Roman’s wife, like Rhea, like Bianca, all those other women. And she wasn’t going to let Zaia grow up without a mother. Not when she no longer had a father, probably thanks to him.

She’d been suspicious about that monster ever since he stepped foot in Ivy’s house that night, sensing something off about his charm, his intensity, the way he inserted himself so seamlessly into Ivy’s life. And now she knew why.

She had to stop him.

The night air was cold as she stepped out of her house and rushed to her Mercedes. The air outside was eerily quiet. Too quiet. It was then she realized how empty her street was. No, it was more than empty - it was deserted. Worse, she felt like she was being watched even though nobody else seemed to be around. The stillness was oppressive. Not just silence, but wrong silence—the kind that seemed to buzz in her ears like a phantom noise, amplifying every beat of her heart.

And yet…something deep in her gut told her yet again that she wasn’t completely alone.

Gemini glanced down the street again, her unease mounting with every passing second. The dim, flickering streetlights cast jagged shadows that seemed to stretch and reach for her. Uncharacteristically spooked, she started to open her car door.

She froze, her mouth slowly falling open in horror.

Roman stood across the street, mere meters from her home, a black hoodie over his head. He wasn’t moving, but the intensity of his stare felt like a physical force, pinning her to the spot. Gemini’s breath hitched, her body going completely numb with terror. She tried to scream, but no sound came. Her throat was void, and terror was the only thing filling it.

Fuck, the word tumbled through her mind, frantic and desperate, Fuck, fuck, fuck!

She squeezed her eyes shut, praying to God that she would open her eyes and it would be nothing more than a hallucination. Maybe it was a trick of the dim light. Maybe she’d open her eyes and find the street as empty as it had been moments ago.

But when she dared to look again, Roman was moving. Striding towards her with deliberate, predatory determination.

At this, Gemini’s paralysis finally snapped. Her brain finally gave her legs permission to move, and she spun on her heel and bolted, her feet pounding against the pavement as she raced for her front door. Her bag bounced wildly against her side, her breath bursting in shallow, ragged gasps.

The edge of the pathway betrayed her. Her toe caught in the stone step, and she tumbled forward, crashing hard to the ground. A sharp burst of pain flared through her knee and palms as they scraped painfully against the concrete, but adrenaline surged through her veins, propelling her back to her feet.

Her house loomed ahead, so close, but yet so far. She fumbled with her bag, her injured fingers trembling as she rifled through it for her keys.

But Roman was fast. Quarterback fast. In an instant, he was behind her, his body slamming into hers and pinning her against the door with his entire two hundred plus pound frame. Her cheek pressed against the cold wood, causing a strangled cry to escape her lips.

“Where ya goin’, huh?” His voice was deep, terrifying, and far too close to her ear. His breath was hot against her skin. “You think you can run from me, bitch?”

Terror clawed at her throat, but through the fog of panic, she remembered - the can of Mace buried in her bag that Melo gave to her. Forcing herself to concentrate, Gemini discreetly dug her hand into her bag, feeling for the small, cylindrical lifeline.

Roman grabbed her by the hair and yanked her head back, forcing her to meet his wild, hate-filled glare. Pain shot through her scalp and tears sprang to her eyes, but she didn’t let go of the Mace.

With a burst of defiance and a quick twist of her arm, she whipped the can up and aimed. A sharp hiss filled the air as the spray found his mark.

“Arrrrgh!” Roman cried out in pain, clutching his face as he stumbled back. His curses rang in Gemini’s ears, but she didn’t waste a second. The keys were in her hand now, and she jammed them into the lock with shaking fingers. The door gave way at last, but just as she made to slam it shut behind her, Roman charged, tackling her to the ground in a vicious spear that almost broke her body in two. The impact knocked the wind out of her lungs, the back of her head hitting the hard floor, and she was sure she was concussed. Roman pounced, straddling her waist, pressing one hand against her throat as he held her down. His face, usually handsome and composed, was like something out of a horror film, his eyes wild and filled with hatred and madness.

There he is…I knew it…

Grabbing Gemini by the hair, Roman stumbled to his feet and dragged her past the foyer, her desperate cries swallowed by the echoing silence of the house. Her nails clawed at his sleeved arms, her legs kicking wildly, the polished floor chafing uncomfortably against her skin. Her struggles were futile—Roman was too strong, his grip vice-like and unyielding. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the blinking red lights that should have been on the overhead cameras were gone. Disabled. By him, surely. He’d been in her house before, probably scouted her out in preparation for this day. Her heart sank as it dawned on her that no one would witness her futile fight for her life.

As they reached the kitchen, Roman lifted her bodily off her feet, throwing her against the counter. Gemini hit the table spine-first, sending her crashing painfully to the ground.

“You just can’t leave shit alone, can you?” Roman snarled, his breath coming out in short bursts, his rage barely contained, “Always sticking your fucking nose where it don’t belong!”

Gemini gasped through her tears, scrambling to get away, but Roman easily caught up to her retreating form.

“I’m so fuckin’ sick of your shit,” he snarled, his voice venomous and trembling with fury as he stomped on her right leg with brute force.

The crack of her bone echoed sickeningly all around the kitchen. Gemini screamed, the sound animalistic and blood-curdling, but it barely registered in the lifeless air. Pain surged through her body like wildfire, reducing her fight to pitiful spasms.

Roman’s handsome face twisted in a grotesque mask of a set and satisfaction. Slipping on a pair of black gloves, he crouched down beside her, tilting his head as though appraising a broken toy.

“Not so mouthy now, huh, bitch,” he taunted.

“P-Please…please don’t do this, Roman,” Gemini sobbed, clutching at her shattered leg.

“Learn to shut the fuck up for once in your goddamn life,” he growled, his voice low and terrifying as he pulled out a knife from his pocket.

The blade flashed in the dim light, and before Gemini could process the motion, the cold steel sliced across her throat. Her scream died a gruesome death, a wet, choking gasp accompanying the blood pouring from the gaping wound. She tried to speak, to beg for what was left of her life, but all that came out was a pathetic, gargled noise.

Roman was on a roll, his chest heaving as he paced in circles around her twitching body.

“Stay the fuck outta my business, you nosy bitch! Ivy is mine!” he roared, pointing at himself. “She belongs to me! Ain’t nobody gon’ take her from me, not even you, you understand me, you-”

Lifting his right leg off the ground, he slammed it back down, a brutal stomp of his foot to her face following each word.

“Worthless!” Stomp.

“Fucking!” Stomp.

“Bitch!”

The awful sound of bone crunching filled the room. When he moved his foot, he saw that Gemini had gone stock-still. Her face was unrecognizable, her blood spreading in dark rivulets across the vinyl plank flooring.

Roman stood over her, his fists clenched and trembling as the red fog of rage cleared from his brain. The silence in the kitchen was deathly, deafening, broken only by his labored breathing. He looked down at the mangled, lifeless corpse, his nose wrinkling in disgust at the mess of bone, flesh and blood pooled around his feet, staining his black Air Forces.

“Goddamn it,” he sucked his teeth, wiping a hand in frustration across his sweaty forehead.

It wasn't supposed to go like this. Gemini was supposed to stay out of it, to leave him and Ivy alone. But her dumbass couldn’t. And now, he had another body to clean up.

But it was worth it, because no one would interfere with their love anymore.

Ivy was all his now. Forever. Just like she promised him.

And he planned on holding her to that promise.

😬😬😬

Thanks for reading! Your replies and reblogs are so much appreciated! Also keep your Asks coming, we’re loving all the theories!

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@sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @n-o-v-a-caine @sexyblacksimper @paigereeder @callmekayd @partypoison00 @originalgeezyy @muzaqueendom @naturally-nikkilynn

#roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns fanfic #the boy next door #tbnd #harmshake #roman reigns au #roman reigns x black oc #otc #the bloodline

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eclipsturns · 2 months ago

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𔓕⠀﹫ christophersturniolo needs comfort ﹙just like you﹚﹗

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ࿙࿚֒ ࿙࿚ ࡛ ֹ warning ! ۟

alright, i want to start this by making it clear that what you’re about to read is definitely an angst-style story, so, just a heads-up, the content might stir up some strong emotions, especially if you relate to the themes i’m touching on.

now, with that said, i also want to clarify that this is a fictional piece! i’m not suggesting that what i’ve written reflects what chris is going through in his personal life (which, by the way, isn’t my place to speculate about or anyone else’s, except his own), but in his openness—whether it’s meant to be funny or not—in the instagram story he posted today, i finally found the push i needed to write something and break out of my writer’s block.

so, even though the circumstances aren’t the best, deep down i’m thankful for the positive impact chris has on my life and so many others, whether he realizes it or not.

chris was drowning, sinking beneath a tidal wave of despair that crushed his ribs, a relentless, jagged weight that turned every breath into a gasping plea for air.

the house pulsed with chaos: nick’s voice sliced through the walls, a shrill blade of frustration over some edit gone wrong, matt’s slams of kitchen drawers thundered like gunshots, and the tv’s looped ad screeched in chris’s skull, a mockery of normalcy he couldn’t escape.

it was a suffocating storm, and he was a ghost in its eye, his heart pounding so hard it felt like it’d rip through his chest, his stomach twisting into sick, tight knots.

he tried to claw his way out, tossing a brittle, “y’all sound like a damn war zone, man, just chill,” into the fray, but his voice shattered mid-sentence, a fragile, desperate SOS buried in the cracks.

nick’s snort stabbed at him, matt’s rummaging didn’t falter, and chris felt it—the crushing realization that they couldn’t hear the scream clawing up his throat, couldn’t see the panic bleeding from his eyes.

his hands shook violently as he snatched his hoodie, black, frayed, soaked in the scent of his own sweat and sleepless nights, yanking it over his head like armor against the void.

his sneakers scraped on, laces dangling like broken lifelines, and he muttered, “i’m out,” so low it was a whisper to himself, a plea lost in the noise. no one turned, no one questioned, and when the door slammed shut behind him, a deafening crack that echoed through his bones.

the california air hit him like a slap, warm and cloying, wrapping around his lungs like a noose.

he didn’t do this, he didn’t go out alone; nick and matt were his lifeline, his loud, chaotic tether to sanity, and without them, the world yawned open, a vast, hollow abyss that swallowed him whole.

loneliness wasn’t just fear, no, it was a visceral, icy terror that sank its teeth into his gut, twisting until he wanted to scream, but he couldn’t stay in that house, couldn’t choke down the anguish festering in his silence.

he stumbled down the street, head bowed, hands shoved deep into his pockets, fingers curling into fists to stop the trembling. his chest was a vice; each breath a shallow, ragged stab, each thought a razor slicing through his mind, drawing blood he couldn’t see but felt in every shuddering pulse.

he didn’t choose the pizza joint, it just appeared, a flickering neon “open” sign buzzing like a lifeline in the dusk, a random spot in the california sprawl he’d usually crash with his brothers, their laughter a balm he couldn’t find now.

the door swung open, bell jangling like a funeral chime, and the warm rush of dough and pepperoni hit him—once a comfort, now a hollow echo that twisted his insides into a tighter knot.

“large pepperoni, pepsi.” he ordered, voice dead and mechanical.

his ritual, his sanctuary, the things that used to stitch him back together, but when the guy shoved the box and can across the counter, they landed like lead in his unsteady hands. chris collapsed into a corner booth, the vinyl groaning under his weight, and stared at the pizza—steam curling like ghosts, cheese glistening—but it turned his stomach, a nauseous wave crashing over him, bile rising in his throat.

he cracked the pepsi, the hiss mocking him, and took a sip, but it felt flat, bitter, a cruel parody of the joy it once held.

his eyes burned, hot and stinging, his throat a raw, searing mess as he clenched his jaw until it ached, fighting the sob clawing its way up, but it was too late, his chest heaved, a silent scream trapped inside, and the tears spilled, scalding trails down his cheeks he couldn’t stop.

then, she walked in...

not a storm, not a shout, just a quiet presence slipping into the booth across from him. her hair was a tangled wreck, eyes swollen and bloodshot like she’d been sobbing her soul out, a half-eaten slice crumpled on a napkin, soda clutched in white-knuckled hands like it was her last thread.

“you look like hell,” she said, voice soft but piercing in some type of way, cutting through the fog, and chris flinched, a choked, jagged laugh bursting free, all harsh and broken, a sound that ripped at his raw throat.

“you ain’t exactly a ray of fuckin’ sunshine,” he rasped, voice trembling with the weight of unshed tears, and she offered a faint, exhausted smile; not forced, just real, a lifeline in the wreckage.

“bad day?” she asked, and it wasn’t the shrill fan squeal he braced for, instead, she was a quiet, aching echo of his own pain, slicing through his defenses like a knife.

“bad fuckin’ everything,” he choked, head dropping into his hands, fingers yanking at his hair, a desperate anchor against the flood. “can’t... fuck, i can’t get it out. i’m fallin’ apart, y’know?” the words tore free, shredded and bleeding, and his chest caved in, breaths short and gasping, panic surging like a wildfire.

she nodded, slow, her own grief carved into the slump of her frame, the quiver in her lip. “me too,” she whispered, voice fracturing. “family’s a war zone where everyone is screaming, shoving me aside, acting like i’m nothing. came here ‘cause pizza’s supposed to fix it, right?” her laugh was a broken shard, slicing the air, and chris’s matched it, echoing her despair.

“yeah, it should,” he croaked, shoving the box toward her, a shaky offering, and she took a slice, chewing in silence.

the quiet stretched, feeling dense, suffocating, a shared wound pulsing between them, their breaths hitching in sync.

“i’m y/n,” she said after a while, wiping grease on her jeans, voice barely above a whisper, and chris blinked, the simplicity of it piercing him.

“chris,” he mumbled, though she probably knew—fans always did—but she didn’t leap, didn’t fawn, just held his gaze, steady and shattered.

“i watch you,” she confessed, soft, “but i’m not here for that; you looked like you were dying and i know that look, i live it every day.” her eyes locked on his, red-rimmed and unflinching, and the dam inside him burst: words spilling, voice cracking, tears streaming like rivers of fire down his face.

“i can’t keep goin’,” he sobbed, hands clawing the table, nails scraping wood as his voice broke into shards. “nick, matt—they’re laughin’, they don’t hear me screamin’ inside. i’m so fuckin’ stressed, so empty, and i hate, really hate bein’ alone, but i can’t stay there.”

the sob tore free, loud and ugly, shaking his whole body, and he despised it: the vulnerability, the agony spilling out, the way his chest felt like it was caving in.

but she didn’t recoil, didn’t judge, just sat there, her own tears falling now.

“i get it,” she said, voice a trembling thread, steady despite the cracks. “my dad yells and i hold my breath ‘til my lungs collapse, my mom pretends i’m not even alive, and i’m just… begging to fit, but i don’t. i’m lost, chris.” a tear slipped free, carving a path down her cheek, and she swiped it away, fierce and fragile, but they were both crumbling now, their pain bleeding across this stained table, a mirror of misery.

time melted—minutes, hours, an eternity of tears and choked laughter, voices raw as sandpaper.

she spoke of her dad’s rage, her mom’s silence shredding her; chris confessed the sleepless nights, the panic clawing his chest, the suffocating mask he wore.

it was brutal, chaotic, achingly human, and for once, he wasn’t alone, maybe not with his brothers’ noise, but with her quiet, broken presence, seeing every jagged piece he’d hidden.

“they’re still there,” she rasped after a while, voice scraped hollow, nodding at the half-devoured pizza, a testament to their shared survival. “your brothers, your fans—me, even. we’re here, chris, even when it’s fuckin’ unbearable.” her gaze met his, bloodshot but piercing, and it slammed into him—a wrenching, visceral ache, not just pain but a flicker of something else, something trembling and alive.

“maybe,” he whispered, voice a ghost, wiping his face with his sleeve, the fabric damp with tears and snot.

he didn’t know if he could hold it—not truly—but her words burrowed deep, sharp and tender, slicing through the suffocating dark. he was still shattered, still terrified, a hollow shell trembling on the edge, but there was a pulse now, faint, fragile, beating beneath the ruin.

she stood, grabbing her soda, and glanced back, her silhouette framed by the dim light. “don’t fade away, chris,” she said, voice a quiet, trembling plea, then slipped out, the bell’s chime a soft wail as the door swung shut.

chris stayed, alone again, pizza cold and stiff, pepsi a flat puddle in the can, his chest a cavern of grief—but it shifted, softened by a thread he couldn’t name.

he didn’t know if he’d go back, if he’d find her again, if this changed the tide or if he’d sink deeper still. he just sat there, staring at the empty booth, tears drying into salty trails, heart thudding a broken rhythm, lost in the vast, aching unknown.

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focusonkayjay · 6 months ago

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between the ride and the roses (2)

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: biker/ motorcycle shop owner! jungkook x flower shop owner! reader, enemies to lovers, opposites attract, slow burn, angst, smut, fluff

Series summary: There's an insane turn of events when your calm and peaceful life is intruded by Jungkook, a biker boy who sets up his loud business right next to your own. Your paths cross under unlikely circumstances, starting with a clash of personalities but gradually you find yourself establishing a deeper connection with the annoyingly attractive biker jerk. You both have no idea what's in store for you guys as you try your best to put up with each other.

Word count: 3.1k

Chapter Warnings: still nothing major. let me know if i need to mention anything.

A/N: posting part 2 right away, because i absolutely cannot wait for you guys to read more ahhhh. however, i just want to apologize for any sort of grammatical errors. english is not my first language so, please bare with me. also, while i was writing this story, i realised i would love it if you imagine the town's setting and vibe as something similar to "Stars Hollow" from the show Gilmore Girls, except it's a little more modern. does that make sense lmao? anywayssss, let me know your thoughts hehehehhe.

part 2: thorns in the asphalt

Finally done with the motorcycle he’s been working on, Jungkook stands up and claps his hands together, sending a puff of dust and grease into the air. He lets out a shaky breath, wiping his hands on a damp rag, and glances around at the bustling shop outside. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s his dream finally coming to life.

The half-set-up motorcycle shop buzzes with activity, the sounds of hammers and drills blending with the faint hum of an engine someone’s tinkering with in the back.

The air carries a mix of oil, fresh paint, and the occasional whiff of pepperoni from the pizza his friends are devouring. Jungkook pushes open the side door to the main area, letting it swing shut behind him with a soft clang.

Yoongi, Jimin, and Hoseok—his partners in crime, both in business and in the gang—are gathered around a workbench repurposed as a makeshift table. Pizza boxes and soda cans litter the surface amid spare parts and tools.

“Hey, Kook, want a slice?” Hoseok asks through a mouthful of food, lifting a greasy hand to wave a slice in his direction. Jungkook shakes his head, brushing past them towards the washroom. "No, thanks." he mutters.

A few moments later, he returns, his damp hands running through his hair as he leans against the wall, his eyes darting across the shop. Despite his attempt to focus on the chaos around him, his thoughts drift to you.

He clenches his jaw, irritation flaring as he recalls your sharp tone and the unmistakable look of disdain you gave him earlier. Yoongi glances up from the catalog he’s flipping through, sensing the shift in Jungkook’s mood. "What’s with the mood?" he drawls, his voice laced with mild curiosity.

"Is it because of the florist?" Jimin asks, his eyebrows quirked as he tilts his head. The glint in his eyes reveals he already knows the answer. He’d overheard snippets of your exchange earlier in the morning when he’d briefly stepped out to help the workers.

Jungkook groans and drags a hand down his face. "Why are you even bringing her up?" he snaps, though the exasperation in his tone lacks real heat.

"Because you’re clearly bothered." Jimin teases, leaning forward with a knowing grin. "Let me guess, she gave you an earful about how we’re ruining her perfect little flower shop with all the noise and chaos?"

"Exactly!" Jungkook throws his hands up, his voice rising slightly. "She acts like I’m singlehandedly destroying her business just by existing. I tried to be polite—"

"Polite?" Hoseok interrupts, nearly choking on his soda as he fails to hide his laugh. "You? Polite? Kook, I’ve seen your polite face. It’s the same as your ‘don’t mess with me’ face, and honestly? It scares people." he adds, a sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

"Not helping.” Jungkook deadpans, shooting Hoseok a glare as he plops down into a chair near the counter. "Look, we’re moving in. Of course there’s going to be noise and commotion. Like what else does she expect? Silence and fairy dust?" he scoffs.

"Maybe she has a point.” Yoongi says, his tone calm as he flips another page of his catalog. "We’re not exactly a quiet bunch. And you did rev your bike for, what, a solid minute when you parked earlier? Was that really necessary?" he questions.

Jungkook groans again, throwing his head back. "That wasn’t for her! I was literally just testing the new pipes." he insists, his tone defensive.

"Sure you were." Jimin chimes in again, a mischievous grin stretching across his face. "And let me guess, she’s cute too, huh? That’s why you’re all worked up." he teases.

Jungkook freezes for the briefest moment before his head snaps forward, his glare locking onto Jimin. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Oh, it has everything to do with it.” Hoseok adds, leaning forward with a smirk. "Kook’s got a thing for the feisty and cute ones. Don’t deny it." he giggles with Jimin.

"You’re all insane." Jungkook mutters, grabbing a slice of pizza and taking an overly aggressive bite to distract himself from the conversation he so badly doesn't wanna have.

"Admit it…” Yoongi suddenly says, finally setting the catalog aside to pin Jungkook with an amused look. "She got under your skin and that’s rare since usually, you’re the one doing the annoying."

"She’s NOT under my skin.” Jungkook argues, though the faint pink on his cheeks betrays him. "She’s just... she's just being so damn unreasonable." He looks away, muttering under his breath. “I don’t even care."

"Uh-huh..." Jimin says, exchanging a knowing glance with Hoseok as the two continue snickering. "Whatever." Jungkook grumbles, leaning back in his chair. "Let’s just focus on getting this place running. The sooner we’re open, the sooner I can stop worrying about her."

But even as he says it, his mind drifts back to you... the way your eyes flashed with annoyance, the sharp edge in your voice as you threw his words back at him.

The late afternoon sun streams through the wide windows of your flower shop, casting a warm golden glow over the rows of vibrant blooms. You're carefully rearranging a bouquet of sunflowers, their cheerful yellow petals, a stark contrast to your lingering irritation from earlier. The noise from the shop next door had finally died down after the confrontation, leaving behind a calm, almost eerie silence.

You let out a small sigh, trying to tamp down your annoyance. "He’s moving in. Of course, there’s going to be noise." You repeat the thought to yourself, attempting to summon some patience. Still, that didn’t excuse Jungkook’s smug attitude. He had a knack for getting under your skin in record time.

The day passes peacefully after that. A few regulars stop by every now and then, gradually making you think less of the way your day had started.

The smiles of your customers as they left, made the effort worth it, reminding you why exactly you loved this job. Flowers had a way of softening even the hardest days.

As you glance at the clock perched on your counter, the hands read 7:32 PM. The faint ache in your feet confirms it's time to call it a day. You walk to the front of your store and flip the "Open" sign to "Close" on your glass door.

As you turn around to walk towards your workbench, curiosity gets the better of you, forcing you to make your way towards the window. You peek out, trying to see something.

The sidewalk, once cluttered with tools and crates, was now clear. The noise had disappeared entirely, and the only sign of life was the light spilling out onto the pavement. You couldn’t see anyone moving about inside. Shrugging, you step away from the glass, shaking off the lingering thoughts of your new neighbor.

Back at your workbench, you start by tidying up the scattered stems and trimmed leaves. Your fingers had just reached for a bundle of sunflower stalks when the soft chime of the bell above the door startled you. "We’re closed for the—" you begin, turning around, but your words melt into a smile as your gaze lands on Taehyung.

He strolls in, exuding his usual effortless charm. He's dressed in a cozy brown sweater and a pair of white trousers while smudges of paint streaks across his hands. His dark hair falls messily over his forehead, and the corners of his mouth lifts into a playful grin.

"Looks like someone had a busy day." you tease, gesturing towards the paint on his hands. "Art waits for no one." he replies dramatically as he leans against the counter like a protagonist in a renaissance painting. "But of course, I had to stop by and see my favorite florist." he adds, standing up straight.

You roll your eyes, laughing as he joins you at the workbench and begins helping you clean up. "Flattery won’t get you free flowers," you quip, sweeping a handful of cut stems into a bin.

"Who said I was here for flowers?" he shoots back, his grin widening. "I’ve got a better idea. Dinner. Tonight. The whole squad—Namjoon, Seokjin, Juwon, me, and you. You need a break, and we all miss you."

You pause, leaning against the counter as you consider his words. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to spend time with your closest friends. But after the day you’d had... between juggling work and the fiasco with Jungkook, you were tempted to go straight home and collapse into bed.

"I don’t know, Tae..." you began with a small pout. "It’s been a long day."

"Exactly why you should come." he says, stepping closer, his tone now softening with concern. "What happened, though?"

You sigh, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear, not wanting to say anything. Judging your expression, Taehyung wraps his arm around your shoulder as he pats your arm.

"Sounds like someone needs to vent over some good food." you hear him say, his teasing tone returning. "Come on. Join us. You can rant as much as you want, and I promise you’ll leave feeling at least a hundred times better."

You stare at him for a moment, weighing your options. The idea of being with your friends laughing, talking, and letting the weight of the day slip away was tempting. "Fine." you finally relent with a smirk. "But you’re paying for my dessert." you quickly add, smirking up at your best friend.

Taehyung rolls his eyes but instantly grins. "Deal. Now hurry up. We’ve got a table waiting, and I’m starving."

You laugh as the two of you continue tidying up around your store so that you can close up quickly and escape the chaos in your mind, just for a bit.

Jungkook leans against the frame of his shop’s side door as his tongue plays with the piercings on his lower lip. He let's out a deep exhale as he thinks about the long day he's had.

Though the shop was coming together, the chaos of setting up and managing his friends’ antics had left him drained. He pulls out a cigarette from his pocket but hesitates, staring at it for a second before tucking it back in. With a shake of his head, he looks to his left, eyeing your shop.

He notices how your shop is still lit, its warm golden glow, a stark contrast to the sharp fluorescents of his workspace. He steps a little forward, inching closer to your store and halts just when he's able to get a view of what's happening inside.

He peaks from the window, his eyes following through the gaps between the shelves of flowers. From where he was standing, the scene inside felt surreal, like something from a painting—the neat rows of flowers against the wall, the gentle sway of their petals under the ceiling fan, and then... you.

His eyes land on you without warning, and it's like everything else blurs for a second. You're standing near your workbench, a soft smile playing on your lips as you lean towards a man beside you. He's tall, dressed in earth tones and the two of you seem to move in sync, tidying up the scattered stems and leaves, your laughter faint but clear in the stillness of the evening.

Jungkook’s breath hitches. That smile. It was nothing like the irritated glare you’d aimed at him earlier that morning. This was something entirely different. So delicate, so soft, so genuine in a way that felt private, like something he shouldn’t be witnessing.

He crosses his arms tightly, trying to shake the strange pull of the scene, but his gaze betrays him, lingering despite himself. He stands there, wondering who that man is. A friend? A brother? A boyfriend? A husband?

"You’re staring." Yoongi’s voice cuts through the quiet, smooth as ever but laced with amusement. Jungkook jolts back into reality, straightening as his friends emerged from the shop, now standing behind him. Yoongi leans against Jungkook's shoulder, a sly smirk on his face, while Jimin and Hoseok stand back, each carrying half-empty soda cans.

"Her again?" Jimin teases as Jungkook feels his friend stand beside him. Jimin takes a sip from his soda and squints his eyes, looking inside your shop. "I’m not staring." Jungkook finally bites back, his tone sharper than intended. He looks away quickly, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Right." Hoseok smirks, circling around to join them. "Then what were you doing? Meditating? Because it looked like you were ready to write her a sonnet." he mocks, earning a snort from the other two.

Jimin lets out a low whistle. "She does look cute tonight, I'm not gonna lie. I totally understand you." he says, his grin widening as Jungkook shoots him a deadly glare. "I wonder who's the guy." Yoongi suddenly says, tilting his head slightly, his sharp eyes scanning the man beside you. "I don’t know. And I don’t care.” Jungkook snaps, his voice low but taut.

"Oh, you care.” Hoseok said with a knowing chuckle, nudging Jimin as they exchanged grins. "Look at you. All tense and broody. It’s adorable." Jungkook faces them, his jaw tight. "I’m not tense. And I’m definitely not broody. I could care less about her." he huffs.

"Care less, huh?" Yoongi murmurs, raising a brow. "Funny how you can’t stop staring at her for someone you claim not to care about." he laughs as the other two agree. Jungkook scowls, but his friends were truly relentless.

"Come on, Kook, admit it.” Jimin says, moving away from his spot as he starts walking towards his bike that's parked near their store. Hoseok follows him and Jungkook hears Jimin continue. "You’ve got a thing for her. Feisty florist, sharp tongue, cute smile— basically your type."

"She’s NOT my type," Jungkook speaks, but his voice falters slightly, betraying him. He doesn't even realize his eyes have found their way back to you. "Then why are you still looking?" Yoongi asks, his tone almost gentle now, like he was daring Jungkook to confront something he wasn’t ready to.

Jungkook clenches his fists at his sides, as he finally looks away, glancing at Yoongi. He doesn't know what to say, but he turns back to look at you. He observes the way the unknown man leans closer to you, saying something that causes a grin to appear on your face. The sight sends a strange pang through Jungkook’s chest, unfamiliar and unwelcome but he ignores it.

His friends seemed to have noticed the shift because their teasing suddenly softens while their smirks are replaced with something quieter. "Hey..." Hoseok starts after a moment, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder as he carefully pulls him away from your window and begins walking towards their bikes. "If it bugs you that much, why don’t you just talk to her? Not like your grumpy act is working." he suggests.

"Yeah, sure." Jungkook mutters darkly as he shrugs off Hoseok’s hand and continues walking. "I’ll just stroll over there and say, ‘Hey, sorry for all the noise. By the way, is that your boyfriend?’ That’ll go great." he says, voice dripping with sarcasm. Hoseok shakes his head.

"I didn't mean it like that, idiot. I meant like... in the days that come, maybe be nice to her, start a friendship... I don't know. She's our neighbor after all. Besides, today's only the first day, You have a ton of opportunities to start something fresh with her." he explains. "Yeah, he's right. It's better than standing here sulking.” Jimin shoots back, grinning.

Jungkook glares at them but says nothing, his thoughts too tangled to argue. His friends get on their bikes and wear their helmets. "Anyways, we're heading home. Lock the doors and make sure you get home safe too." Yoongi says, starting his bike. The other two follow him after a few minutes, bidding their goodbyes to Jungkook.

He quietly stands near his bike, a war between his brain and heart as he tries his best to decipher what exactly he is feeling right now. He shakes his head, telling himself there's no point thinking about all of this and walks back into his shop, deciding to just tidy up and head home. It's been a long day.

The diner was a cozy little spot on the edge of town, with warm lighting and the smell of fresh food in the air. Namjoon was already there when you arrived, his nose buried in a thick book, while Seokjin and Juwon were engaged in an animated conversation about work.

"Finally." Seokjin says as he spots you and Taehyung slide into the booth. "You’re late." he complains. "Blame her…" Taehyung says, pointing at you. "Sorry, I took some time cleaning up." you answer, taking off your coat and placing it on your lap.

Namjoon finally closes his book and looks up at the rest of you. "Wow feels like we're all linking up after ages." he says as everyone around the table laughs. "Joon we literally met last week." Seokjin says. "Yes but, Y/n wasn't there. You can't deny but it has been a while since all 5 of us have hung out." Namjoon states, earning a nod from everyone.

"You're right, I have been a little busy." You agree, smiling at everyone apologetically. "Oh it's alright Y/n-ah" Juwon says, as she proceeds to hold your hand on the table and rub your knuckles with her thumb. "How have you been? What's new?" she quickly asks.

Soon, conversation sparks up between the 5 of you as the food you had ordered arrives and somehow you find yourself ranting about the incidents of the day you just had. You launched right into the story, recounting every frustrating detail. Your friends listened intently, their reactions ranging from indignation to amusement.

"Sounds like he’s a pain.” Seokjin says, once you're somewhat done. "You should send him a passive-aggressive bouquet. A nice arrangement of thorns and poison ivy." he adds and Taehyung laughs at his comment. "Or maybe he’s just not used to someone standing up to him, you know." Juwon suggests with a smirk.

You scoff, leaning back in your chair. "Please. He’s not that intimidating. I will stand up to him whenever it's needed." you nod to yourself. "Ugh I hate him. He's like my biggest enemy right now." you let out, rubbing your temples.

Namjoon chuckles, taking a bite of his sandwich. "Be careful, Y/N. Strangers to enemies... that’s a slippery slope." he says, swallowing his food.

"And sometimes…" Taehyung suddenly adds, his grin mischievous "it’s the best kind of slope." You groan as you hear him say that, dropping your head onto the edge of the table as your friends laugh. If this was the start of your interactions with Jungkook, you dreaded to think what the rest of your coming days would look like.

<- part 1 // part 3 ->

#jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook #bts fic #jungkook angst #jungkook #bts #bts jungkook #enemies to lovers #jungkook fluff #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfiction

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sturnmeovr · 3 months ago

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♡‧₊˚ February Au Special

ఇ 'Let Us Happen' | 02/03 | Blurb | Angst | Fluff | {neighbor!Matt x brat!Reader} | Brat has always been known to hide behind her tough exterior, Matt is the only person who can break her out of her shell. Being stuck in a constant loop of Matt breaking down her walls just for her build them back up as soon as he says or does the wrong thing, it has Matt overwhelmed and ready to crumble under pressure.

ఇ 'Will you be my Valentine, mommy?’ | 02/23 | Blurb | Fluff {babydaddy!Chris x sweetheart!Reader} | A look into the future; Chris helps their son, Bear, make a Valentines present for Sweetheart.

ఇ 'Be Mine?' | TBD | Fic | Fluff | Smut | {neighbor!Matt x brat!Reader} | Matt and Brat spend the night making their own heart shaped pizzas and watching chick flicks together. When Matt asks her to be his valentine thru the pepperoni cuttings he decorates on his pizza, Brat is in awe and quickly calls for a food fight, making things a bit steamy.

ఇ 'Take Me Back' | TBD | Fic | Smut | Angst | {babydaddy!Chris x sweetheart!Reader} | Secretly, they both missed each other but were too stubborn to admit it. Sweetheart knew Chris wasn't good for her, Chris did too - he was just too stuck in his ways to admit it. When Valentines Day rolls around, she ignores Chris all day unless it's about their son. When Chris starts to overthink her lack of communication on a special day like this, he winds up at her doorstep.

ఇ 'Cat Daddy' | TBD | Blurb | Fluff | {neighbor!Matt x brat!Reader} | After a long weekend of watching friends reruns and eating junk food together, Matt declares his love for Brats cat, Wendy. He promises to love her as his own and become the best cat daddy in NYC.

ఇ 'Locked In' | TBD | Blurb | Fluff | {babydaddy!Chris x sweetheart!Reader} | Chris lets his intrusive thoughts, getting Sweethearts named tattooed in an attempt to win her back.

ఇ Neighbor!Matt Bot | 02/22 | {neighbor!Matt x brat!Reader} | Based off of the relationship Matt and Brat share; a constant cycle of Matt getting Brat to break her walls, opening up to him fully, only for her to build them back up, brick by brick, as soon as he does or says.

ఇ Babydaddy!Chris Bot | 02/15 | {babydaddy!Chris x sweetheart!Reader} | Based off of Chris and Sweethearts relationship; as guilty as he feels for cheating on her when she was nearly 7 months pregnant with his son, Chris loves the chase, and he’d do whatever it takes to win Sweetheart back. He just wants his family back together.

♡‧₊˚ Cheys Note -I wanted to surprise you guys with a little special since I recently hit 800 followers which is so surreal so me cause I was just thanking you guys for 600 a few posts ago 🥰🫶🏻 I'm so grateful for every single one of you, I can’t even put it into words! 🥹 I'm still figuring out all the dates, but I will be updating soon! Still working on the bots, they'll be my first so go easy on me lol. I’m actually looking for not tester so if anyone is interested pls lmk know!! And don't worry, I'll still be posting outside of my February Special. Send me feedback or ideas?! I would love to add to this and I'm open to suggestions! <3

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yeokii · 1 year ago

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ALL FOR US — SIM JAEYUN

synopsis . after many attempted tries of salvaging your relationship, jake gave up, letting you slip through his fingers ┆(bookshelf)

재윤 :: boyf! to ex! jake x fmr . . . O.5 K — angst yayㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤwarnings 🎱 toxicty, cheating accusations, crying, break ups (fun stuff)

PROD. YEOKII this was inspired by all for us (from the euphoria soundtrack) angst is so much easier to write than fluff

Jake knew it.

He knew it the moment you lost that spark in your eyes whenever you looked at him. He knew it the moment you would awkwardly smile whenever he said something cheesy. But wasn’t it a bit too fast?

His thoughts flooded through his head, overthinking every possible cause and outcome, every single one of them making his eyes water.

He looked down at you, your figure being enveloped by him as you rested so fondly against him, so unaware of what was going through his head. His grip on you tightened as he kissed your forehead, trying not to let his tears escape onto the pillow where his head rested.

Fuck.

He couldn’t help it.

He couldn’t help it when he knew you weren’t in love with him anymore. He just didn’t understand why. And once again, for the nth time, his heart started to crack again.

Because he knew. He knew this wasn’t the first time you fell out of love with him. This familiar pattern of yours became poignant in your relationship. The first time felt like a nightmare. When you were both silently eating a pepperoni pizza, you let the words slip out of your mouth.

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could say before you left the kitchen and out of the shared apartment you and Jake had so many memories in.

It took a bit of begging and crying from each side to make you fall in love with him again. It didn’t take long, but Jake felt like dying each second.

The second time it hit felt like a slap to him. You accused him of cheating, while all he did was stay overtime at the company he worked at to earn a higher income to buy you your anniversary gift.

His throat felt dry, and a lump was stuck there. With screaming and fighting, he finally pulled out the necklace you craved for the longest time, which made you cry on the spot. Like the hopeless lover Jake was, he came running to you, pulling you into his embrace, and ushered sweet nothings into your ear while soothing your back.

But this time, it was different.

You were more silent. More disconnected. You stopped saying “I Love You” back. Dates happened once in an eternity. It felt one-sided. You didn't have a reason why. The number of times he salvaged this relationship was all gone in a second.

“I know,” he whispered.

You looked up at him, knowing you felt too nervous to sleep. His teary-eyed gaze met with your guilty one.

He knew you loved him.

But he also knew you weren’t in love with him.

“I’m so sorry,” you said.

He hugged you even tighter, breaking eye contact.

“Go to sleep, princess,” he hushed you.

Tears started pouring out of your eyes, and the same happened to him. That night, you both went to sleep with uncontrollable hushed sobs, knowing that you wouldn’t see him again in the morning.

tags . @flwoie @zuyairus @bubblytaetae @yenqa @haknom @redm4ri @hanniluvi @haechansbbg @taejaysreads @shinunoga-iie-wa @teddywonss

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fandomfics · 8 months ago

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Enemies to lovers

A Tumblr Made Me Do It fic

Pairing: Wolverine/ Logan Howlett x gn reader, Deadpool/Wade Wilson x gn reader (platonic?)

Description: Wade is determined to make a real life enemies to lovers fanfic between his roommate and you.

Masterlist

⚠️Warnings⚠️

Wade being God's perfect idiot, italics are 4th wall breaks, fluff, language, Implied smut, maybe some angst.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You sit in the laundry room in the basement of your building scrolling your phone when two men enter. One is gruff, a defeated look on his face ready to turn into a scowl at a moments notice, the other is talking circles around the guy .

"And that's why we're basically like Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy. I bet Paradox would agree."

"You know, half the time I have no fucking clue what you're on about Wilson."

"Well Peanut, if you'd spend more time listening to what I have to say, maybe-"

"I'm gonna stop you right there bub, you know damn well that after 20 minutes of non stop talking, my brain tunes you out. Maybe it's brain death, maybe it's-"

"Maybelline!" The man you now know as Wilson sings

"No. You know what, you can do all the laundry yourself. I think you've drained my social battery completely, and it's 9am."

"I'm proud of you for emotionally regulating and telling me how you feel!" He turns to you pointing a thumb over his shoulder as the other man leaves, a serious look shading his pepperoni speckled features "He's a social outcast, but we're working on it."

You raise your eyebrows and nod to him with tightened lips.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pair of your underwear, extending them out to you, "Here, I found these in his room."

Your face turns to disgust just as the buzz of the timer on the dryer goes off. You don't make further eye contact as you grab your underwear and hastily gather your clothes.

"Bye!" He wiggles his fingers at you.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

A week later you're at a Superbowl party one of the other residents is hosting, you sit on the couch beer in hand as you laugh at the commercials. You feel the couch sink beside you when Peanut sits down, unable to hide your look of disgust you immediately vacate your spot to stand with a friend.

"Save me." You whisper keeping an eye on Peanut. "He's a fucking creep." His face turns to a scowl, he can't hear you right?

Your gaze shifts and you see Wilson on the other side of the room seemingly talking to a wall. You can't hear what he's saying, but he's very animated. What a weird god damn couple.

At some point in the evening you learn their names are actually Wade and Logan.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"Operation enemies to lovers is on track, phase one is complete. Phase two: nurture the hatred."

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Eight months pass and in this time there's an ever building tension. A scowl, an insult muttered under your breath, rumors. Incident after incident inspiring further hatred in one another manages to take place in this time.

It all finally comes to a head when Logan is walking up the stairs with Wade and his laundry in tow and you are on the way down with yours. His shoulder collides with yours, sending your dirty clothes tumbling down and scattering across the steps.

"What the fuck is your problem?" An exasperated scream streams from your mouth directly at the massive man.

"My problem? You're the fucking problem here!" His retort is sharp.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Phase two complete. All going according to plan, now to give them something they can bond over. Phase three is a go.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

"No, it's me! Hi, I'm the problem, it's me! I have spent months getting you to hate each other!" He mimics the most stereotypical evil villain laugh as he holds his hands out, palms up with his fingers bent to resemble claws. "You guys literally did nothing to each other and now you have a common goal probably."

"Murder?" You and Logan say in unison.

You look to him before a cackle erupts from your throat, "Sorry, I can't do this anymore Logan" You turn and jump into his arms with a smile and plant a sloppy kiss on his lips.

"No. No, no, no. This isn't how it's supposed to go!" Wade yells, "It's supposed to be a slow burn, you have to build a relationship based on your new found commonalities. We need plot development, sexual tension! We need a Honda Odyssey!"

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

I bet you're wondering how you got here... Well, me....I'll take you back to the beginning. After-

Whoa, hold on a god damn second buttercup. First you fuck up my fanfic, now you're breaking the fourth wall? Not gonna lie, I'm kinda pumped that someone else can talk to their audience, cause boy it it lonely, but this is my thing right n-

Do you ever fucking shut up? Do you wanna see the flashback or are you just gonna keep running your mouth? Don't test me, Logan and I are great at keeping secrets. You'd never know what happened.

Okay! Shit...proceed.

A few days after the Superbowl party Logan and I ran into each other.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

You stand in line at the coffee shop just down the street, staring down at your phone when you hear someone clear their throat behind you. You turn and see Logan there, immediately turning back to avoid him, scooting forward to get further away from him.

"Hey," he taps you on the shoulder, "don't I know you from somewhere?"

"What? No!"

"Yeah!" He moves until he's in your sight again, "You're the one that thinks I'm creepy." His face is unreadable.

"Okay, yeah. It is creepy to steal someone's underwear though."

"Ah, I knew it- wait, what?"

"Wade found my underwear in your room. He gave em back to me. So maybe stop being a creep and leave me alone, thanks." You move forward as the line shifts.

"Whoa," he holds his hands up in surrender, "I didn't do anything, I swear! That idiot is probably up to something."

"Look, it's fine, leave me alone and I'll forget it ever happened. Really. Just don't steal my shit again."

"Next!"

You place your order trying to ignore Logan's closeness, when you've finished and are about to get your total Logan adds his order and hands over enough cash for both.

"Least I can do. I'm sorry about my friend."

. . .

The following day you are sitting on the fire escape, people watching, when you hear a familiar voice.

"It's called an enemies to lovers trope. The name really says it all. I just have to intervene here and there, give back stolen underwear and say they're from him, start some rumors. Get em to really hate each other. Then, I'll reveal my devious plot and they'll have no choice but to join forces and turn against me. Through the power of working towards a common goal over time they'll fall in love and I'll have the perfect fanfic."

"I thought you said we couldn't build a snowman you lying motherfucker. I'm outta here." You hear the other voice trail off in a string of curses.

You sit there dumbfounded, Logan wasn't lying. His idiot roommate was plotting...a fanfic?

. . .

The following week you are in the laundry room again and Logan appears, "oh, sorry. I'll come back later." He turns to leave.

"Wait!" He faces you again with a puzzled expression, "I heard Wade talking the other day from the fire escape. You were right. He's up to something." You relay the conversation and have to stop yourself from laughing as Logan's eyes roll so hard you think they might disappear into his skull.

"I have an idea though." The mischief is clear in your eyes, "I say we play along, then when the time comes, we ruin the end of the story. Do something totally different than what he's going for."

Logan smiles, something you haven't seen before, it's disarming how gorgeous it is. "Oh, that's perfect, he'll fucking hate that." He laughs and your stomach flutters a bit. Now that you're really seeing him, you want to get to know the real him.

"We should meet up often, make plans on how we're gonna do this." You say, hoping you're not too obvious.

"I know the perfect place."

. . .

The library is small, the only few tables occupied by studying youth. you and Logan find a spot in the deserted self help corner and sit on the floor across from one another, backs leaning up against the shelves.

"So," He whispers with a smile, "what's the plan?"

"We play along. He's obviously gonna try desperately to make us hate each other, so we go along with it."

The two of you whisper back and forth for a while about different ways you can pretend to hate each other and things you could do. After a time the conversation turns.

"You're pretty new to the building right?" His eyes meet yours across the isle.

"Yeah, I moved in last month. Not the worst so far." You shrug your shoulders and he chuckles.

"You from around here?"

"No, I needed a change of scenery. My friend lives in the building and told me about an opening. Took a chance to get away from my hometown. You?"

"No," a bit of pain briefly crosses his features, quick enough that you almost miss it. "Wade brought me here, gave me a home when I didn't really have one."

"Oh, I wouldn't have expected that..." You trail off.

"Yeah, he's a batshit crazy motor mouth, but he's a good friend. Mostly."

. . .

Every week you and Logan meet at the library, occupying the same spot across from each other, briefly go over plans before managing to drift to other conversations. Sometimes it's random stories from your pasts, other times it's deeper, sometimes it's just talking about your week. You grow closer, building a friendship in this time.

"Come watch this!" You say as you hold your phone in front of you. He scoots to sit next to you, his hand brushing yours as you hand him an ear bud. He leans into you slightly as you watch a video of Deadpool Fails. He's revealed his and Wades abilities long before this and you know he'll love watching the man fail over and over.

He tries his best to keep quiet, but one clip in particular causes a snort laugh to erupt from him and you quickly slap your hand over his mouth as you giggle yourself.

"You're gonna get us kicked out!" He continues to laugh, his face going red, it's infectious and you're sent into a fit of laughter until you're grabbing your stomach.

A shadow suddenly eclipses the two of you and when your eyes raise to see the librarian, you quiet immediately. A slap to Logan's arm jolts him out of his laughter and he finally looks up to the stern woman

"Sorry." You mumble with a look of shame.

"Don't let it happen again." For some reason this sends you into another fit of laughter and Logan follows suit. You're kicked out of the library and find yourselves sitting on a bench until the laughter dies down.

"Sorry sweetheart. Guess we'll have to find a new place to meet." He says with a chuckle. Your heart leaps a bit at the nickname, you've certainly developed a crush on him over the last five months since this all started, but you've done your best to keep it in check.

Blush rises in your cheeks and you look away, "Guess so. I uh...gotta get home, text me if you can think of another place!" You give a quick smile without meeting his eyes before you rush away.

. . .

Logan: found a place, I'll send the address, 7pm tomorrow. Wear something nice.

Me: What? Why?

Logan: Trust me, it's a place he'd never go near. It's ducking perfect.

Logan: ducking

Logan: DUCKING

Logan: Damn it. F U C K I N G.

Me: 😂

. . .

You take your time getting yourself ready, you look damn good and you know it. You arrive at the address and find a cozy restaurant, Somewhere between a diner and fine dining. Candles on every table, soft lighting, wine being poured, definitely not what you expected from Logan. As you scan the place you see him, he stands and smiles with a shy wave.

You've never seen him dressed like this, slacks, white buttondown with the sleeves rolled up to reveal his forearms, top two buttons undone. You pause for a moment until you realize you're staring and move towards him sheepishly.

"You look amazing." He says with a soft smile and a gentle kiss on your cheek.

"You look awfully handsome yourself."

He pulls your chair out for you and as soon as you sit he starts to speak. "I hope this is okay. If it's too weird we can find somewhere else-"

"No, this is nice. Is this..." You trail off trying to find a tactful way to figure out what's going on here. "Is this a date?"

His eyes widen and his cheeks flush, "Well, I...uh," he rubs the back of his neck. "I just thought you deserved something nice. Do you... want it to be a date?"

You waver a bit, unsure what will happen if you answer truthfully, so you take caution with your approach, "I wouldn't mind if it was, but only if that's what you want."

He smiles brightly, "Yeah Sweetheart, that's what I want."

The conversation flows freely as it always does with him, you don't talk about Wade or his crazy shit, you don't talk about your plans, you just talk about your own lives. The conversation is deeper than those you've had before, you're getting to know each other on a more intimate level, opening up. Before you know it the restaurant is empty with the exception of the wait staff.

"I don't want this to end," you say unintentionally quiet in your confession, "not yet."

He cups your face in his hand and brushes his thumb over your cheek, searching your eyes. "It doesn't have to."

. . .

A bench on a rooftop overlooking the nighttime city skyline beckons you as you emerge from the stairwell. You sit close to Logan deep in thought, watching the city pass beneath you. A chill runs down your spine and he opens his arms up, offering his warmth. You lean into his side deeply inhaling his musky scent as he rests his arm over your shoulder.

"Whacha thinking about?" He breaks the comfortable silence.

"Just how nice this is," you reply looking up into his eyes from where your head rests on his shoulder, "thank you."

He gives you a warm smile, "Of course." He rests his head against yours and squeezes you a bit tighter.

. . .

The next day a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a box of your favorite candy is delivered to your apartment, your heart leaps as you read the note, "Thinking of you -Logan"

You swoon like the main character of a romcom walking on cloud nine after a wonderful interaction with their love interest.

. . .

Logan: Wade's away this week on a mission... Can I come see you?

Me: I would like that 😊

. . .

The text had come a few days later and you were overjoyed at the prospect of spending time with him without having to sneak around. A knock on the door brought you out of your daydream and you rush to open it, smiling widely.

"Come in," you gesture for him to enter, "would you like something to drink?"

"Actually," he pulls a bag from behind his back, "I brought us drinks, candy, and popcorn. I thought we could have a movie night."

"Yes! There's a new movie on Netflix I've been dying to watch!" You take him to the kitchen and prepare the popcorn and cups of ice before sitting on the couch and starting the movie.

When you sit a little further away than he'd like he wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer, "This okay?"

All you can manage is a nod as you snuggle into him.

You wake up with your head in his lap, he's gently stroking your hair, the screen of the TV is black, and he's scrolling through his phone.

"Hey sleepyhead." He says gently smiling down at you as he puts his phone down.

"Fuck. I missed the whole movie didn't I? I'm sorry..."

"Hey, don't worry about it... and I turned it off as soon as you fell asleep."

"How are you so fucking thoughtful and considerate?" You blurt out as you sit up.

"It's easy with you. I just...want you to be happy, always."

You stare into his eyes, the air between you crackles with the electricity of your desire. He pulls you into his lap and wraps his arms tightly around you, still keeping your gaze.

"Can I kiss you?"

You nod and close the distance, a tender kiss that sends waves of butterflies through you, you want to stay here forever. You wrap your arms around his neck, desperately keeping him close as though he might disappear completely if you aren't there to anchor him.

When you finally pull away he cups your face in his, "Wade is an absolute idiot, but he has made me a better man. A man who would do anything to protect the people he loves. I'm lucky to add you to that list."

"You...?"

"Yeah sweetheart, I love you." He smiles softly, "you don't have to say it back, I just wanted-"

"I love you too." You press your lips to his again, he deepens the kiss and before either of you know it you're in a frenzy. You stand and grab his hand leading him to the bedroom.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

And fade to black.

WAIT, you can't just stop before you get to the juicy stuff. You ruined my fanfic! I spent eight months on this, I demand porn with a plot! This is Tumblr, the people are gonna demand a part two at least, and when the writer inevitably gives the people what they want, I'll be there!

You haven't heard the last of user xXxBigDaddyDeadpoolxXx!

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hemmingshouse · 1 year ago

Text

you’re not my pizza / chris sturniolo

summary: chris had always felt a hatred towards you ever since you two met. little did you know that after your outburst he would finally come to his senses.

warnings: enemies to lovers (sorta?), cursing, yelling, angst, sappy!chris

pt. 2

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

“this is what i told you all about!” you exclaimed happily as you finally found the tiktok you’d been searching for ever since you stepped foot into the sturniolo house hold. you found a tiktok trend you thought the boys would love to do and made it your mission to find the video to show them. “it’s gonna be so fuckin’ funny.”

chris was sat across from you at the kitchen island whilst matt and nick were on both sides of you. you straightened your arms so the two brothers were able to see what was going on. when you three giggled it caused chris to roll his eyes, shaking his head as he internally told himself to shut up instead of making a snarky remark about how annoying you and your unhealthy tiktok obsession were. you slid your phone towards chris with some hesitation, the guy never really checking the video your tiktok played on repeat.

“nah, i feel like we could actually nail that,” matt chuckled as he watched his younger brother, nick wrapping an arm around your shoulders as he patted your head in an agreement to matt’s statement. “chris? are you in?”

the youngest of three looked up from where he was texting away on his phone, unbothered with what you all just talked about and the way the video played on a loop right in front of him. he sighed, “if this is about that stupid tiktok idea of hers, i’m not doing it.”

nick scoffed and raised his eyebrows, “excuse you?” he started as he sat up straight, “drop that attitude motherfucker, at least she’s coming up with ideas whilst you’re sitting here doing absolutely nothing.”

it had always been easy getting along with matt and nick ever since you met them. you met nick in the local park nearby your house when he struggled to get the right angle for his new pictures and asked you to help him out. when you showed him the ones you took, he swore on his life that nobody besides you or his two brothers could take his instagram pictures.

matt showed you around the neighbourhood the first time he hung out with you after nick had told him you moved down from boston to la to persue your art career and didn’t really know anybody just yet. he drove you around, loving the way you two bonded over your love for root beers and pepperoni pizza. matt always found it fascinating to hear your stories about boston because your lives were so similar yet so different. it was crazy how you only lived in the same state and only a few blocks down the road from the sturniolo household, but never crossed paths once.

chris, on the other hand, was another story. because matt and nick took so much interest in their newest friend and tried to build up a good and healthy friendship with you, they sometimes spent less time with chris. he always declined tagging along in the beginning, being satisfied with the alone time and how quiet the house was without his two brothers, but when they started to bring you to their house he switched moods instantly.

you weren’t really sure why chris despised you as much as he did. you often let the boys be and did your own thing, yet chris was always nagging about how his brothers rarely ever spent time with him anymore. you tried to bail out of today as well as the previous time, but matt was already in your driveway to pick you up when you tried to cancel.

it was times like these where you weren’t fazed with anything chris had to say. somehow and some way, that kid always tried to get under your skin and you always let him because you were scared his brothers were going to pick his side and drop you instantly.

but this time, you’ve had enough. you narrowed your eyes at chris as he looked almost proud of himself for spitting out another nasty remark. you ticked your head to the side before speaking up. “you’ve been yapping all fucking day and running your mouth, yet you fail to come up with something that actually makes sense? or something that’s gonna benefit you and your brothers. don’t fucking talk to me like that.”

matt’s mouth dropped and nick let out a yell at your comeback, slapping his hands over his mouth as he looked back and forth between you and chris. the smirk on chris’s lips turned into a thin line, his fingers creating a dent into the pepsi can he was currently holding because of how infuriated you got him by running your mouth.

“what the fuck was that?” he spoke up, eyebrows raised cockily as he leaned forward onto the marble kitchen island. “didn’t you learn to be quiet when it’s not your turn to talk?”

nick was gonna shut his brother’s behaviour down by stepping in and getting a word in, but you shot him a quick look not to. you turned your head back to meet a cold gaze, grin dancing on chris’s lips. “didn’t you learn to say thank you when someone tries to sort out your shit? you’re a fucking asshole and quite frankly, i’m fucking done with how you’re treating me.”

you stepped down from the high bar stool and grabbed your phone off the counter from where matt placed it back in front of you after saving the tiktok video you spent ages searching for after chris didn’t take a single look at it.

“y/n..” matt spoke up quietly, grasping your hand in his when you tried to reach for your house keys. “i’m sorry he’s such a shitface. please stay?”

“he can never help but be an egocentric little shithead when he doesn’t get his way,” nick spoke up disappointingly, running a hand through his hair as he took a look at their youngest brother. “i can’t believe your pathetic ass.”

you shook your head and sent matt an apologetic smile, squeezing his hand quickly before reaching for your purse that hugh from the bar stool. “i was never gonna get through his thick skull to begin with.”

“oh look, she’s walking away from confrontation again!” chris exclaimed as he shook his head in disbelief and sat back in his chair. he earned a smack on the back of the head from nick and a middle finger and deep, disappointed sigh from matt.

“luckily for you, i won’t ever step a foot into this house when you’re in it. you fucking win, christopher. i can’t be fucked with your bullshit anymore.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

it must’ve been a week and a few days since you left the sturniolo household in a rush to get to your uber before anyone noticed you were sobbing your eyes sore on the way out. matt offered to drive you home, but you didn’t want him to get into a fight with chris for choosing your side.

you hated the way chris put you down every time, the way his face would scrunch up in pure disgust whenever you’d say or do something he wasn’t a fan off. you couldn’t brush it off anymore, it had gotten too much.

you just submitted an essay for your art course and decided you’d order yourself a pizza and watch a few episodes of your favourite show to try and relax a little. his words were glued inside your brain and it was hard to not think about them, they truly broke your heart. finding comfort in your favourite food and show seemed like a good thing right now.

matt and nick profusely apologised for their brother’s behaviour. matt had told you they both wouldn’t speak to him until chris came to his senses and would apologise to you. both of you were aware that was a big thing because he despised your guts - why would he ever apologise?

nick was on another level. he had ditched every single plan he and chris made the past few days, just so his brother was able to feel what it felt like to be downgraded the way he did with you. nick’s stubbornness surely made you feel a bit better, but it made you feel a bit torn. even if chris was a major asshole to you, you didn’t want the bond he had with his brothers to get abandoned because of you.

a knock on the stoor caused you to slip out of the trance you were in. you sighed softly and put yourself together before walking towards your front door to collect your doughy pepperoni pizza.

you swung the door open and plastered the smallest smile on your face, one that immediately fell when you saw him standing in the door frame. a sigh fell from your mouth, not wanting to deal with his shit right now. “you’re not my pizza.”

chris bit the inside of his cheek, knowing you were going to get grumpy when he interrupted your peaceful evening. “uhm- no- i’m not no,” he coughed, shaking his head. “hey uhm- i felt the need to apologise.”

you narrowed your eyes, “is that because you’re actually sorry or because you want your brothers to treat you normally again?” you asked him sternly, noticing how his hands slid into the pockets of his black joggers as he rocked back and forth onto his feet.

“i acted like an asshole,” he stated with a nod, “i’ve- like always been an asshole towards you and i’m truly sorry for making you feel the way i always did,” chris spoke softly, “look y/n- we’re so similiar in too many ways and i- i don’t know, it’s just scary to think i’m replaceable.”

“have you been practicing this in the mirror or something? it’s coming out a lil’ too rehearsed,” you yold him seriously, although there was the slightest teasing hint in your voice. “what do you mean by too similar?”

chris was surprised when you stepped out of the way to let him into your apartment, clearing his throat as he took off his converse near the front door. “we share the same interests, have the same fucked up sense of humour and we always yap everyone’s ears off,” he rambled on as you lead him towards the living room, “whenever- i’m- when you’d be at our place i’d always feel a bit left out,” he scratched the back of his neck, “you’re such a fun person to be around and- i don’t know, it felt like matt and nick chose you over me sometimes. i know that’s not your fault at all now, but i took it out on you because that- fuck- that was just the easiest way to deal with it.”

his words caused your heart to break a little. the frown on his face, scrunched up eyebrows and a hurtful look in his eyes made you feel so guilty for being so unaware of this all. you sat him down on the couch, clearing your throat.

“i’m so sorry you feel that way, chris,” you spoke softly, fiddling with the ring in your middle finger, “that was never my intention to begin with. i always hung out with y’all because i found you interesting - like matt and nick always told me we’d get along so well and i find it sad we never truly got around to actually hanging out because you always brushed me off so fucking hard.”

the brunette nodded his head, “i know,” he agreed, “i now know i should’ve gotten to know you before i came to a conclusion. i feel so stupid and i’m so so sorry, i can’t begin to understand how fucked up i made you feel.”

the way he was nervously fidgeting with the material of his joggers and how he ran his hand through his hair three times in the past minute made you realise that he couldn’t be more genuine than he was right now. you made a mental note to thank matt and nick for putting some sense into him as well, but the anxious boy on your couch was now your main priority.

“it’s alright chris,” you smiled softly as you reached forward to brush your thumb across his knuckles in a hope it would calm him down slightly, “thanks for apologising and coming here to explain yourself.”

he chuckled, “matt and nick not talking to me made me think about every encounter we had and i must say - i was kinda proud of you for sticking up for yourself last week.”

it caused you to let out a laugh before chris hesitantly turned his hand so your palms lay flat against each other’s. you were able to see he was trying to figure out if what he was doing was too much or not, so you took it upon yourself to tangle your fingers together with his. “really?” you shook your head with a smile, “was about damn time i scolded at your for being a fucking dick.”

chris laughed and nodded his head in agreement, softly brushing a thumb across your knuckles as a soft rosy blush spread onto his cheeks. you figured it was because you had never been this close before - this being the first time he actually felt physical contact from you. it caused a tingle to run up your spine as chris watched your every move.

chris found it important to read your body language to know if he was crossing the line with you - this new type of friendship making him wonder if it was okay for him to grab your hand or pull you in a friendly hug. he had never found himself wondering what it would be like to be this close to you, your breath fanning his lips and his knee brushing your bare one.

“i’m happy you did,” he spoke up, voice quiet, “we wouldn’t have been here if you didn’t.”

the way your eyes were darting back and forth between his lips and his eyes made your heartbeat race faster than you could ever recall. you weren’t sure why you suddenly felt so fucking attracted to him, but chris showing his vulnerable side must have ignited something in you.

his free hand reached upwards to brush a stray lock of hair behind your ear, fingertips softly grazing your cheek. you leaned into his touch while keeping eye contact with him, noticing how he hesitantly started leaning in a bit more. “you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled, hand sliding down to cup your jaw and a thumb running across your soft lips.

you let out a shaky sigh, feeling yourself get worked up with the way chris was holding your face and keeping eye contract throughout it all. it felt surreal to have him this close after all you two encountered, but it also felt extremely good to let go of the hatred you felt for him - ready to have so many other feelings towards the youngest sturniolo.

“if you want me to stop, i suggest you do it now,” he inhaled sharply, “i don’t know if i can stop after i start.”

his words caused your head to spin as his free hand now cupped the other side of your jaw, thumbs resting on your cheeks. you closed your eyes for a few seconds before you looked at him again, “i don’t want you to stop, chris.”

the way you finally called him by his nickname more than once today made him feel all giddy inside as you usually only called him christopher or the occasional motherfucker when you were pissed at him.

he quickly licked his lips as he felt your fingers curl around his wrists, nose lightly nudging yours to test the waters slightly. when he noticed your breath hitch in your throat, chris knew you wanted it as much as he did.

his lips brushed yours every so slightly, loving the way your lip balm slightly got smudged because of his actions. chris was about to deepen the kiss by fully pressing his lips to yours, but got rudely interrupted when the doorbell rang.

he let out a groan and it caused you to giggle, still holding onto his wrists. “i reckon you’re staying over for dinner then?”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

do we do a smutty part two? ;)

#chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fanfic

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