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interlunium-opus · 3 years ago

Text

Beyond 7 Minutes in Heaven [Sunghoon.]

Abstract: 7 minutes in heaven with Sunghoon except within the 7 minutes nothing happened. Then when it was time to go out, you two found yourselves locked and things started to go awry.

“Not funny guys,” you exclaimed as the panic was beginning to set in. You can hear the boys, at the other side of the door, making a ruckus, accusing each other as being the last one to have held or saw the key. Amidst all the cacophony of noise, you can also hear what sounded like Jay and Ni-Ki giggling mischievously at your predicament. Knowing their track record at mischiefs, you won’t even be surprised if this had been planned by those two all along.

It was the end of the Fall Semester and as per usual tradition, the boys from Block E at your student hall decided to throw a party. Normally, you would have avoided parties like a plague but it was your final year in university so you decided to stray out of habit and be socially adventurous for once. You weren’t exactly strangers with the boys either — in fact, you were close with Sunghoon and Jay, both of whom were in your Economics module, thanks to your lecturer putting you guys in a study group for one whole semester together.

As expected, Jay had invited almost the entirety of campus to the party and not even an hour into the party, you can already feel your head spinning from the bedlam of noises. Just as luck would have had it though, as you were about to quietly slip out of the party, Jay got a hold of you, roping you suddenly into a game of Truth or Dare, promising that he would let you go if the bottle does not land on you during the first three spins. You begrudgingly agreed, thinking that in a crowd of around 30 people, the odds are pretty slim and indeed it was, as the third spin landed on Sunghoon. You remember heaving a huge sigh of relief and was just ready to just dash off from the crowd, when suddenly in some sort of cruel twist of fate, the dare that Ni-Ki, the mischievous and youngest one from the group, threw to Sunghoon was a ‘7 Minutes in Heaven’ with you. Yes, of all the people there, he chose you.

That was how you ended up stuck in a small closet with the campus heartthrob at 12AM on a Saturday night — and if that, in itself, was not preposterous enough, the boys also somehow lost the key to the closet, effectively locking you alone with Sunghoon for who knows how long.

“Look who’s got more time to go beyond the first base now,” you hear Jay shriek from the other side of the door, followed by the sound of, possibly, his arm getting smacked by Jungwon, the voice of reason of the group, “Don’t worry guys, the keys should still be in the living room somewhere — it can’t just disappear into the thin air,” Jungwon added, trying to inject some sort of calm amidst the chaos, “Otherwise, I’ll just run to the main office down the street to get help from security.”

“Uh no way. In case you forgot, we’re holding a party right now — it’s against the rules. The people in admin would have a field day,” Sunoo protested.

“But we can’t let them just stay in there — they’ll run out of oxygen!” Jake, the saint of the group, bemoaned, “Look, a person’s pulse can increase up to 100 beats per minute or more when they kiss so assuming that they have been making out for the past 7 minutes straight and considering the dimensions of the walk-in closet, that’d mean -“

“Excuse me, we definitely have not been -“ you protested, only to get cut off by Heeseung, “You have a point Jake — well, we can always kick the door open? It’s faster?”

You sighed, turning to Sunghoon beside you, “they’re not listening are they?”

Sunghoon shook his head, “guys, can I just remind you that we have broken the tv and the vacuum cleaner — let’s try to not further taint our reputation alright, we’re just one furniture or appliance away from being labelled the official vandals of the block.”

You can hear the boys agreeing before launching off on another debate of who held the keys last . You sighed again, letting go of the doorknob and rested your forehead on the door, lamenting, “Can this night get any worse….”

“Oh come on, you make it sound like we got ourselves stuck in a bunker,” Sunghoon scoffed as he nonchalantly walked away from the door towards the end of the room to sit atop the base cabinets that lined the walls, “Trust me, Jungwon will get us out, by hook or by crook, whether it is by alarming the security or breaking the door.”

“Aren’t you being too calm about this?” You raised an eyebrow at him, crossing your arms.

“I’m stuck with my bestfriend — I have no complaints,” he shrugged before beckoning you to join him, “Come on, sit. I know I have prominent canines but I don’t bite.”

You pressed your lips together forming a tight-lipped smile as you nodded, taking a seat atop of the cabinet beside him, “You’re right, I could have been stuck with a total stranger.”

“You think this is like karma getting back at us for not making out for the past 7 minutes?” Sunghoon uttered, his face was so impassive that if you hadn’t known him well, you would’ve thought he was serious.

“If anything, Karma would’ve hit me if I make out with you,” you replied as a matter-of-factly, “in the form of your campus fans that is. I am pretty sure, this would be enough impetus for them to sharpen their pitchforks tonight and burn me at stake tomorrow. Maybe I should submit an anonymous post on the uni’s online page clarifying “dont worry you psychos — nothing happened in the closet. We played Jenga instead.””

Sunghoon sniggered, “as true as that was for the past 7 minutes — now that you said it out loud, it sounds like a lie you’d tell your parents when you’re caught quietly slipping back into your home at 5AM after a date.”

“I can tell you must’ve used that excuse a lot,” you replied sarcastically, elbowing him gently.

“Oh definitely not me,” Sunghoon smirked as he leaned closer to your ears, whispering, “The girls I send home at 5AM do.”

“Ugh, gross,” you grimaced, lightly kicking his foot, “What happened to the modest and shy Park Sunghoon that befriended me from 2 years ago?”

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, kicking your foot back gently, "the only girl I’ve sent home at 5AM is you ‘cause you insisted on staying at the library until the wee hours.”Despite being knackered from his evening ice skating practices, Sunghoon would always stop by the library if he knows you’re staying in there until late. Most of the time he would join you but instead of studying, he just sleeps, waking up only once you’re starting to pack up as if he came just to make sure you’d have someone to walk you home. In fact, Sunghoon was pretty adamant at committing this particular selfless yet unnecessary act that you ended up stopping your overnight library stays just so that he can get enough sleep. “At this rate, you two might as well date,” is what Jay would often say — not that you two ever dared to entertain that possibility though.

“Really? For a campus heartthrob, that sounds very sad,” you quipped, “You should really get your priorities straight. Get a girlfriend or something — with the amount of girls lining up for you, you can just pick and choose.”

“I know right,” he murmured, “that’s probably why people keep on thinking we’re actually together ‘cause you’re the only girl I spend an inordinate amount of time with.”

“And now we are also stuck in a closet together — it’s like adding oil to the fire. I will definitely be burnt at stake tomorrow.”

“Oh come on,” he wrapped an arm over your shoulder, “Aside from the obvious fact that you’re stuck with the campus heartthrob, which is an opportunity millions would kill for, you’re also stuck with your bestfriend — am I not the ideal candidate to be stuck with compared to others, say Jay or Jake or Heeseung?”

“They’re not so bad. Jay’s fun to be with, Jake’s a saint and Heeseung is well-mannered, I don’t see why-“

“I meant,” he interjected, “if you’re stuck with them, you’d definitely be in a 7 minutes in heaven, or hell, situation alright. I mean, Jay’s a daredevil, he wouldn’t even hesitate; Jake’s a massive flirt and Heeseung, well, the guy is smooth as heck with a lot of experience, he’ll definitely —“

“Eww, Sunghoon what the heck,” you shoved him away, “Right, now that you say it — you’re definitely the best candidate as you’re probably like the tamest or something.”

“I’m sure that was meant to be a compliment but I feel slightly offended,” he raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

“Oh - by the way, speaking of Heeseung, I've told you that we’re in a group together for Mathematical Analysis Right?” you tapped his arm excitedly, “Well, we ended up scoring the highest for the group project and ever since then people have been calling us the 'Dream Team'!"

Always so supportive, Sunghoon beamed, “Really? Well, I wouldn’t expect any less from you.”

"I mean, to understand how miraculous this is you need to know that we have never been friendly with one another. In fact, I've always felt that he hated me since he's very competitive and I was amongst the top scorers in class — well, the feeling was mutual I guess, I didn’t like him much either. Not when he seem to always be out for blood, mine specifically, whenever it’s exam time anyway,” you continued jabbering excitedly, oblivious of Sunghoon’s faltering expressions, “But hey, we ended up working so well together. In fact, we did not just work well together but we hit it off well too, which again, takes me by surprise.”

By right, Sunghoon thought he should have been happy since two of his best friends got along well but somehow, the more you talk about him, the more unsettled he felt. It was the exact same feeling that dawned on him whenever he heard Heeseung sung praises about you. Except, this time, now that he hears it from you like some sort of reciprocity, it somehow stung, “You’re not developing a crush on him are you?”

“I- what- of course not,” you stared at him incredulously, “He is, objectively speaking, almost immaculate in every aspect though. The looks, the grades, the skills — it’s basically ridiculous. I would’ve thought he would have a bad personality because you know, humans are supposed to have a flaw but welp, boy’s also kind and caring —“

“You should probably stop hanging out with him,” Sunghoon blurted, “he's popular with girls and he also has a lot of female friends — you’re setting yourself up for a heartbreak.”

“Dude, I told you, I don’t have feelings for him why would I-“

“Okay, but what if he likes you.”

“You said it himself, he has a lot of female friends/acquaintances — they’re all hot too, so I am 100% certain he wouldn’t.”

“You don’t know that — you’re bad at picking up romantic cues anyway,” he retorted, remembering all the time Heeseung looked all gleeful whenever he came home from hanging out or studying with you — looking absolutely lovestruck. Sunghoon would know of course, afterall he had lived with him for almost 3 years now — he knows Heeseung don’t just look like that after hanging out with anyone. Not that Sunghoon wanted to tell you all that though.

“Oh that’s rich coming from the so called ‘Ice Prince’ — just so you know the nickname is not just meant to describe your ice-skating prowess or your beauty, it’s meant to also describe how seemingly aromantic you are,” you countered.

“Wait, me? aromantic?” He scoffed, looking slightly offended.

“I mean you never really respond to anyone’s advances nor did it seem like you care — I guess that’s how you acquired the reputation,” you shrugged. Noticing his cold expressions, you backpedaled, thinking maybe you had gotten too far, “I mean, that’s not bad. Life does not revolve around romance and look at us now — we’re not all up in each other — ” you stopped yourself, feeling suddenly awkward.

“In each other’s what?” Sunghoon muttered.

“It doesn’t m—“

“In each other’s face?” He cut you off sharply as he hopped off the cabinets. With an unchanging expression, he turned towards you, lowering himself as he placed both hands against the edge of the cabinet, on either side of you, effectively caging you in.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, slightly taken aback, “Dude, what the heck?”

“If I was aromantic like you said, nothing would happen right? So what are you afraid of?” He smirked, “What now? I thought you have ice in your veins. Are you suddenly feeling shy?”

“Shy? More like you’re taking my share of oxygen by being so close,” you argued, “Also, if the boys come in, they’d misunderstand.”

“It’s a 7 minutes in heaven, it’s well within the context,” he replied curtly, the grin gradually fading as his gaze, usually gentle and adoring, darkened with such intensity never-before-seen that it was beginning to fill you with trepidation.

You can feel your heart beginning to pick up pace — perhaps, it was the Oxygen in the room really depleting; perhaps the dimmed lighting was beginning to make you feel increasingly claustrophobic or perhaps, as much as you wanted to deny it, it was because of Sunghoon. While this was not the first time you had been this close to him, his proximity to you tonight felt almost as if you’re onboard of a ship that is about to crash onto an iceberg.

Prone to being over-analytical and overly strategic at times — a pitfall for social situations as Jay always say — you often are able to figure most people out and stay 2 steps ahead of them. This includes Sunghoon. He is afterall an epitome of structure and security which means, for someone like you, he’s predictable most of the time. Yet that night, your mind was going into overdrive trying to ponder what exactly the usually predictable Sunghoon was trying to do. As Sunghoon is highly pragmatic and nonexperimental with a preference tending towards familiarity and stability, you know Sunghoon would never just kiss someone just for the sake of it as he would take the ramifications of a kiss seriously. And with a best friend, the ramifications spill far greater for the overthinker to bear.

In fact, whenever someone asks him as to why he does not date around despite his popularity, he always maintainted that regardless of how he feels, he’d never act on it unless he is certain that the other party feels the same way and is in it for the long run rather than just for the thrill or heat of the moment. You call it risk-averse, he calls it being risk-smart, only engaging in calculated risks.

Yet, despite all the arguments you conjure up in your head to convince yourself that he was just messing around, his actions as well as the cold and steely gaze that was increasingly unnerving you, screamed otherwise. That said, you thought, if you overreact and it turns out he was indeed messing around, he would use it as some sort of bragging rights from here onwards for having successfully made you be all flustered. No way I’ll let him have that, you thought to yourself, two can play the game.

Little did you know, Sunghoon too was in shambles inside. He knew this feeling: the magnetic pull that he sometimes get when he stares too long and too deeply into your eyes followed by the fluttery sensation in his stomach and the hammering in his chest. Yet, every other time it dawned on him, his pragmatism and risk-aversion will always pull him back to reality. But that night, something seemed to have set him off: he didn’t know what it was, was it the context that was increasingly lulling him; was it the way you talk about Heeseung earlier; was it the way you look up at him and the way your hands brushed against his earlier; was it because you just called him the ‘tamest’ compared to the rest? Who knows. All that he knew for certain right at that moment was that his grips were tightening as if he was trying to grasp at every last piece of reason that is left in him to stop himself from acting so rashly. Suddenly, Jake’s words from a few weeks ago came to his mind.

“Dude, you got it bad,” Jake shook his head dismissively, “Sooner or later you’d have to face your feelings okay. Sitting on it will only make it fester, increasing the risks of it blowing up in uglier ways in the future.”

“We’re just best friends — it’s platonic,” Sunghoon maintained, for the umpteenth time.

“Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Jake raised his eyebrows before shrugging, “whatever, it’s your life. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you okay.”

Without realizing, he had begun to slowly lean in, his eyes glued onto your eyes as if under some kind of hypnosis before lingering onto your lips. As much as you wanted to stay unperturbed, the increasing proximity was unnerving you that you backed away at the same pace, “You’re not.. drunk are you?”

He finally stopped, his eyes darted back to yours, threatening to bore holes, “as sober as ever.”

And with that, as if a thread has been snapped, he had leaned in completely — his lips now colliding with yours. You froze — unable to immediately register the sudden turn of events. The next thing you knew, he had wrapped his hand across the back of your neck, deepening the kiss, while the other arm snaked across your back, pulling you close towards him and closing whatever small gap there was between you two.

As the air begin to feel tighter, the realization then begin to dawn and in that instant, you used all your strength to push him and tear yourself away from his grasps. For a moment you two just stared each other — dazed and breathless.

“Park Sunghoon, if that was your idea of messing around — you had definitely gone overboard,” you muttered, staring at him in disbelief.

Sunghoon scoffed, “You think that was just me being mischievous? Have you ev—”

Just then you hear the door click, “Thank God, you guys are fine!” Jake cried out of relief as soon as he saw you guys, “We’ve been knocking for the past few minutes and you guys weren’t answering, thought you guys fainted or something!”

“Wait what hell is this Jenga doing here?” Jay, who followed closely behind Jake, grumbled, pointing at the colourful Jenga blocks in the middle of the room — the one you and Sunghoon used to kill time earlier, “Don’t tell me this is what you two were playing with instead of making out?!”

You forced a chuckle, hoping that would have masked the panic that was rising within you, as you proceeded to lie, “Duh obviously. You guys put two of the most aromantic people in the party together, what did you expect?”

“Wow, I’m disappointed in both of you,” Jay shook his head in dismay, “but whatever, two bestfriends kissing each other would’ve meant messy business so—”

“You look flushed y/n, you okay?” Jungwon asked, lowering his head to get a clearer look at you, “I guess it must’ve been hot in here. Let’s go out. Sorry about earlier, apparent someone wa —” he continued to ramble while you just nodded and smiled — pretending you were attentively listening when truthfully, nothing was registering for your mind was in such a state of disarray. You did not even dare to look back at Sunghoon, not at that moment at least.

“Hey buddy come on,” Jake called out to Sunghoon who seemed to be rooted on spot, his eyes glued at the remnants of the collapsed Jenga tower. “That’s funny,” Sunghoon muttered to himself quietly as he thought just how perfectly the sight of the collapsed tower seemed to mirror the state of your friendship with him that night.

____________________________

Author's note: I know, I know — it’s a cliffhanger hahah. Do you guys think this warrants a part 2? or is it best left hanging, because yknow, life is usually like that hahah anyways this was actually the first ever draft I’ve ever made that is Enhypen-related and somehow this was also the one that took the longest to finish, I was just never satisfied with it. But anyways, I digress, I hope you guys like this :3 my ask box is open if anyone would like to drop me some love or request hehe! (ps. click me if you wish to visit my masterlist )

#Enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypenwriters #enhypen sunghoon #Enhypen sunghoon imagines #Park sunghoon #Enhypen scenarios #enhypen fluff #kpop imagines #Sunghoon imagines #sunghoon scenarios #enhypen sunghoon scenarios #kpop scenarios #Enhypen x reader #enhypen x female reader

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buckys-black-dress · 3 years ago

Text

see through

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　��˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

a/n: i dont have much to say other than that it's 1 am and i needed to get this out of my system. chapter 4 of play the game is underway, i promise. also, there will be a pov switch in this fic!

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. = POV change!

wc: 4.1k words

[ neighbor!bucky barnes x fem!reader ]

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Every Friday night, without fail, you saw the light filter into your apartment.

Notice how you said night?

Yeah, it was almost two in the morning, by the way.

And why was there light coming through the chiffon curtains you had hanging on the rod above your window?

(Great choice on your part, by the way.)

Well, because of your neighbor.

You've seen him a few times, actually. Usually on the street outside your buildings, or just out and about. Never spoke to him, though. He was quiet, kept to himself. Didn't seem very friendly or willing to exchange a greeting if he ever saw you.

But you never took it personally. Maybe he was having a bad day. Every time you saw him.

But that's besides the point. The point right now is that you can see the lights blaring in your room. From the apartment across from yours.

Should it even be possible for light to travel that far? I mean, we don't even live in the same building. You think to yourself as you watch the colors dance in the dark.

You debate getting up and yelling out your window to tell him to shut that shit off or to invest in some blackout curtains. You were tired of sacrificing your sleep every week.

But then you decided against it, because you quite frankly could not be bothered to get up from the warmth of your bed. You'd tough it out for the night, but the next time you saw him, you'd have a few words for him.

The next morning, it was almost ten when you woke up. You didn't have your shift at the coffee shop you worked at until three, so you took your time in making your way out of bed.

You noticed the curtains of your neighbor's apartment were still open, but you could see his figure moving across the room. He was clearly on the phone with someone, and he didn't look too happy. You wondered what could have him so angry at such an early time of the morning. He seemed like a person who could use someone to talk to, someone who he could vent to.

But before you let your thoughts get ahead of you, you turn away from the window, heading back into your kitchen to eat breakfast and get ready for the long day ahead of you.

"Hi, what can I get started for you today?" You ask as brightly as you can muster at the moment. You were halfway through your shift, another three hours until close.

"Uh, just a large black coffee." The gruff voice says, and it takes you a second until you look up and look closely.

It was him.

"O-okay, that'll be $3.27." You say, and he hands you a five dollar note before grumbling,

"Keep the change."

"Thanks, and your name?"

He gives you a look that's asking, 'what the fuck do you need my name for?'

"For the order." You try and salvage your dignity, because it feels like the stare shrunk you to a speck of dust.

"James."

That's all he all but growls before turning back to find a seat.

As your coworker takes over the cash register, you grab the biggest cup and fill it with his desired coffee.

You try to not think about it too much, but the anxiety you feel rising up inside you and just calling his name to give him his coffee feels absolutely ridiculous.

"Are you just gonna stare at the cup or give it to the customer?" The voice of your coworker, Jenna, rings in your ears and you look up at her, snapping out of the trance you were in.

"Sorry, I'm just a little out of it today, I guess."

"Everything alright?" She asks, and you nod.

"I'm fine, it's just... that's my neighbor." You nod your head towards where James is sat, in the corner by the window as he watches the raindrops run down the expanse of the glass.

"The one who doesn't let you sleep?"

"Yeah, but I don't think he'd take it too kindly if I tell him about that. He seems to have a lot on his own plate anyways," You explain, and she just nods.

"Well, that sucks, but you still need ta' give the guy his coffee." Jenna smiles and walks back to what she was doing before.

You gently slide out from your spot behind the counter and walk to his table.

"Here's your coffee, James. Enjoy, and- uh, let me know if you'd like anything else." You tell him while placing the steaming cup in front of him.

He murmurs a thank you that you barely catch, but you don't quite have the time to sit and wait for more of a reaction.

For the next several hours, James sits right where he was. He doesn't do anything in particular, either. He just watches outside, as the rain continues to pelt down on New York City, and as people come and go from where they were.

Eventually, about an hour left until close, you offer another cup of coffee.

"Do you want a refill? On the house." You ask gently, waiting to see if you'll get brushed off again.

"Uh... are you allowed to do stuff like that?" He asks, and you're a bit taken aback at the sudden concern.

"I don't think you should worry yourself too much, James. Free coffee's free coffee." You smile lightly, and grab the cup before filling it up without his confirmation. You could tell he wanted to say yes but didn't want to seem rude.

"You didn't have to..." He grumbles, and you simply shake your head.

"I know, but you've been here a while, and what kind of employee would I be if I let a customer sit here without any sustenance?" Your lips ply into a tiny smirk, trying to get him to loosen up a bit.

He seems so guarded, defensive. Like any moment, he's ready to run if need be, you inspect to yourself.

"You'd just be a regular employee, Y/N." He says, but the way he says your name makes a shiver run down your spine; and you can't tell if it's a good or bad one.

You unconsciously look down at your name tag, pinned to your black apron that's branded with the café's logo.

"Well, I felt like being nice. I hope you can deal." Your voice comes out short, but he knows you mean no harm.

As you walk back to the counter, you see a small smile playing on his lips, but he doesn't allow it to manifest on his face. You take that as a small victory for your last hour of work.

(bucky's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

The girl who works at this café is annoying.

But she's got a nice smile. And she's nice to me, Bucky thinks to himself.

He sips on the new coffee you'd just poured for him, without his consent, he thinks bitterly.

But it was a nice gesture.

Why can't you just take a nice gesture?

Because your brain's been scrambled eggs for 70 years. You don't know what to think about anything these days.

He watches you fiddle with the espresso maker, cleaning it with a rag, which you then dip into a bucket.

You look extremely familiar to him, but he can't exactly pin where he's seen you before.

Bucky closes his eyes for a moment, trying to recall where he'd seen you, but for a moment, he comes up with nothing.

Ever since he's been living back in the real world, he hasn't been outside too much.

He goes on the occasional walk, or goes to the tower to see Steve and Sam.

But other than that, he spends a lot of time in his Brooklyn apartment. He watches movies that Steve suggests, or he invites Steve and Sam over to have beer and watch TV with him.

He hates how lonely it gets, though.

Bucky wishes that he had someone.

Someone who could understand.

And don't get him wrong, he loves Sam and Steve. They fill in the gaps in his days, and they make them better.

Sometimes, thinking about having something to do that day is what makes it. He likes having something to do, something to plan for for when his friends come over.

But it feels like a teeny, tiny part of his life is missing. A person shaped-hole in his heart.

But Bucky doesn't spend too long thinking about it, or it'll send him into a spiral about failure and how he needs to 'push himself to get out there more.'

Or that's what his therapist says.

"Hey, we're about to close, and we usually throw the pastries out at the end of the day. Do you wanna take these home, by any chance?" Your voice rings in his ears, snapping him out of the impending slippery slope of his lack of love life.

He hesitates to answer for a second, looking at the brown paper bag pinched between your fingers.

Bucky can tell you were nervous when you spoke to him. He knew he made you uneasy, and it killed him inside.

He hated that. He just wanted to have a normal conversation with someone. But everyone seems to know who he is.

Who he was.

"Uh, what is it?" He croaks, unsure of what to say at your gesture.

"It's a few cookies and a chocolate croissant."

"Sure, I'll take 'em." Bucky simply answers, watching as you hand the bag over with a soft smile and watches you walk back.

You sweep up the floor and put up all the chairs, except for the one Bucky's sitting on. You leave his table alone, and bid farewell to your coworker who was scheduled to close with you.

Bucky doesn't know what drives him to do it, but he gets up after he sees you walk out the door, and follows you home.

Damn, if you like a girl, you usually ask for her number or somethin'. Not follow her home to make sure she's safe, you idiot. Bucky's inner voice speaks and sometimes, he wishes it would just shut up because he knows he has no game nowadays, but this is all he knows to do.

He realizes the way you're walking is familiar, and not at all of the way he was supposed to be going. That made him feel a little better, less like a creep. He's about half a block behind you, and when you turn onto the same street he lives on, he's really confused.

Did you know he was behind you? Are you trying to play a trick on him?

But before Bucky can speak up or say something, you walk right past his building, and into the one right next to it.

All of a sudden, images of you right on the street in front of your buildings flash through his head. He's seen you because you're his neighbor. Bucky's seen you right there, getting ready to start your run through the neighborhood, or probably on your way to work, now that he's seen where you work.

But he feels like there's somewhere else he's seen you; somewhere familiar.

He shakes his head, wondering why he's so caught up in you. He thought you were beautiful, but he feels a pull to you that he's never felt with anyone else before.

Bucky's hands move to unlock his door, sliding the key in and twisting the lock open.

He enters, staring at his dark apartment. It's moments like this, when he spends a long day alone, that he wishes there was someone.

Someone to come home to, to hug, to kiss, to share dinner with.

Some to fall asleep with at night. Someone to keep the terrors of the dark away.

But there was no one.

And then his mind thought back to you. Your hair, your face, your warm hands that touched his while you passed him the brown paper bag of treats.

Bucky wishes he was man enough to ask you out. Not even that, just to talk to you. Have a normal conversation, to get to know you.

But that wasn't in the cards for him anytime soon, he thinks.

For now, he focuses on taking things one at a time. And right now, all he wanted was a nice, warm shower and to get at least three hours of sleep tonight.

He's in his room, forgoing the lights for now, before he looks out his window.

For a moment, he believes his eyes are playing tricks on him.

There's absolutely no way that you are standing right there, right outside his window.

Well, in your own apartment, of course.

And there's absolutely no way in hell that Bucky is watching you undress right now.

As soon as you pull off your top, Bucky turns around before he could get more than a peek of your black lace bra, and he feels a burn in the pit of his stomach.

He can't tell if it's shame, guilt, or arousal.

(y/n's pov).・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stop thinking about James all day.

After yesterday, you wondered why you couldn't shake this feeling about him.

He'd made it quite clear that he's not a people person. Or maybe he just wasn't a you person.

But again, you tried to not take things too personally these days.

Sometimes, you wondered, though, as you looked through your bedroom window to his some nights.

You imagined what it would be like, watching one of those movies with him at night. Making dinner with him. Having coffee in the mornings before work, wondering what he did for a living.

You chastise yourself for your thoughts, thinking that you were crazy for these ideas you were coming up with out of nowhere.

As you pull off your clothes to get ready for bed, you feel the same emptiness fill your heart when your head hits the pillow, and another day has gone by where you're all alone.

The next day, your shift was at ten in the morning so you were up early.

You took your time in rolling out of bed. The warmth of your duvet was holding you down, and you couldn't help take a peek out your window.

You see that the room facing yours is finally housing a body in the bed. In all the time you'd been living across him, you've only seen him on the floor.

You feel a warm flutter at that. Whatever reason led him to actually sleep in the bed last night was, you hope you played a role in it.

You make your way to the café, and although walking in the rain wasn't ideal, you made it, somehow.

You clock in and head to the register, ready to take the millions of orders that come in through the day.

"Hi- oh! Welcome back. What can I get you?" Your tone of voice made it clear you were surprised, but was trying to not let it show.

"Uhm, just the same as yesterday, and... Can I get a chocolate croissant?" Bucky's gruff voice tells you.

You ring him up, wondering if you should say something about him being your neighbor. Although, he didn't seem too keen on looking you in the eye right now, and you wonder if you did something to make him uncomfortable yet again.

He seems to have this issue quite often.

Little do you know, this time, it isn't because of you or anything you did.

Well, nothing you did on purpose.

Nothing you were aware of at the time.

Anyways, you tell James to go take a seat and that you'd be right out with his order.

"Here you go, James," you place the plate and mug on the table, and this time, when you hear him say something, you turn around with furrowed brows.

"Sorry, I didn't catch what you said." You apologize, waiting for him to repeat himself.

"I- nevermind, it was stupid anyways. You probably have to get back to work." He mumbles while looking back down at his pastry.

"James, whatever it is, you can tell me." You offer with a kind smile. "I can come sit with you during my break, if you don't mind?" A hopeful smile crosses your face.

"Uh, I- yes, yeah, that would be nice." He struggles for a moment, but finally nods his head in confirmation along with his words.

"Alright, James. I get off in an hour for my break." You simply tell him with a soft grin, and you can practically feel his eyes burning into you as you walk away.

The blush creeping up your cheeks also stays there until the remainder of your shift.

As you plop in the chair across from James, you inspect him for a moment.

He was attractive, you'll admit.

Okay, he was more than attractive.

"So, James, where are you from?" You ask, your own cup of coffee in front of you on the table.

"Well, I'm Brooklyn born 'nd raised. Never was a time I didn't live here. You?" His lip twitches, looking out the window fondly.

"That's nice. I moved here when I was nine, so I guess I've been here a while. But no matter where I go, there's nowhere like home." You smile.

"There really isn't, huh? This place is irreplaceable." He gives you a crack of another smile, and you find yourself yearning for more from him. Just a tooth, something.

"Well, do you live around here?" You ask, deciding to play coy. You wanted to see what he'd say.

"Uh, yeah, actually. Over on DeKalb and Clinton." He clears his throat, the hint of a smile on his face melting right off.

"Huh, that's so funny. I live on those streets too." You grin, waiting to see his reaction.

"O-Oh really?" James doesn't really know what to say without giving away that he knows where you fucking live.

"Yeah, isn't that funny? Which building?" You're pressing, and you know he knows, but you're having your fun right now.

"T-the uhm... I live in the Washington." He's now making zero eye contact with you, and you're close to breaking.

"What a coincidence! I live in the Oakley!" You're in a fit of giggles when his face drops, you just can't help it anymore.

"James, can I tell you something?" You ask in a coquettish manner.

"Yeah, I suppose you'll tell me even if I say no." He gives a tight smile as a joke.

"I don't wanna sound like a creep, but I knew you lived in the Washington."

"Oh," James releases a breath of relief, "thank God. I knew you lived in the Oakley, but I didn't wanna sound like a stalker either." He says.

You laugh, sliding a hand on top of his resting on the table.

"Y'know, you do this really annoying thing where you leave your movies running on full brightness on your TV, and I can see it through my windows at night." You laugh at the incredulity of the situation.

"Oh... I never even thought of that. I'm sorry, Y/N." He looks genuinely remorseful, and now you feel bad for any bad thought you've had about the man that lives across from you.

"It's alright. No big deal." Your smile does a good job of convincing Bucky that you truly weren't bothered by his actions, but he still felt bad.

"Y'know, maybe I could make it up to you?" He asks, and you feel a blush moving up your chest. "Like, maybe over dinner?" His voice is timid, you can tell by the way he tilts his head down while speaking.

"James," you slide your hand into his this time, your smaller one resting in his large metal one. "I'd love to go out with you sometime."

Before he could react, you stood up from the chair.

"My break's over, but I get off at 3." You lean down and pull a pen from your apron, scribbling your number onto a napkin. "Here."

You walk away before he could say anything, but there's something about him this time that you notice.

He's blushing, too. And he's smiling. A bright, white, blinding smile.

You think of that smile throughout your whole shift, until you see he's still waiting for you when it's time to go.

"So, do you like Chinese or Italian better?" He asks with a crooked smile.

bonus scene:

six months later

You and Bucky are laid across your bed, the TV blaring a movie that neither of you are paying attention to. Your head is resting on his shoulder, leg thrown over both of his, and his hand running through your hair.

"You wanna know somethin' doll?" Bucky asks, and you feel his chest rumble under your head.

"Yeah, everything okay?" You ask while leaning up on your elbow to get a good look at him, trying to gauge his mood.

"Everything's okay, just remembered something." He laughs, his hand moving to hold your jaw in it. You shivered at the touch, but smiled fondly at the action.

"When I first saw you at the coffee shop, that first day when you gave the free coffee and pastries... I followed you home."

Your brows furrow and it's clear that you were confused as to why.

"I wanted to make sure you got home safe, and then it turned out that you lived right next to me. So I went up to my apartment and wondered what I'd done right in a past life to have you live right next to me, and then I saw you lived right across from me." His face was tipped upwards, like he was replaying that night in his head.

"You followed me home just to make sure I was safe?" You asked in disbelief that he did something so nice for you, when at the time you thought he hated you.

"Of course, sweetheart. It was dark out and there 're some real jerks out there, y'know." One corner of his mouth lifts up in a soft smirk. "Didn't want anything to happen to ya."

You lean down and press a kiss to the corner of his mouth, appreciating his gesture.

"I really thought you didn't like me back then, so this is a nice little secret you've been hiding from me." You giggle when he pulls you back in for a real kiss.

"Yeah, well, I don't think I could'a hated you if I tried, baby. You're too sweet. And at the time, I was still getting used to being out in the open without being a national security threat." You both laugh lightly, dropping your head down.

A moment passes where you bask in his words, letting them soak in. And then a thought hits you, and you can't help but become more curious. Now you need to know the answer.

"Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, hon." Now Bucky's brows are pulled together, and you reach up and smooth out the wrinkle with your thumb.

"Did you ever... see me doing anything in here? Like, I usually keep the curtains open, and even if they're closed, they're pretty see-through..." You trail off, giving him time to craft his response.

You have a feeling you know the answer, considering how he turns red like a tomato in an instant as words leave your lips.

"I... there was this one time, but I swear, I wasn't trying to peep on you or anything, it was the same day I followed you and I just so happened to look into your window, and you were getting undressed, but I swear, I turned away as soon as I saw what you were doing, baby-" He was rambling, trying to save himself from sounding like a complete creep after all he's just told you.

"Did you like it?" You ask, innocently, but he knew what you were trying to do.

"I-I- You were getting undressed, sweetheart, of course I liked it... are you kidding me?" Bucky's grasping for the words, trying to make you understand.

"Well... we could always recreate it, but maybe in the same apartment this time?" You cock your head to the side, your doe eyes stirring a feeling in his abdomen.

"I think that's an excellent idea, honey." Bucky's hands grasp your waist as you slide on top of his lap. "After all, I am a hands on learner."

fin. i hope you enjoyed!

#bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky imagine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes reader insert #neighbor!bucky #bucky barnes au

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letmewriteinpeace · 3 years ago

Text

"Return of the.. Kid?" || FNaF:SB Future AU

Title: “Return of the.. Kid?” Characters: R!Future!Gregory, CG!Freddy, Monty, Chica, Roxanne Genera: Agere, Fluff, Slight-angst, Hurt-And-Comfort, AU(Future/Engineer Gregory AU) Warning: Angst, First-time regression(?), Cursing(its not too bad and like, 1 word) Extra Notes: All platonic, I aged Gregory up to 19 so it’d go with the plot, not to ship or whatever. If you think about it like that, please don’t interact with this and block me. Also, this is after a peaceful yet non-canon ending. Gregory leaves at 6am, but Vanny doesn’t go after him and he just continues his life. There is a prologue, if you wish to skip it, look after the second time skip or the second “<--->” and the regression has started and things are fluffy with only slight angst.

[edited:] Word count: 2,126 Character Count: 11,996 [unedited:] Word count: 2,130 Character Count: 12,028

Gregory sighed as he walked into the Pizzaplex, eyes glazed over with sleep. It had been a decent 8 years since he'd been stuck in this place, and he decided to work there. Not the best decision, that much was obvious, but he needed pay and this was the only place that would hire him with their floor-level standards. Going back to the streets was out of the question, and with him having a rough past in school, getting any job that'd hold an apartment in this world that'd pay for that and accept him was nearly impossible.

He walked over to the desk, a woman that didn't look too much older than him stood behind it, scrolling on her phone. "Excuse me?" His voice was rough, laced with the neutral exhaustion he was filled with. "Hello and Welcome to Freddy Fazbea- Oh, it's you! You're the new employee," She looked up at him, her gloomy expression becoming more of a relieved happiness."Uh, yeah. Name's Gregory," He smiled slightly at her, looking slightly unsure. "Nice to meet you Gregory, I'm Sophie but you can call me Soph."

She seemed happy he was here. Too happy. Though, he couldn't be surprised. This place was hell, and he wasn't even a worker in his experience. "You're the new engineer, right?" Sophie had set her phone down. "Uh, yeah, I am." She started to walk around the desk. "Well, I'll show you where you can keep your stuff and a small little tour while we're at it!" He nodded and followed her as she began to show him around the Pizzaplex. After the tour, Gregory was tired and there wasn't really much he had to do in parts and services so, he just drifted off to sleep.

<--->

Gregory stirred slightly, hearing something or someone talking quite loudly around him. With a soft groan, he opened his eyes slightly and practically jumped out of his skin at what he saw. There were the main four, repaired with slight changes, standing about 10ft. in front of him - talking about him without noticing he was awake. He pressed himself against the wall.

His eyes were narrowed as he internally shouted at himself for falling asleep. They haven't noticed him being awake, so maybe, just maybe, he could sneak out of the room and try to go out through a backdoor. He was not having any type of redo happen, no way. Careful not to make any noise, Gregory slowly stood.

He started to walk away quietly, but he couldn't get far as Freddy saw him and smiled. "Oh, Hello Gregory! I apologize for not noticing you earlier." The others turned to him while Gregory was slightly frozen. He didn't want a redo, and he would avoid it. Freddy began walking over, and Gregory was debating whether to make a run for it or not. What happened those 8 years ago didn't leave him, and it honestly would never. Maybe he shouldn't have gotten this job, maybe he should've applied somewhere else. Like a cheap fast food place or crappy supermarket.

He did miss Freddy though in those years, but the others he didn't miss. He decided to make a run for it. Sure, Freddy was there, but the others were too. He wasn't gonna risk getting jumpscared or worse. He ran away and towards the tunnels, hearing Freddy call after him and 4 sets of heavy foot prints chasing after him. He didn't look back, nor could he. He turned several corners, he was pretty much lost but he couldn't stop running.

There was an unfamiliar fuzziness growing in his mind that made it hard to focus, or even think straight. He just wanted comfort and care right now, just to be held and comforted and he knew he couldn't get it, he felt childish for wanting it, but the thought of him not getting it almost made him want to cry. This was confusing, everything felt like it was getting bigger as the fuzziness grew and it was slowly becoming overwhelming, which only made the fuzziness grow. He heard someone coming closer, but it seemed to only be two(2) of them instead of all four(4).

Gregory decided to take a chance and look back, which was a mistake as it only panicked him more. Chica and Monty were right behind him, though they looked sympathetic and Chica seemed to be calling out at him to stop. The fuzziness was practically swallowing his mind now, the urge to cry being overwhelming and confusing. He was an adult now dammit! But, he didn't feel like one really. He felt.. smaller, younger than he actually was. He attempted to run faster but ran into something - more of someone - which held him to their chest. Then, the flood gates opened.

Gregory went into tears and he struggled to get away from whoever this was. It was just Freddy, but he was unaware of his surroundings - which includes the gentle words that Freddy was murmuring to him and the confused talking of the other animatronics about his behavior. "Sorry! 'M sorry! Leave! Will leave!" Gregory shook his head violently, the odd fuzz becoming the least of his worries. Why was he acting like this? Why did he feel like this? It was so.. strange, different. The hot tears were the only thing keeping him from settling into the oddly comforting desire to let the fuzz take over.

"Gregory, we only wish to speak to you," Freddy sounded worried, though understanding. Chica looked slightly sympathetic, while Roxy and Monty were looking at each other while being equally confused. "You do not have to leave, I promise you." Gregory's heavy breathing was calming, and he began to relax in Freddy's hold. "There we go," Freddy seemed to sigh, "You are alright now, nothing can harm you." At those words, Gregory looked at the other three(3) with some suspicion and fear, though he looked away just as quickly. His face was hidden against Freddy's chest. He now stood only a "little" shorter than Freddy, well, more of Freddy was a little less than a foot taller than him standing at 6'7.

Roxy's expression flashed with guilt, but it was quickly hidden with a neutral expression. Chica, however, didn't hide her guilt while Monty didn't show if he felt guilty or not. Freddy knew all his friends felt guilty about what had happened all those years ago, but Gregory didn't. It's why they wanted to talk to him but it seemed like now wasn't the time to talk about anything this serious. They could later, when they figured out what was happening and things calmed down completely.

Gregory lifted his arms slightly, looking at Freddy with a pleading look. He didn't know why he did it, but he wasn't going to question it. His legs were tired from all the running and being chased anyways. Freddy looked at Gregory confused, unsure of what he wanted to which Gregory simply emphasized by throwing his hands up again. Monty rolled his eyes, "Words, use your words. We can't read ya' mind." Gregory just shot a look at Monty, before looking at Freddy again and mumbling "Up."

Freddy smiled slightly - or so it seemed - and complied, picking Gregory up and resting him on his hip. "What's up with him? He wasn't like this before," Monty sounded more confused than criticizing. "I am unsure, we may have to look it up." Freddy looked at Gregory worriedly as Gregory was zoned out with his head on Freddy's shoulder, nibbling his thumb absent-mindedly with too many thoughts behind his eyes about who knows what.

Chica nodded, her eyes going distant as she searched their limited internet access for answers. Roxy was looking at Gregory as if she knew something, her arms crossed as she seemed to be studying him. "Roxy? Are you alright?" Freddy looked towards his wolf friend, with a confused look on his face. "I know what's happening," She stated simply and Monty looked at her questioningly. "Really? Then tell us!" He yelled. Chica blinked as she evidently stopped searching. "I found something as well." And so, they explained to Monty and Freddy.

<--->

Gregory had fallen asleep during the explanation and they had moved to Freddy's room, all of the animtronics talking quietly. Monty was sitting on the arm rest of the couch, while Chica and Freddy sat on it, Gregory resting on Freddy's chest, and Roxy was on the table. Gregory woke up, still feeling fuzzy, and rubbed his eye messily. Monty was the first to notice, "Aye, the hatchling's awake." The conversation they were having stopped as they greeted him. Freddy patted his head as Chica smiled softly at him, "Hey little one."

Gregory sat up confused, looking at the others to see Chica smiling kindly at him, Roxy leading back on the table while using her arms as support while having a neutral expression. Monty was just looking at him, then giving him a toothy smile. He then looked over at Freddy, who was also smiling at him much like Chica was. "How was your nap Superstar?" The fuzziness grew at the nickname, before he nodded softly. "'Was good." He climbed off Freddy's lap to explore, or simply leave the room do something he'd find out later.

Right before he reached the door, he was scooped up by Monty who turned him around to face him before holding him. "Not today Little guy, you're not going anywhere." Gregory huffed and pouted, which caused Roxy to chuckle. "Still a little troublemaker." Freddy sighed with a soft smile, "Mhm." Gregory layed his head on Monty's shoulder after sticking his tongue out at him playfully, earning him a soft, playful scoff in return. Gregory giggled softly, feeling too small to really care about the past experiences he had with the animatronics which honestly relieved Roxy.

Roxanne had always felt guilty about what happened, more so than the others. She didn't like to think about it too often, so she wouldn't. "Little Cub over there doesn't seem too happy with you 'Gator." She teased, looking back at Monty. Chica giggled, "He really doesn't." Roxy stood up, going over to Monty and ruffling Gregory's hair. "He's so mean for not letting you explore, hm?" Gregory nodded as he turned his head to see Roxy, cheeks slightly puffed. Chica was right next to Roxy, Freddy walking over, "Someone's grumpy."

Freddy smiled softly as when he came into sight, Gregory reached for him. Monty just handed him over to Freddy, laughing a bit. "Someone likes their papa bear." Gregory just nodded, not making any sort of disagreement as he cuddled into Freddy. "How old are you feeling, Superstar?" Freddy went back to the couch, and the others left the room as Freddy distracted Gregory. He sat down with Gregory in his lap. Gregory had grabbed a plush and played with it after shrugging at the asked question. Freddy just let him play for a bit after gently setting him on the floor.

Gregory played for a bit, before he began to get tired. Yawning, he continued to lazily play with the toys, dozing off despite his desprate attempt not to sleep. Freddy smiled slightly, he'd expected it. It was currently 2:30 in the morning, and though he'd expected it earlier, he knew it'd happen eventually. He picked up Gregory off the floor, who let out a disapproving whine as he did so. "I can tell your tired Cub, you need to get some sleep." Gregory didn't take that too kindly, "No I don', wan'a stay up longer 'n' p'ay.."

Freddy shook his head softly, "You can play in the morning, right now, it's bedtime." Gregory pouted a bit as Freddy lied him down on the couch, covering him up with a blanket and his plush. "Goodnight Superstar, we'll have plenty of time to play in the morning." Gregory turned over to face away from Freddy and promptly fell asleep. The others came into the room, carrying some stuff they found in the daycare for Gregory to play with and to help them take care of him properly but Freddy shushed them before they could speak and pointed to the sleeping Gregory.

Chica seemed a little defeated that they went all the way to the daycare for nothing, while Roxy and Monty seemed content as they all set the things down in the corner of the room. When it happens again and they need to take care of the cub, they have the stuff to do so. And even though they still needed to talk to Gregory, it could wait. His rest and well being was more important than that by a long shot.

___

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butterflyyeo · 3 years ago

Text

jealous

pairing — han jisung x reader

genre — angst (?)

tw — slightly suggestive (?)

wc — 3035

a/n — yall idk wtf this is im trying my best to get better at writing angsty (???) stuff so im really sorry if this is absolute trash T^T. feedback is appreciated !!

———————————

you hadn't seen your brother, chan, for a long time, six months to be exact and of course you missed him dearly. when he called to tell you that he was coming home for a while you nearly cried of joy, however, the happiness faded when he mentioned that he'd be bringing his band mates, that meant changbin... and han jisung.

it wasn't exactly a secret that you didn't get along with jisung, and you never knew why. he always just irked you a bit, and on purpose too. it was constant bickering between the two of you, fortunately, chan and changbin had learnt to tolerate it. speaking of changbin, you actually quite liked him and he was rather fond of you too. chan knew this, in fact, chan saw all the underlying tension between you and the rest of 3racha. he was thankful that he was your brother, but he didn't have to intervene, he was fully aware that you could handle these things on your own. unless of course you asked for help, and in that case, he would go to war for you.

a sturdy knock hit the door a few times and you ran to the door, unlocking it.

"channie!!" you leaped onto him and hugged him tightly. he dropped his bags down to the floor just so he could hug you back. "i've missed you so much!" you said as you hopped down and picked up both of his bags.

he grinned, "i've missed you too, y/n."

your smile dropped almost instantly as you saw jisung leaning against the doorway, a smirk across his face that just made you want to slap him. faking a smile, you greeted changbin, "hey changbin! good to see you." he gave you a sincere nod and smile before picking up his suitcase. "now chan, shall i put these in the guest room?" you asked, chan was already going through the fridge, looking for food.

"mm." he mumbled. you took it as a yes and heaved his bags to the guest room, dumping them beside the bed. as you turned around to help changbin with his luggage, someone blocked your way.

"you didn't say hello to me?" jisung questioned, though, it sounded more like a statement.

huffing, you responded, "why would i?"

"because you love me," he said as he leaned in close. "and you missed me."

"you must be confused." you shrugged and pushed past him. that was too close for comfort. you thought as you walked out and picked up changbin's last bag.

"hey y/n," chan began, "what's for dinner?"

you sighed, "i'm gonna have to go shopping chan, i don't have enough food for all of you." you went to put your shoes on and a jacket too, since it was getting late and more chilly outside. "who wants to chauffeur me to the grocery store?" you joked.

"anything for you, my love." jisung said teasingly as he held his hand out to you.

"uh, i'd rather not." you swatted his hand away. "c'mon changbin, let's go!" you said while dragging changbin up from the sofa. he groaned, but honestly he didn't mind so much. he was just being a big baby.

the car trip was short and quiet, mainly because changbin was tired from all the travelling they had done to get to your house. plus, their schedule has been so full lately, they were lucky to have this time off.

wandering through isles, you began picking up ingredients and placing them intro a trolley.

"you really missed us?" changbin began, "me and chan of course..." he trailed off but a playful smile tugged at his lips.

"of course i am! jisung on the other hand..." you rolled your eyes, pushing the trolley along.

he chucked, "you really still hate each other? after all these years?"

you huffed, a little too obnoxiously, "yes. i do still hate him. and i'm sure he despises me too. i don't even know what it is... it's just... the way he treats me. he acts like he deserves my friendship, which he doesn't. it's something you earn."

"remind me to never piss you off." changbin laughed as he put a bag of chips in the trolley.

once you had everything you needed you put it through the register, changbin insisted he paid, since you were letting the three of them live with you.

shortly after you arrived home, you began cooking. while he wasn't the best, changbin offered to help as best he could. you actually thought it was really sweet. he passed you utensils, condiments and he even set the table.

meanwhile, chan was fast asleep in the guest room and jisung was showering in the provided ensuite. you turned to changbin and high fived him, "we're all done! i should wake up chan. you can start eating if you want." proud of his efforts, changbin sat down and began to eat.

gently pressing the door open to the guest room, you whispered, "chan? dinner is ready." you walked over to him and was about to softly shake him when jisung walked out of the bathroom, only a towel around his waist. his tousled wet hair dripped little drops of water down his chest and it was rather overwhelming to see him so exposed.

contrary to your thoughts, he couldn't care less, he enjoyed watching the way you panicked and blushed heavily. if this is what it takes. he thought.

"oh! um, jisung. i'm so sorry, i was just coming to tell chan that dinner is ready, i should've knocked or-" you blurted out in a quiet voice, weary of chan waking up.

jisung let out a low chuckle, "it's fine, y/n. i'll wake him up once i've dressed."

"thanks," you said as you went to leave, "wait... no snarky comment?" you puzzled.

he said nothing, just winked at you as you closed the door.

you joined changbin at the dinner table, sitting across from him. "how's the food?" you asked as you took a bite for yourself.

"y/n it's amazing! you're seriously a great cook. man, i wish i was this good." he said as he took a small bite of the spaghetti you had prepared.

at that moment, chan dawdled out the door and jisung closely behind. they joined you at the table and also began eating.

"don't worry about it binnie, i can teach you to cook, years of living on my own without chan seems to have payed off a bit." you joked.

"binnie?" jisung questioned the nickname you had given to changbin, whilst changbin sat there furiously blushing. he tried to hide it by lowering his head but that honestly seemed it give it away more.

"sounds cute." you shrugged, not thinking much of it.

chan cleared his throat, "okay so here's the plan for tomorrow," he began, taking another bite of spaghetti, "changbin and i have to go talk to JYP about an upcoming show we are doing, so we could be gone all day with that. there's lots to plan."

"wait a second, why am i not going? i'm apart of 3racha too." jisung stated.

changbin replied, "did you get the email from him?"

jisung shook his head, "well, no but-"

"then you're not coming." changbin grinned cheekily, knowing this upset jisung.

when everyone had finished with their meal, changbin stood up and collected all the dirty dishes, only to begin washing them in the sink. you quickly tried to stop him, "oh, changbin! don't worry i can do that." you said as you tried to take over, but he refused.

"no. you won't. dinner was great! you've done enough for today, if we are gonna be living here for the next few weeks then i might as well be of some use." he smiled at you before nodding to the tv, signalling for you to relax.

tired as ever, chan come over and kissed your head goodnight before going back to sleep. by now it was nearly 10pm, you had a late dinner but that was because they arrived later than expected.

you sat down on the sofa and began browsing movies. you decided to watch your favourite, even though you've seen it a million times. once he was finished with the dishes, changbin joined you on the sofa to watch the movie, you quickly filled him in on all the little details of the plot.

jisung was still sitting at the dinner table, scrolling through his phone, he was contemplating coming to join the two of you in watching the movie, but decided against it when he saw changbin put his arm around you. rolling his eyes and scoffing a little too loud, jisung stood up and went to the guest room he was sharing with chan. he tried his best not to slam the door but somehow that didn't happen.

"huh, wonder what's up with him?" changbin asked, looking at the door wide eyed. "i'll go check, sorry, i'll be back in a sec." he followed jisung into the guest room, you heard changbin quietly ask if he was okay.

what started as a whispered discussion soon became a hushed argument, you were worried that soon they would start yelling at each other. luckily chan was a deep sleeper, he also slept with earphones in, so you were pretty sure he wouldn't hear any of it.

the minutes passed and their quarreling continued, you debated going in there to try and make some peace but you decided against it, this seemed to be something personal between the two of them. instead, you switched off the tv and the lights, and went got ready for bed. as you were about to close your eyes you heard the jingle of keys and the sound of the door opening and closing. whoever it was, you knew they could take care of themselves, they were both adults and probably just needed some space.

when you woke up, it was around 7am. you quickly threw a hoodie on over your shirt, feeling a bit cold and walked into the living space to see changbin, sleeping softly on the sofa. it only just occurred to you that there wasn't enough beds for all of you in your current living situation.

you gently peeked into chan's room to see him sprawled out, sleeping a deep sleep. you smiled to yourself, knowing that he got all the sleep he deserved. the empty bed in the room didn't go unnoticed however.

it was jisung who left last night. and he didn't seem to be back yet.

slightly worried, you decided to cook up some bacon and eggs for when the boys woke up.

"morning y/n." you turned around to see changbin leaning against the kitchen counter.

you smiled, "morning! sorry if i woke you up, i'm just making some breakfast, you've probably got time to shower if you want to before you eat."

"serious? man, what did we do to deserve you?" changbin said looking at you sincerely.

you laughed lightly, "nothing, now go! and please wake chan up when you get out."

he just chuckled as he walked away and closed the guest room door behind him. you wondered if you should make enough breakfast for jisung, would he be back soon? if he wasn't, he could just re-heat it, you thought.

the last few pieces of bacon finished cooking so you begin buttering the toast, you made a lot knowing that chan has a big appetite and there was a good chance they wouldn't have time to eat today. your train of thought was interrupted once again by changbin.

"anything i can do to help?" he asked, he was dressed quite smartly, but you understood as he was going to console with JYP himself.

"nope! i'm just about done, plus, you wouldn't want to dirty your clothes," you said as you began serving breakfast.

"ah okay, i woke chan up, he wanted to have a shower so he shouldn't be too much longer." he said, "can i?" he asked, pointing to one of the cups of steaming hot coffee you set on the counter.

"of course!" you said. a question burned in the back of your mind and you wondered if you should ask or not. "uh, changbin..." you began.

changbin knew exactly what you were about to say, "he's okay, y/n. he just wanted some space." his eyes stared at the wall blankly. there was more to this than needing space.

"so.. why was he upset then? you guys had a pretty heated argument.."

changbin's eyes met yours, "i'm sorry you had to hear that." he took a sip of coffee, "we just had a bit of a disagreement, it happens all the time... you see, the thing is-"

"good morning to my favourite people!" chan said as he waltzed out of the guest room, also looking rather sharp.

you and changbin smiled at his enthusiasm, "morning!" the two of you chimed back.

"breakfast made? hot coffee? you seriously are the best sister in the world! it's like we're staying at a five star hotel." chan said picking up a mug of coffee.

you laughed, "i'm your only sister."

he shrugged, "still the best," he took a sip and hummed, looking around the room, "hey, where's jisung?"

"i don't know. i heard him leave last night." you said, placing two plates of food at the dinner table.

chan sent a red hot glare at changbin, knowing exactly why jisung would've stormed out. changbin looked away sheepishly.

"okay, well, breakfast is ready! eat up, you guys have a busy day." you said sitting down in front of a plate.

chan and changbin began discussing things for later with JYP, while you just sat their mindlessly eating your breakfast. you still couldn't help but wonder where jisung had went, and why he wasn't back yet.

you had completely zoned out and was just picking at the scraps of your plate when chan spoke, "well that was seriously great y/n! what a good way to start the day."

you smiled at your brother, "ah, it's the least i can do, maybe you could ask JYP if you can dedicate a song to me in return."

the three of you laughed and you began to clear up the plates while the boys finished getting ready. shortly after, they said their goodbyes and closed the front door behind them. although the door muffled his voice, you heard chan say to changbin, "you seriously fought over that again?"

you sighed to yourself, what were you going to do all day? you decided to finish cleaning up and have a shower.

you let the water run until it was warm before stepping in, you had to remember to be mindful because you often got carried away and distracted in the shower and lost track of time.

which is, exactly what happened, before you knew it you had been half an hour. shit, you thought. as you wrapped a towel around your body, you remembered jisung and how you saw a little too much of him after he showered. you blushed furiously just remembering it. that's when you realised that your feelings for changbin were just a deflection of the feelings you have for jisung. you're ridiculous, you thought. he hates you, despises you, enjoys making fun of you. you quickly ruled out the possibility of him ever returning the feeling and finished dressing.

you spent the day multitasking some of your studies while watching movie after movie, trying to be somewhat productive. your stomach suddenly growled and you checked the time, "must be time for lun-" you said aloud, "oh, it's 5pm." you laughed at your silly sense of time and how you had got carried away all day. but you soon frowned, 5pm and jisung still wasn't back?

since the boys weren't home you made yourself a light meal and sat at the dinner table alone, listening to some background music. it was actually quite relaxing. the evening golden sun shone through the window as you finished eating. you quickly began washing up your plate, when you heard the door creak open.

"oh, chan you're home! i just finished eating, but i can make something for you and changbin just give me a min-" but when you turned around to greet them, it wasn't chan or changbin. it was jisung. "jisung."

"are you gonna admit that you missed me this time? or do i have to leave for longer?" he smirked but you just sighed in relief. you hated to confess that you worried you wouldn't hear his stupid comments for a long while.

you spoke quietly, "of course i missed you. i was worried sick."

"oh? worried now?" he toyed.

"yes, worried! i heard you arguing with changbin and then you left!" you exclaimed.

his face turned away at the mention of changbin's name, "well sometimes changbin and i argue, it's normal."

you scoffed, "that's what he said."

"he told you?" jisung asked.

"no, he didn't tell me what you fought about, but it would seem that it isn't the first time because i heard chan scolding him after they left this morning." you admitted.

"they're not back?"

you shook your head, "nope," jisung looked away, "look, i just had dinner but is there anything you want?"

"yeah." he began.

"what would you like?" you asked.

"you." jisung said bluntly, catching you off guard. "and changbin wants you too."

it all made sense now. "oh, i, i see.." you said, quite taken aback. "jisung, it could ruin everything, we'd be playing with fire."

"i don't care, y/n." he said taking a few steps closer.

"but, chan is my brother." you said.

"he's my best friend." jisung countered, coming closer again.

"what about changbin?" you asked.

"he's also my best friend." at this point, jisung was standing face to face with you.

"hang on a second," you took a step back, hitting the counter, "i don't owe you anything." you whispered, pressing a finger to his lips.

he smirked, "but i owe you everything."

#han jisung x reader #han jisung #han #stray kids han #stray kids scenarios #han jisung angst #han angst #stray kids imagines #han jisung fluff #han jisung scenarios

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jangofctts · 4 years ago

Text

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA

It's curious.

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is.

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos.

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

And yes, you tried to slip by for this one.

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye.

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?"

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but—

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut.

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit."

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?"

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information.

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.”

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.”

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.”

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting.

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.”

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height.

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces.

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed."

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder.

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well.

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me."

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts.

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this?

This is too good.

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions."

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that."

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride.

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest.

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you."

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.”

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left.

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet.

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss.

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this.

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything.

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin.

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water.

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this?

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—”

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name.

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.”

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it.

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.”

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones.

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate.

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part.

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.”

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.”

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away.

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit.

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly—

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands.

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here.

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.”

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch.

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him.

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.”

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages.

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin.

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you.

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever.

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

#we out here #yeehaw #my writing #captain rex x reader #captain rex x you #ct-7567 #captai rex #clone x reader #clone trooper x reader #the clone wars #tcw #anakin skywalker #obi wan kenobi #star wars #sw

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absolutepokemontrash · 4 years ago

Text

MC’s Half Demon and They Look Awfully Familiar

(Part 3! Starring Mini Mammon and Mini Asmo!)

Part 1 Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Underground Tomb special Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Part 4

MC names:

Lucifer’s kid=L!MC | Mammon’s kid=M!MC | Asmo’s kid=A!MC

Why did bad things happen to good people? Well... Lucifer being a good person is up to interpretation. He hadn’t done anything too heinous recently, his instruments of torture were collecting dust for goodness sake! So why oh why was he staring down two half demon children who looked suspiciously like two of his brothers?

The first kid to step forward was Mammon’s without a doubt, but their general demeanour was very different from their father’s. Perhaps their other parent had done a good job-

“What the fuck was that?!”

Never mind. The kid had Mammon’s pottymouth.

The other child surveyed the scene with a nervousness that their suspected parent never possessed. The kid’s gaze fell on Lucifer, their eyes began to glow ever so slightly. “Uh-um...” the kid cleared their throat. “Someone explain what’s going on!”

Was this child seriously trying to use manipulation powers on Lucifer? He almost laughed at the mere idea of someone trying. The child didn’t even seem to be aware that they were doing it. When their question was met with blank stares, they instantly shrank back and practically hid behind the first half demon. Despite the severe self-esteem difference, this kid was Asmodeus’.

Lucifer’s own child cleared their throat and smiled. “Welcome to the Devildom!”

The Uncle That Looks Like he Has his Shit Together but he Leaves the Reunion Drunk off his Rocker (Lucifer)

Ah shit here we go again-

Okay- okay. Normally he’d scold L!MC for taking Diavolo’s line, but Dia had recovered from his shock and was now gushing over the new exchange students like an excited puppy.

“Okay... L!MC you’re going to need to share your room.”

“What?! Why?!”

“Unless Belphie is willing to give up the attic as a nap spot-”

“OVER MY DEAD BODY!”

“You’re sharing your room.”

RAD was buzzing with gossip for the entire first month of the second attempt at the exchange program. The threats of being eaten were once again stamped out very quickly.

(Special thanks to L!MC for being a good bodyguard)

Now, Lucifer didn’t exactly know what to expect when it came to the child of his favourite brother. Mammon was a dumbass, but this kid... this kid...

Was smart.

For the first time in Lucifer’s very long life he felt compelled to place someone in a higher echelon than himself.

Mammon’s child managed to successfully budget that dumpster fire of a house. On the first fucking day. Not only that. This kid managed to skim FIVE THOUSAND GRIMM OFF THE TOP AND THE BUDGET STILL WORKED! WHAT KIND OF BULLSHIT-

Lucifer and Mammon thanked whatever spirit was watching over them because they truly believed their financial woes were over.

Shame that M!MC also spent their money on dumb stuff they didn’t need. Like father like child.

It’s no secret that Lucifer does have a bit of a soft spot for Asmo, I mean, who doesn’t love Asmo? But A!MC was a blessing sent right from the Celestial Realm.

They were just... too sweet. Way too sweet. Lucifer was actively getting cavities just being near them.

Anyone who bothered A!MC and M!MC during the first month ended up getting... uh... suspended.

(We can assume the threat of suspension would have extended to those who bothered L!MC but all the lesser demons were already terrified of them.)

Normally when Lucifer called someone into his study it was to lecture them for at least four hours and then send them to their rooms, but he was having quite the difficult time actually being upset with M!MC and A!MC.

A!MC looked close to tears and M!MC just stared right back at Lucifer with little to no fear in their eyes.

“Starting a fight during the first week of school is not how I expected the exchange students to behave.” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose, and prepared to continue the lecture, when he heard a sniffle. There wasn’t enough Demonus in the entire Devildom...

“I-I’m s—sorry...” A!MC sniffled, quickly wiping at their eyes. “Th-they were being r-really scary and we did-didn’t know what else to do...”

“So you threw them out of a window?”

“I threw them out of the window.” M!MC huffed. “They were bein’ a dick.”

“So you threw them out of a window?”

“That um...” A!MC mumbled. “That’s not all... I may have... told them to stick their head in a toilet first...”

“You made them stick their head in a toilet,” Lucifer turned to M!MC. “And then you threw them out of a window?”

“Yes.” M!MC and A!MC replied. Lucifer downed the rest of his glass of Demonus and debated whether or not it would be a show of weakness to slam his forehead into the desk in front of the children.

Lucifer looked between the two for a moment, then shook his head and sighed. “It’s my job to deal with threats to the exchange students, not yours.” Lucifer stood in front of the two, he rested his hands on their heads and gave them a quick pat, before knocking their heads together. “Next time someone bothers you, tell me. If I hear even a whisper of you two getting into another fight, I’m hanging you from the ceiling. Is that clear?”

A!MC and M!MC looked at each other, then back at Lucifer and nodded. “Yes sir!”

“Good.” Lucifer removed his hand from their heads. “Now shoo.”

Flying lessons for the two of them went way quicker than it did for L!MC, mainly because L!MC was a way better teacher.

As much as Lucifer loved his newly found niblings, he couldn’t show it too much. Outward softness was reserved for L!MC and L!MC only. M!MC and A!MC were stuck with silent acts of affection.

Every once and a while a little present or two would end up in M!MC or A!MC’s possession. Some ice cream money for M!MC when they blew their part of the budget on fancy sunglasses, a multiplayer video game that the three half-demons could play together, new shoes when A!MC accidentally ruined their’s...

He’s a good uncle. A scary uncle. But a good uncle. ^_^

(Don’t tell him I said that, I’m still in trouble for advertising Mammon’s escape Go Fund Me and I don’t want to have to write the rest of this HC hanging upside down.)

He’s Not Like the Other Dads, he’s a Cool Dad! (Mammon)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (Fear)

He’s a dad?! HE’S TO YOUNG TO BE A DAD! Hang on- he’s over five thousand years old...

Oh would you look at that! His kid pulled out a calculator.

...his annual income? Uh... why do you- HEY! WHAT’S WITH THAT FACE?!

M!MC puffed out their cheek as they continued to add the ever growing list of numbers into the calculator. Mammon was trying to get a peak at what they were calculating. M!MC suddenly looked up and practically lit up the room with their smile. Aw, their fangs were growing in!

They had a devilishly charming smile, just like their pop! A real chip off the old block! It almost brought a tear to Mammon’s eye and he actually felt compelled to give this kid all the money he had on him. Maybe even his Rolex too!

“Mammon, Avatar of Greed,” M!MC said sweetly. “My... dad.”

“Yep! That’s uh... that’s me!” Mammon awkwardly ruffled his kid’s hair, the kid laughed good naturedly.

M!MC’s sweet as honey smile flipped from elated to malicious in a manner of nanoseconds. “You owe over thirteen years of child support. Dad.”

Everyone say thank you to Lucifer and Diavolo for getting M!MC to compromise and not try and sue their father.

If you thought Mammon spoiled L!MC you’ve got another thing coming. Mammon’s wallet never stood a chance against his kid.

Poor Goldie, press F to pay respects.

Mammon also tried to teach A!MC and M!MC to drive, M!MC has no regard for their safety, the safety of others, or the laws of the road, buuuuuuuut they manage to get the car back with no dents and no property damage bills are being delivered to the house sooooo...

A!MC can drive fine... it’s just that they adhere to literally every law known to demonkind, which means neither Mammon or Asmo are allowed to open up the sunroof and do that movie thing where they pop their heads out and yell something. ITS NOT SAFE!

Our beloved dummy also tried to teach his kid how to play poker, with... limited success.

“Aw, come on kiddo.” Mammon smirked, flicking his kid on the nose. “Your poker face is awful, I can also see your cards from here.”

M!MC growled and held their cards closer to their face. “My poker face is fine!” It was in fact, not fine.

Mammon scratched his head and thought for a moment. Was he sure that this kid was his? I mean, they weren’t good at poker, had terrible luck in blackjack and roulette, and could barely understand the rules of craps. Craps! While he was lamenting the loss of possible gambling winnings, an idea hit Mammon at a thousand miles an hour.

“Hey kid, you’re damn good at math like your great and amazin’ father, have you ever thought about learnin’ how to count cards?”

Fancy outfits on, hair done (sorta), car ready, the two were off to the casino after quite the intense training montage. It appeared that casinos in the Devildom allowed children inside... Diavolo should really fix that.

“Okay M!MC, you remember what to do, right?”

“Yes. Remember the signal, and if someone catches on, deny deny deny.”

Mammon gave his kid a slap on the back. “Damn straight! You got this, bud.”

As the night dragged on, M!MC and Mammon had made their weight in money, paper money, they had made a SHIT ton is what I’m saying. Tragically, neither the Avatar of Greed or his child had any sense to leave before their luck crashed like the Stock Market in 1929.

They were both Icarus, and they were playing chicken with the sun... and by 3 am they were also playing chicken with security.

“GO GO GO!” Mammon shouted as he and M!MC sprinted towards the car, the night’s winnings in hand.

“I think I lost a shoe!” M!MC gasped as they scrambled into the car, security on their heels.

“I’ll buy you new shoes JUST PUT ON YOUR SEATBELT!”

Re-enacting every Fast and the Furious movie in twenty minutes was how that lovely night of father/child bonding should have ended... until they got home and realized they were locked out.

“The window to my room!” M!MC whispered, pointing up at their window. “It’s usually unlocked, we can climb up to get to it.”

“Good idea!”

M!MC tucked the bag full of their precious money under their arm and began the climb to their window, their father close behind. They had almost made it, they were so close, M!MC could literally touch the window-

The window swung open and the smiling faces of L!MC and A!MC greeted them.

“Oh my, it looks like we have some delinquents breaking curfew~.” L!MC cooed, resting their head on their hand.

“You shouldn’t be gambling this late! A-and your accessories don’t match!” A!MC huffed.

“Oi! L!MC, A!MC! What are ya doin’ up this late! It’s not good for ya!” Mammon whisper-yelled.

“My sleep schedule should be the least of your concerns right now, right A!MC?” L!MC elbowed A!MC, who nodded enthusiastically.

“Yep! Those who break curfew are hung from the ceiling by their toes.” A!MC shuddered.

M!MC rolled their eyes and stuck out their hand. “Come on L!MC! Let us in! You should listen to your older cousin!”

Upon hearing M!MC pull the older cousin card L!MC smiled deviously, grabbing both of M!MC’s hands. “Of course, dear cousin.” They leaned in. “Long live the king!”

L!MC shoved M!MC downward, Mammon caught them, but lost his own grip and they both lost hold of the money, which fell out of the bag and onto the ground like snow. Paper snow...

Oh well, at least Mammon and M!MC landed in some of the bushes...

“Ya know,” Mammon said as the money fell around them. “I’ve had dreams where this has happened.”

“Wow,” M!MC smiled. “Me too!”

Yep. This was his kid alright.

Not all his father/kid time revolved around money, it also revolved around both of them trying to avoid horror movie night without making it look like they were chickening out.

“Okay, I’ll fake a medical emergency!”

“Kid, no! They’ll never believe that!”

Since A!MC had their father’s eye for fashion and none of the judgemental comments, the kid became Mammon’s unofficial style coach.

“U-um... I hate to say it but those shoes don’t match with the rest of the outfit, the silhouette is confusing...”

“What’re ya talkin’ about? I look fantastic!”

“Are you blind? You look like a thrift store threw up on you.”

“Who invited you, Asmo?!”

“I’m here to support A!MC! You’re doing great by the way, sweetie!”

He may have cried a little when M!MC was able to fly without help... sniffle... they grow up so fast...

Oh- oh fuck they both crashed into the tree-

Oh My God he Actually Showed Up?! (Levi)

That... that couldn’t be real life! A shut-in’s worst nightmare! More people he needed to talk to!

Considering Mammon and Asmo’s track record with taking care of his things, Levi was incredibly hesitant to invite the two to binge anime with him and L!MC.

It seemed that the two normies inherited their fathers’s level of respect for closed doors. What I’m saying is the two crashed anime night.

“I have never seen such bullshit before.”

M!MC’s hands were stuffed in about five pairs of socks each, effectively turning their hands into useless nubs.

“You be quiet! This is to make sure that you don’t take any of my things and try and sell them on Akuzon!” Levi hissed, turning back to make sure his figurines were safe from the mini Mammon. A!MC was standing awkwardly next to L!MC, who was sitting in Levi’s gaming chair reading manga.

“So what are we going to watch..?” A!MC piped up. “I haven’t really watched much anime but I did watch Digimon...”

“I was more of a Beyblade kid.” M!MC hit their sock-stumps together to make a thumping noise.

Levi looked like he was ready to have a stroke. “L-listen! Those are gateway anime! You two need to watch proper anime! Non-dubbed anime!”

A!MC let out a shriek and stared at their reflection in a very shiny looking gundam figurine. “Have I been wearing off colour lip gloss the entire day?! O-oh no... I’m a mess!”

Levi let out a strangled wail and snatched the gundam out of A!MC’s hands. “D-don’t touch that! It’s worth more than a house!”

“It is?!” M!MC perked up and tried to wrestle their way out of their sock-gloves.

“Don’t make me stick you in a straight jacket...” Levi growled. He turned to L!MC with a pleading look on his face. “Please make them stop...”

L!MC grinned deviously and closed their book. “Of course I’ll help you, if we watch season two of The Promised Neverland.”

Levi shrieked and nearly pulled out his hair then and there. “It’s manga divergent! MANGA DIVERGENT! THEY SKIPPED SO MANY ARCS!”

M!MC and A!MC continued to wreak both purposeful and accidental havoc on Levi’s room, he was just about ready to summon Lotan then and there when L!MC shrugged.

“The ball’s in your court, Levi.” L!MC leaned back in the chair and resumed reading their manga.

Levi’s willpower shattered the moment he heard something fall off one of his cabinets. “WE CAN WATCH WHATEVER YOU WANT JUST MAKE THEM STOOOOOP!”

Quick as a flash, L!MC was out of the chair and had both M!MC and A!MC by the ears.

“HEY!” L!MC growled. “STOP ACTING LIKE IDIOTS OR SO HELP ME GRANDFATHER YOU TWO WON’T LIVE TO SEE GRADUATION!”

M!MC and A!MC became the most well behaved children in the Devildom after that... and L!MC and Levi got to watch their anime in peace.

Okay, Levi wasn’t heartless, he loved his lame normie niblings. They were just very very loud...

Though, M!MC was very good at finding merch for way lower prices... and A!MC actually really liked some of the anime they watched... Maybe they weren’t so bad.

M!MC’s attempts to budget that financial dumpster fire of an otaku was not going well, at least until M!MC convinced Lucifer to dangle concert tickets in front of Levi like a carrot on a stick until he agreed to do his best to stay within the monthly budget.

Levi had learned his lesson from L!MC’s flying lessons and steered clear of them, but luck was not on his side. The ONE time he willingly stepped outside of the house...

Both M!MC and A!MC crashed right into him.

The Uncle With the Cat You Never See and Aren’t Really Allowed to Pet. (Satan)

Oh fuck him sideways the house was going to be so much louder... Say goodbye to his quiet reading time...

On the bright side, the look of pure disbelief and exhaustion on Lucifer’s face gave Satan the biggest rush of serotonin he’d ever had in his life.

To be honest, he got on well with Asmo, and he... well it’s Mammon.

Could have been worse.

Could have been ANOTHER child of Lucifer.

“So... who do you think did it?” M!MC asked as the opening to the fourth episode of the murder documentary they were watching began. “I think it was the sister.”

“On what evidence do you make that assumption?” Satan asked.

M!MC shrugged. “Chick’s shifty.”

“I um... I think they disappeared on their own accord.” A!MC murmured. “I mean, so far it seemed the two’s home lives sucked...”

“Good theory.” Satan nodded to himself. “But both of you are wrong, it was very clearly the mother and the neighbour.”

“On what evidence do you make that assumption?” L!MC asked, imitating Satan’s voice. Detective Toe Beans was sprawled out on their lap.

Satan glowered at L!MC and leaned over to scratch Bean behind the ears. “The step-mother and neighbour are backing up each other’s alibis and they have a motive, access to a possible murder weapon, and a way of disposing of the corpses.”

L!MC rolled their eyes. “That’s a load of crap. It was just the step-mother. The mother had the motive, she and the father were on the outs, she wanted the father’s inheritance all to herself so she got rid of his kids.”

“How many more episodes of this are there?” M!MC asked. “This seems like a really dragged out way of just saying: I don’t know.”

“Sh! They’re explaining possible corpse disposal methods!” Satan hissed.

The four of them traded theories until the documentary series eventually ended with an unsatisfying ‘we dunno’.

“This is such shit...” M!MC muttered. “How have they managed to fill eight episodes with all these leads and evidence and the case is still unsolved?!”

“It’s because everyone involved was incompetent and stupid.” Satan sighed.

“You know,” L!MC smirked. “With all the true crime stuff the four of us watch, we could create the perfect crime.”

“We really could.” M!MC nodded in agreement.

“Using A!MC’s powers no one would suspect us...” Satan rubbed his chin thoughtfully.

“Uh...” A!MC shifted uncomfortably. “On an unrelated note... I’m going to go...”

As A!MC scampered out of the room, L!MC turned to Satan and M!MC.

“There’s always the one weak person in the group who’s not down with murder.”

“A sad truth.”

“Hang on I thought we were talking about theft or something-”

Satan and M!MC are surprising study buddies, hell, they even help Mammon study. Or... it’s more accurate to say that they try to help Mammon study.

A!MC is good company, they’re quiet when they read, unlike most people in the house who felt the need to provide commentary on every single event that occurs in the book.

After proving to be quite useless in L!MC’s flight lessons, he just reminded the two new half demons to wear protective padding.

The Hot Single Dad That’s In Every Romcom That Features a Child (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA (excitement)

Oh... his... father... HE WAS A DILF NOW-

He practically vaulted out of his seat to coo and fuss over his new found hellspawn, they were just SO CUTE!

Their wings were just like his! So adorable! Oh and those little horns! They were so cute Asmo just might have combusted then and there.

Of course, he couldn’t combust without finding out which of his flings had made such an adorably shy mini-him.

“Ah! I remember that party!” Asmo squee-ed as he looked at a picture of A!MC’s parent. “They looked so hot in that outfit I swear I was completely-”

“Asmodeus.” Lucifer grumbled. “That’s a child in front of you.”

“Oh! Right! Mind if I call your ren, A!MC?” Asmo asked, ruffling their kid’s hair. “I want to see if they remember me fondly!”

As Asmo chattered with A!MC’s parent about just how adorable and perfect their kid turned out, Asmo leaned over to A!MC to ask a question.

“A!MC, I know this is sudden but how do you feel about getting a sib-”

“ASMODEUS IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE I WILL FEED YOU TO CERBERUS!”

“Tsk. Rude.”

It’s safe to say Asmo adores his kid. I mean, they’re 50% him, how could he not.

He didn’t exactly have experience with the whole... being a big part of his kids’s life thing. Sure he held the unofficial record for most kids but that was because effective birth control hadn’t been invented at the time when he was allowed to run rampant in the human world, not because he was an A+ dad.

None of that mattered! He was going to be a 10/10 dad to A!MC!

They were so shy... so... mouse-like...

“Um... dad?” A!MC awkwardly twiddled there thumbs as they stood in the doorway to their father’s room. The sweet smell of whatever essential oil was being spread with the diffuser did next to nothing to calm the poor half-demon’s nerves.

Asmo popped his head out of his walk-in closet with a sparkling smile. “Yes, child of mine?”

“I um, just wanted to ask...” A!MC was desperately trying to stave off an oncoming stutter-spiral. “H-h-how- *ahem* how do- ugh...”

A!MC steeled their face and straightened their posture.

“How do I be confident like you?!” They blurted that out a little too loud for comfort, but Asmo’s near-immediate joy quashed any embarrassment A!MC was feeling.

“You want to be like little ol’ me?” Asmo gushed, clearly trying to hide just how flattered he was. “Well, of course you do! Your dad’s got your back. So first what we’re going to do-”

The Avatar of Lust had done the stereotypical early 2000s movie makeover many times before, but never with so much enthusiasm. His kid’s style was fine, it wasn’t a lack of pizazz either, it was the lack of confidence in the pizazz.

“Okay, now stand up straight.”

A!MC straightened their back as much as they could.

“Perfect! Chin up, shoulders back, and there you go!”

A!MC didn’t look too different on account that Asmo felt like their fashion sense was perfect, but dear not-old dad coached MC on a new walk, better posture, and Asmo filled their arms with about seven boxes of self-care supplies.

“What’s all this for?” A!MC asked, shifting the weight of the boxes slightly so they could actually see their dad.

“That, A!MC, is all the stuff you need to have confidence.” Asmo explained. “It’s not required of course, but it sure does help.”

“I’m not sure I follow...”

“Oh sweetie, it’s simple really. When you take care of yourself, you feel better, and when you feel better, you look better, and when you look better and feel better, your confidence skyrockets!” Asmo shifted some of the boxes A!MC was carrying around so they could stand up straighter and not be held down by the weight of the self-care arsenal. “Good posture stops your back from hurting, dressing decently helps you feel better about your appearance, as does taking care of your skin, aaaaaand all this will culminate in you being your best!”

A!MC still looked a bit skeptical, but they nodded anyway.

“Remember MC!” Asmo said as he led MC back to their room to help them sort their new stuff. “Confidence in yourself doesn’t happen overnight, so don’t let Mammon try and sell you a fix-all potion because it’s just boiled Gatorade.”

“O-okay- wait did you just say-”

“Yes, boiled Gatorade.” Asmo shuddered. “Let’s not talk about that.”

Dear uncle Asmo? A financial dumpster fire?! It’s more likely than you’d think.

Sure, Asmo’s got a job and makes his own money, but Geez Louise... one demon does not need that much hand cream! Or that many questionable Akuzon packages that everyone is too afraid to touch...

M!MC had their work cut out for them is what I’m trying to say.

Of course... once M!MC realized what a lost cause getting Asmo to stop with the obsessive bath bomb purchases was and a few too many insults were thrown at M!MC’s dear dad... some of Asmo’s things went uh... “missing”

But would you look at that! No one went over-budget!

Even though their dads have a fierce party related rivalry, A!MC and M!MC get along great. It’s very wholesome.

The Uncle That Helps You Pester Whoever is in Charge of the Food at the Family Reunion About Dessert (Beel)

Yay! More kids :)

Do you think any of them know how to cook? No? Okay... :(

Beel adores his new niblings with all his heart and soul, and Belphie’s out of the attic and is able to meet them with everyone else this time! Yay!

I didn’t mention this in the other parts- but Beel totally gave L!MC piggyback rides whenever they asked, but now that two more kids have arrived... it’s now a fight to be tall.

But yea- kids like uncle Beel. Strong contender for favourite uncle.

“Do you think this is right?” A!MC asked as they fiddled with the settings on the stovetop.

“No clue. Do we put the cheese on while the meat is cooking or do we wait until after?” M!MC asked, they flipped through multiple cheeseburger recipes on their DDD, their frustration growing. “Hang on- do we have a deep fryer?”

A!MC rummaged around the cupboards and shelves for a good fifteen minutes and came back empty handed. “No, but I’ve seen videos of people making fries without a deep fryer, I think we just need to heat up vegetable oil and drop the potatoes in.”

After setting up the make-shift deep fryer, the two cousins carefully dropped the first fry into the oil, then screamed like banshees when some oil splashed close to their hands.

“Did you get burned?!” M!MC asked, A!MC shook their head.

“No, you?”

“Nah...” M!MC eyed the oil warily. “We should do this one at a time to be safe...”

It was an awkward process, grab potato, place potato, scream, make sure no one is burned, repeat. As... decent as the process was, with both of them manning the deep fryer, no one was manning the patties that were now completely charred.

“What’s going on in here? It smells like Solomon’s cooking.” Beel poked his head into the kitchen and saw two very upset children and the world’s messiest kitchen.

“We’re failures. That’s all...” M!MC murmured.

“We wanted to make lunch for all of us and we ruined it...” A!MC added.

Beel’s heart was set to explode then and there- but his stomach growled. “You tried your best, don’t feel too bad. Let’s get cheeseburgers somewhere else with Belphie.”

M!MC and A!MC nodded enthusiastically as the three of them left the destroyed kitchen behind them.

After Beel had to sling a sleeping Belphie over his shoulder, the now four of them were halfway out the door before they heard L!MC scream bloody murder.

“YOU IDIOTS COME BACK HERE AND CLEAN THIS MESS UP RIGHT NOW!”

M!MC and A!MC made eye contact, then sprinted out the door. “CHEESEBURGERS FIRST!”

A!MC and M!MC probably go to all of Beel’s games like the little super fans they are. Beel is very grateful for the support! :D

Flying lessons? Nnnnnot again. He’s here for moral support and moral support only. And to catch the two babs when they inevitably fall.

The Uncle Who Was Like... Really Racist the Last Time You Saw Him But He’s Not Anymore (Belphie)

So he uh... he didn’t try and kill these two. That already gave the two newbies a better first impression than what he gave to L!MC.

The Anti Lucifer league ALSO grew, just by one member though. A!MC was very easily persuaded to snitch on whatever prank the group concocted.

The attic nap club gained two new members, but Belphie still had to deal with wings hitting him in the face and waking him up. He’d usually return the favour with a swat from his tail.

“M!MC I swear I will throw you out of the window if you kick me again.” Belphie murmured, mashing his face into his pillow.

“Mmmph.” M!MC threw a pillow in Belphie’s direction.

“Quit whining, Belphie.” L!MC huffed. “You’re doing better than me.”

A!MC had attached themselves to L!MC like a sloth to a tree and would not let go or stop drooling. Ah schadenfreude, the best feeling in the galaxy...

“Stop with that look.” L!MC hissed, Belphie snickered. “I’m telling you to quit it because you’ll wake up Beel, and Beel is solving your M!MC problem.”

Belphie turned to see Beel practically crush M!MC into a bone breaking hug in his sleep.

“Should we do something about that?” L!MC yawned.

Belphie smirked his little douchebag smirk. “Eh, let them stew for a few more minutes.”

“Help me...” M!MC rasped.

Out of the three, A!MC is probably the best nap buddy, they bring in their own pillows and don’t hog the blankets.

Belphie is once again at the forefront for taking videos of the flying lessons, at least till M!MC accidentally broke Belphie’s DDD.

Just a friendly reminder, the sleepy cow man would kill for these kids.

Look at them funny and no one will find your body.

Okay! That’s part 3 done! I had to cut Belphie’s and Satan’s short because of post limit stuff, but the stuff with the side characters is coming soon! Also, Mammon would like me to inform all those who donated to his Go Fund Me that you will NOT be getting your money back, he has a kid to deck out in full Gucci now, he needs the cash!

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peachywrite · 3 years ago

Text

Before I Let You Go

Rohan Kishibe x JosukeSister!Reader & Protective Brother!Josuke

Trigger Warning: violence, inappropriate stand use, mild suggestive themes

Josuke doesn't understand why his sister has been spending even more time with Morioh's Famous Mangaka.

Josuke sat himself down beside Koichi, the pair of friends awaiting the next delicious plate of specialty pasta Tonio was whipping up for them.

“You know, your sister has been hanging around Rohan quite a bit recently.” Koichi’s concern was evident in his tone of voice and the way he avoided eye contact with Josuke.

“What are you talking about? She just likes his art, is all. She’s always been into drawing and stuff since she was little.” Josuke tried to brush Koichi’s worries away, but he too was a bit suspicious of their sudden closeness.

Tonio returned with two heaping plates of authentic Italian pasta, smiling down as he placed each on the table. He gave a small bow and returned to the kitchen. Koichi poked at the new food with his fork, spinning it around as he began to speak.

“I mean, they’ve been hanging out with each other for a while now, but just recently it feels like something’s changed.” The two paused for a quick bite of their dishes and thought quietly to themselves, both suddenly coming to the same conclusion.

“Hey, Josuke. You don’t think your sister would ever date Rohan, right? What am I thinking, that’s a stupid question. It would never happen.” The shorter boy scratched his cheek nervously, staring down at his plate.

“I-I don’t know. She’s never had a boyfriend before. Rohan’s also too proud to date anyone, so we shouldn’t worry our heads over this, Koichi.” Josuke smiled at him, patting the gray-haired boy on the back to reassure him.

“I don’t know, it’s just… The other day, when I went over to return some photos to Rohan, I saw the two of them through the window. I couldn’t see exactly what they were doing, but it kinda looked like he was holding her hand? And placing a kiss on it? I don’t know though, the window was so high up, so I probably didn’t see anything.” Koichi’s voice wavered, the overwhelming silence from his friend concerning him.

He didn’t have the heart to look Josuke in the eyes at the moment, too afraid he may have let the young man down by not sharing this memory sooner. The dread in his heart outweighed his fears quickly, and Koichi looked up to see a Josuke imbued in the darkest aura imaginable. It reminded him of those terribly frightening spirits in the alley that tried to steal him that one day.

“Uh-Josuke? Is everything a-alright? I know I should have told you sooner, but I wanted to be a hundred percent sure about it before you could go off and beat up Rohan again.” Josuke silently nodded, pulling out his wallet and dropping enough to pay for both meals on the table as he scooted his chair in and began to leave.

“Josuke! We aren’t sure if they even are dating yet!” Koichi shouted.

Josuke turned around, a chilling smile spread across his face as he waved.

“No worries, Koichi. I’m off to find out. Sorry about leaving you, I’ll call Okuyasu to take my place while I’m out. I’ll see you later and tell you what I found out.”

All Koichi could do was stutter in surprise at Josuke’s changed demeanor.

Was he putting on a show to calm his nerves? Or was he actually thinking about how it would affect his sister if Rohan was dating her?

The boy returned to his meal, lost in thought, until a tired Okuyasu joined him at the table.

Josuke’s heart was conflicted. If y/n was really dating Rohan, that would mean she was probably in love with the mangaka. He knew his sister wore her emotions on her sleeve and would never fake a romance, but was that true for Rohan? Could he have used Heaven’s Door to make her love him?

He didn’t trust Rohan after what happened with the others, but he did save his life when they fought against Highway Star.

This is what conflicted him. Rohan had a good soul, but was he doing this because he truly loved y/n, or was this another trick to get back at him for the lost dice game or the partial burning of his mansion? Rohan was the kind of person to hold grudges for as long as he saw fit, so this frightened Josuke.

“You can tease and mess with me all you want, but as soon as you bring my sister into this, you’ve crossed the line.” He muttered under his breath, jogging to the café he knew the artist would probably be sitting at.

As he finally spotted the mangaka, enjoying a sip of tea between his quick sketches, he rushed past the hostess and right up to the table. Rohan was caught off guard, a bit frightened and prepared to use his stand until he saw the steak shaped head of hair.

“Josuke? You idiot, I almost attacked you. Why are you rushing me like an enemy?” He blew out his held breath and took another sip of tea.

Josuke pulled up a seat across from the artist, his hands neatly folded in front of him, eyes staring down as he tried to formulate the proper words without working himself up.

“Rohan, I heard from someone that you may be dating my sister. I just want to know if the rumor is true.” Rohan nearly spit out his cup of tea, the shock of the question taking him completely off guard.

After composing himself, the Great Rohan Kishibe began to sweat as he tried to decide whether he should divulge the truth. Y/n would want him to be honest, but he feared the beating Josuke would surely give him if he found out the two of you were dating.

“Your hesitation to answer is making me nervous, Rohan. You better speak up soon, or I’m gonna lose my patience.” The young delinquent spoke through gritted teeth.

“Fine. Yes, we are. We have been for at least a week now. I love her. It’s simple. Why are you asking me? You could have easily just gotten the same information from her.” Rohan took another sip of tea, hiding his face behind the cup as he tried to figure out how the young man would react.

Josuke’s hands reached out from across the table, grabbing Rohan by the collar and dragging him off to the side, so he could pull him in closer. The smashing of glass on the quiet block alerted the hostesses as they worriedly watched.

“Rohan-sensei! Do you need us to call the police?!” Shouted one of the waitresses, who had reached for her cellphone behind the counter.

“No, everything's alright. I can handle this.” Rohan waved her off, Josuke still dangling the man in the air.

“You better not be doing this to get back at me. I can take the teasing and the jabs at my intelligence, but I won’t let you make a mockery of my sister and her feelings.” Josuke lowered the man down, taking a breath to relax himself, then began to drag the manga artist off the café patio.

“Hey! Release me, you brute! Where are you taking me?!” Rohan struggled in his hold, trying to call Heaven’s Door out to control Josuke.

“We’re going to see y/n.” Rohan stopped fighting and instead calmly placed his hand on Josuke’s shoulder.

The boy stopped, turning around to meet Rohan’s stern face.

“I’ll go with you, just stop manhandling me.” Josuke stared into him, debating with himself, then let the manga artist go.

Rohan stumbled back to his feet, dusting himself off as he grumbled under his breath about how rude Josuke was being to him.

The two walked side by side towards the Higashikata residence. When they were nearly a block away, Josuke spotted you being dropped off by Jotaro. You waved goodbye to the older man, but turned around to face them after.

“Good grief.” Jotaro rolled his eyes with a sigh, leaning against the car as you spotted your brother and your boyfriend angrily walking toward you.

“What do you think is up with them?” You asked, curious as to why both seemed to be in foul moods.

“Looks like your brother found out who your boyfriend is. I’m only staying because I don’t want an unnecessary stand fight.” The marine biologist pouted to himself, annoyed.

You looked back at the pair, shaking your head in annoyance as well.

“I should have just told him from the start. I knew Rohan couldn’t keep quiet about this.” You motioned to the two of them to speed up, so you could talk.

As they reached you, Josuke grabbed onto Rohan again, dragging him by his collar with one hand.

“Why must you fling me around like a rag doll!? I already agreed to come with you!” Rohan shouted, squirming in Josuke’s death grip.

“Use Heaven’s Door on her.” Josuke mumbled to the mangaka.

All he could do was shake his head in response, his eyes wide at the order given to him by the delinquent. Suddenly, a second hand came up to grip the other side of Rohan’s collar, both now shaking him violently.

“I said use Heaven’s Door! I want to be sure you aren’t messing with her!” The tears that welled up in Josuke’s eyes shocked you.

You’d seen Josuke cry before, but these tears were different. He looked scared.

“Josuke, stop it! There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

You placed a hand on Josuke’s back, your touch pausing his tirade and causing him to drop his hold on the artist. Helping him up, you touch Rohan’s cheek and nod to him.

“Rohan, I give you permission to use Heaven’s Door on me right now.” He shook his head again, adamant about his refusal.

“I won’t use it on you. Not for that bastard or for you. It’s not right.” You could tell how upset this was making Rohan. He turned his head away from you, not allowing you to meet his gaze.

“Rohan, please. He’s just scared. Just this once. I’ll never ask for you to do this again.” He finally meets your eyes and sighs.

His hands carefully touch your cheek as he whispers Heaven’s Door. The pages on your face open up and prevent you from moving, but you happily look up at the man, reassuring him that you felt safe and accepted this. Josuke came from behind the artist, flipping through all your pages quickly, searching for any scribblings Rohan could have made.

A few minutes pass and Josuke is finally content with his search. He closes the book on your face and your movement returns to you.

“See. Everything was fine. I really do like him. A lot, actually.” You pinch Josuke’s cheek.

Josuke pulls you into a tight hug as you feel his stress melt away. The mangaka crosses his arms, an angry pout on his face. All you can do is sigh and return the hug.

“I just wanted to be sure. If you were to get hurt because of me, I don’t know how I’d live with that.” He squeezes you tighter, your breath leaving your body quickly from his sheer strength.

“Josuke, it’s fine! Trust me! Now let go, you're crushing me.” You squirm, but your brother refuses to budge.

“I don’t think I will. If I let go, you’re gonna go give Rohan a hug, and I don’t want to see that.” The boy then lifts you with little effort and attempts to run, but his plan is foiled when your stand manifests and wraps around his legs, keeping him from moving.

“I see how it is, y/n. Fine, go be with your boyfriend, but no lovey-dovey stuff.” Your vines unwrap his legs as he sets you down.

You give your brother one last hug and a smile, running into Rohan’s arms. He still looks upset, but when you nuzzle into his chest, his anger melts away.

“I’m sorry you had to do that. It had to happen, though, so don’t be too mad at me. I’ll make it up to you, promise.” You look up at him, still in his arms, he leaves a quick peck on your cheek followed by a hefty sigh.

“You’re lucky I’m such a forgiving man.”

#rohan kishibe x reader #kishibe rohan x reader #rohan kishibe #kishibe rohan #jjba reader insert #jjba part 4 #jjba x reader #jjba #platonic josuke

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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years ago

Text

Nowhere | Rafe Cameron x reader

Requested by MEEEEEE lol / Summary: Rafe has nowhere else to go after Ward kicks him out of the house and he finds himself on the doorstep of your house. What will the rest of the pogues think of your new roommate?

A/N: do i have like 20 requests on my list right now? Yes. Am I working on one that I thought of instead? Yes and i’m sorry but I hope you guys like it! xx

Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx

**MASTERLIST**

Requests: {OPEN} CLOSED

** Rules for Requesting **

** Who I Write For **

********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS

It was way passed one o clock in the morning when you woke up to someone knocking on the door. “no... shut up..” You groan, turning over and pulling your pillow over your ear to block out the knocking.

Part of you should have probably been worried to be woken from your slumber to someone knocking, but you lived on the cut and lived in the marsh where you didn’t have anything worth stealing. You should have also been worried about being home alone, but your father worked an oil rig off shore and he wasn’t home months at a time, so you were use to being home alone.

The person continued to knock and you muttered some curse words before finally tossing the blankets off you and heading toward your front door, “I’m coming! Jesus..” You had to rub the sleep out of your eyes to make sure you weren’t dreaming and to make sure your mind playing tricks on you because this had to be a dream. Rafe Cameron is standing at your door.

“I had no where else to go.” He croaks as he lets his shoulders fall, “He kicked me out.”

You and Rafe weren’t for the usual pogue vs kook thing like everyone else on the island was. You’d even go far enough to call yourself friends. Friends who’d had a few intimate moments.

You ushered him into the house and closed the door behind him before wrapping your arms around him in a hug. It was then that he let everything out and started to cry in your arms. “I’ll never be good enough for him...”

You two stayed up talking for the longest where he’d explained what went down before Ward kicked him out. You offered your place to stay for as long as he needed, but he would need to pull his own weight, which meant trying to find a job. He turned his nose up at the suggestion, “Me? Rafe Cameron working?”

“If you want to eat and live then yeah. You, Rafe Cameron working.” You laughed, shoving his shoulder, “It’s called not everyone has a rich daddy.”

He groaned as he fell back on the bed, “How horrid!”

“I do it almost everyday! It’s not that bad.” You laid down next to him, “I’ll ask around, see if I can find you something.”

He turns his head to look at you, “Thank you. For letting me crash and offering to help find a job.”

“I’m just paying you back for saving my ass that night.” You’d been at the wrong place, wrong time and was about to be arrested for it when Rafe had appeared out of no where and talked to the officer. Telling the officer you’d been with him the whole time and weren’t anywhere near what had happened.

He turns on his side and props himself up on his arm, “Couldn’t let you go to jail. You’re too pretty for jail.”

You can’t help but let your heart flutter at his words. He was serious with his compliment but you weren’t sure how to react. Deciding to play it off, you playfully roll your eyes, “And you’re too pretty to live on the streets.” You laugh and reach over to turn off your light, “Let’s go to sleep.”

“What the hell is this!” Kie screeched as she’d opened the door to your bedroom, the pogues behind her. You all had plans today to go fishing, but you weren’t waiting on the dock when they arrived so they decided to see what the hold up was. They didn’t expect to find you curled in bed with Rafe Cameron.

“Shit!” You quickly sit up, remembering the plans you all had, “It’s not what it looks like.”

“Not what it looks like?!” JJ asks.

“Looks like you’re in bed with Rafe Cameron!” John B adds.

You groan and throw the covers off you, getting out of bed, shooing them out the room, “I’ll explain.”

Rafe groaned as he woke up, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing.. just go back to bed.” You said softly, pushing the pogues out of the room. “I’ll handle this.”

He watches as you push the pogues out of your room and shut the door. Uh oh.

“What the hell y/n? Have you lost your mind?” Kie asks as soon as y’all make it to the living room.

“Out of everyone, Rafe Cameron?” Pope asks, “He’s given us shit for months!”

“Like I said before, it’s not what it looks like. We didn’t sleep together.” You head into the kitchen to make you a cup of coffee, the pogues following.

“Then why is Rafe Cameron in your bed?” John B asks.

You debate telling them the truth; “Can you guys just trust me when I tell you it’s not what it looks like?”

“No, we can’t. Not after everything that asshole has done to us.” JJ answers, “He’s a snake and a kook. There shouldn’t be a reason for him in your bed.”

“Okay first of all, who is in my bed is none of your concern.” You warn JJ with a point of a finger, “You’ve fucked almost every girl on the island and every touron who gives you a look, so you can’t say shit. and second, he’s a friend who needed a place to crash, so I gave him one.”

John B scoffs at that, “What Tanneyhill didn’t have enough rooms for him?”

“No asshole, his dad kicked him out. You happy now?” You grab the sugar and cream and set them on the counter.

“It’s Rafe Cameron, he could have gone to anyone else on this island. I mean anyone, he’s friends with everyone. But.. why you?” Pope asks with suspicion.

“Yeah, y/n. Why would he come to you, a pogue he is supposed to hate looking for a place to stay?” Kie asks, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You know that night you all ditched me after shit went down at the Boneyard? Yeah well, Rafe was the one who talked me out of being arrested.” You look up at them, “He’s the one who saved my ass while you all just ditched.”

“We couldn’t get arrested either. You could have ran.” JJ scoffs, “We all did.”

“They already had it surrounded by the time I reached the tree lines.”

“Okay but that still doesn’t answer the question of why you.” John B says, his hands on the island in front of him.

“I don’t know john b maybe he sees me as a friend?! If you haven’t noticed, he’s stopped fucking with you guys, including me. The kooks who mess with us aren’t his buddies. He’s a good guy, if you’d just get to know him. If you’d just give him a chance.”

Kie gives a half-hearted laugh, “Get to know him.. Yeah okay. You mean sleep with him, don’t you? You’ve slept with him?”

You step up at Kie, “Like I told JJ, who I fuck is none of your concern.”

“Alright. let’s just calm down.” Pope mutters, stepping between the two of you, “Kie, y/n is right. Who she.. sleeps with isn’t our concern.”

“Yeah but y/n you should have told us about this. About you and Rafe. Maybe it wouldn’t have come with such a shock.” John B states with a shrug.

“It would have been the same reaction you all have now. What does that matter? You all would still be scolding me for getting even close to Rafe or thinking of him as a friend.”

“She’s right though.” JJ mutters and gives a shrug when the pogues look at him, “I mean it’s the truth. You guys really think we’d be okay with it if she told us it from the beginning?”

“Fine whatever, okay then why is he here? Why’d his dad kick him out?”

“I don’t-”

“Because I didn’t want anything to do with him or his business.” Rafe interrupts, walking into the kitchen and to your side at the counter, “He wanted me to take over the company, be just like him and I said no.” He glances down at you then back up at the pogues, “Plus, I told him I was in love with someone he didn’t approve of.”

“You’re.. in love with her?” JJ asks, pointing to you.

You’re looking up at Rafe in disbelief, “Me?”

He scratches the back of his neck, “yeah.. I mean this wasn’t how I wanted to tell you...”

“I love you too..” You whisper with a smile and pull him in for a kiss.

“oh no.. don’t do it.” JJ groans covering his eyes.

“Well shit.” John B mutters.

“I guess pogues vs kooks is over now?” Pope asks.

Rafe smiles into the kiss, holding you against his body, “I guess I’m a pogue now that I’ve been kicked out?”

You shook your head with a laugh, “Oh honey, you’re definitely still a kook.”

“yeah no you’ve never worked a real job in your life.” Kie laughs, “You’re a kook.”

What else was there to say to you? He loved you, you loved him. The pogues were your friends and even though they’d have to get use to it, they’d still support you and Rafe’s relationship because that’s what friends are for.

Rafe Cameron // Drew Starkey taglist: @pm-my-hubbies , @timotaychalabae , @fratboystark , @fangirlvoice , @saraholland03 , @starkeymemories

All my works tag list: @blossomreed , @mggstyles , @simonsbluee , @thewolf-and-thesheep , @obxrafe ( @obxrafejjwhore ), @abbiesthings , @itstaskeen , @reniescarlett

Obx taglist: @poguestyleskye , @alexa-playafricabytoto , @kaelyn-lobrutto24 , @prejudic3 , @turtlee-says-rawr , @outrbank , @k-k0129 , @annedub , @rockyyc77 , @ilovejjmaybank , @treestarrrrrrrr , @thedarkqueenofavalon , @write-from-the-heart , @lasnaro , @ircnwitch, @normatural , @kaylinfayezink , @lordsagittarius , @moose-squirrel-asstiel , @thelovelydreamer17 , @chasefreakinstokes , @fanficscuziranout , @diverrdown , @tregua-oca , @junkiemuppettxx , @afterglowsb-tch13 , @hardyxlove , @cinnamon-roll-seth , @copper-boom , @dpaccione , @themaddies-obx ,

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muffinbeliever · 3 years ago

Text

When the Stars Align [07]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Soulmate!Reader

Word Count: 4717

Warnings: language, sexual content, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), ANGST, but also cute date fluff, Lisa Braeden (yes this is a warning), crying, body insecurity

Summary: Soulmate!AU– Everyone has the first words their soulmate says to them tattooed on their wrists. You and your cat are living a normal life in Fort Collins, Colorado when three men come bursting through your door, completely changing your life. Reader-insert story. Starts around S06E08, but Sam has his soul, and it doesn’t really follow the series from there

A/N: HELLO !!!! i apologize for the delay my classes have been swamping me with work and i already had writers block but i finished this chapter like five minutes ago and i'm desperate to post it and see what you guys think ! please be sure to leave comments and likes as always <3

Masterlist | When the Stars Align Masterlist

Sunlight illuminated Dean’s face that you admired as you drove along the open road. The windows were down, a light breeze flowing through the car. Occasionally, Dean would catch you staring at him, but you didn’t mind and neither did he.

You giggled when you noticed a familiar neon sign and the red leather booths that peaked through the window, having been here only a couple of hours before.

“What?” Dean looked over at you, nervous as he didn’t know why you laughed. You shook your head, before replying.

“I just really like this place,” you said, refraining from telling him about your earlier excursion with Thomas, not wanting it to ruin the moment. He gave you a soft smile.

“I remember,” he said, his eyes shining with fondness, “You mentioned that you come here a lot when you were showing me around.” Your heart soared at the fact that he remembered the small detail.

He parked the car, before quickly getting out of the car, jogging over to your side to open the door before you could even register what had happened. He extended his arm and you giggled at his silliness before getting out of the car. He closed the door behind you, his hand coming to rest on the small of your back, gently leading you towards the diner.

There weren’t many people and you were grateful, hoping to have a quiet dinner with your soulmate and get to know him a bit better. He grabbed a booth snuggled against a corner of the room, gesturing you to sit down. You took one side of the table and he took the other side.

Two menus were placed on the table, and the dark-haired waitress flashed Dean a smile. She looked a couple of years older than you and her black jeans and tight shirt hugged her curves, her tied apron accentuating her slim waist. Her hair fell in gentle waves, framing her face in a way that yours never did.

“My name is Carmen, I’ll be serving you tonight,” she said directly to Dean. You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, and you caught Dean glance at you.

“Can I start you off with anything to drink?” She asked, and Dean nodded.

“Yeah, I’ll have a Coke, please. Sweetheart, what about you?” He asked you kindly.

“A water, please,” you said to Carmen. Her eyes roamed your face and clothes, and she gave you a smirk.

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she said, winking at Dean before walking away, her hips swaying with each step. There was a familiar sinking feeling in your chest that reeked of self-doubt.

Who did you think you are? Bagging a guy like Dean Winchester? Obviously, you weren’t terrible to look at, but you sure as hell weren’t a head-turner. Guys didn’t double take when you passed by nor did they try to pursue you. The only exception was Thomas, and you were sure that it was more of a friendly attraction than romantic.

You picked up a menu, not even sparing Dean a glance, trying to focus on what you were going to eat. Despite having eaten here many times, you were surprised at the selection they offered. Most times, you got a salad, sometimes switching it up with a burger, but the prospect of a pastrami sandwich sounded especially inviting tonight. You were debating ordering the pastrami, but decided that it probably wouldn’t look very attractive to eat. Besides, you were already self-conscious about your body, might as well try to eat healthily. Out of the corner or your eye, you saw Carmen approach your table, placing down the two drinks and straws.

“Have you decided what to get, sugar?” Carmen said, flashing a smile at Dean, not that he noticed. He was still looking at the menu, preoccupied with the dozens of choices to choose from.

“Yeah, uh… I’ll get the double bacon cheeseburger with fries on the side,” he said, before looking up and handing her his menu.

“And you?” She asked in a bored tone.

“I’ll get the chicken salad please, dressing on the side,” you said and she wrote it down before leaving. Dean gave you a look.

“Salad? I thought you liked burgers,” he observed, and you felt your heart sink. You didn’t want to be a salad girl, but here you were. You chastised yourself, this is Dean. He doesn’t care if you eat a pastrami sandwich.

“You’re right, I’ll be right back,” you said with newfound courage before getting up from the booth and walking over to the counter. You were able to call out to Carmen.

“Actually, can I have the pastrami sandwich with a side of fries instead of the salad?” She scoffed.

“Figures,” she muttered, “You don’t look like the salad type.”

Her bitchy tone cut through your heart like a knife. You were taken aback, unable to think for a second. You tried formulating a response, but she was already gone. You looked over at Dean who was typing away on his phone, probably texting Sam. You were defeated once again by a beautiful woman.

You made your way to the table, sitting down, lost in your thoughts. Dean’s phone was put away and you were staring at the table. Thinking for a second, you got up, and a look of confusion flashed in Dean’s eyes, but it was gone when you slid into the booth right next to him.

“Hey there, sweetheart. Get a little lonely over there?” He joked and you rolled your eyes before snuggling closer to him, breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne.

“Just missed you was all,” you mumbled into his shoulder and he kissed the top of your head.

“I missed you too, sweetheart,” he said, “but I can tell something is wrong.” He gave you a knowing look.

“Carmen is pretty,” you admitted, hating that you were being petty.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous,” he said, and you scoffed, pulling away to look at him.

“I’m not jealous,” you said, hoping you sounded more confident than you felt.

“I was just… I was making sure that… I…” you stammered before sighing, your shoulders falling in defeat.

“Yeah, okay maybe I was a little jealous. But clearly, we’re here together and she just kept staring at you, and don’t even get me started on how she talked to me.” You could feel yourself sinking deeper into your thoughts, hating that your stupid insecurities were about to ruin the date.

“What did she say to you?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing. You shook your head, debating on not telling him, but his deep green eyes were full of concern and worry.

“Just that I don’t look like the salad type,” you said, lowering your head in embarrassment. A hand came up to cup your cheek and your eyes met his once again.

“That’s bullshit. You’re beautiful. The most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. I’m only yours, sweetheart,” he said, sincerely, before pulling you into a gentle kiss. It was scary how easily that calmed you down. You had struggled with insecurities for the majority of your life, and it usually took a couple of days, if not weeks, to pull yourself out of the dark hole in your mind, but one kiss from Dean, and all of the sudden, your heart stops racing and your thoughts slow.

Your kiss was disrupted by a clatter of plates on the table. Carmen didn’t speak a word to either of you and she was about to leave when Dean called out to her.

“You’re going to apologize to my girlfriend and then we’re getting a new server. You have no right to speak to her like that,” Dean defended you, an angry look on his face.

“Dean,” you whispered, a bit embarrassed by how this was going. She wasn’t exactly wrong, you weren’t supermodel-thin nor did you have amazing curves that drove men wild.

“Sorry,” Carmen said, not sounding sorry at all, before spinning on her heels and walking away from the table.

“Bitch,” Dean muttered, his eyebrows furrowing as he noticed you were lost in your thoughts, a small frown on your face. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head before you turned to look up at him.

“Let’s just enjoy our date,” you said with a hopeful smile, and he nodded. Forty minutes, a pastrami sandwich, and a double bacon cheeseburger later, you were giggling like a schoolgirl, enamored by the man sitting next to you.

“Sammy was sitting on the handlebars while I rode us to the hospital!” Dean exclaimed and you laughed at the story. He snatched a fry off your plate and dipped it in ketchup before shoving it in his mouth. You were acutely aware of the warmth radiating from his thigh that was pressed against yours. Caught up in his green eyes, you didn’t notice a man approach the table.

“How was the food?” You jumped, shocked at his sudden appearance. It was the manager, John or Jacob or something with a ‘J’. He came over after you complained about Carmen, apologizing for her behavior and telling you that he would be serving you for the rest of the night.

You beamed at him, completely satisfied with the pastrami sandwich that was now happily sitting in your stomach.

“Great!” Dean responded, flashing him a smile. The manager returned the smile before continuing.

“Because of your unpleasant start to the evening, dessert is on us. We have root beer floats, ice cream sundaes, and a variety of pies,” he listed, and you immediately looked at Dean whose eyes lit up.

“We’ll take a slice of apple pie, please,” Dean responded right away, his hand squeezing yours in excitement. You giggled at the smile on his face. The manager nodded and left the table, the two of you falling into a comfortable silence. You looked up at him, admiring the freckles dotting his face. He gave you a soft smile that you returned and you leaned in for a kiss. It was a chaste kiss, not one of need or lust, but adoration and love.

Throughout the months, you have accepted that you had fallen for the oldest Winchester brother. There was the obvious fact that he was your soulmate, the one person in the world made exactly for you, but you knew that even if that weren’t the case, you would have still been in love with Dean. You loved his wit and charm, often catching yourself imagining his flirtatious winks. Not only was he gorgeous to look at, but he didn’t flaunt it like other men did. Sure, he knew he was attractive, but you at times, you sensed deep-rooted insecurities from him, which you thought was ridiculous since he was basically built like a Greek god. He was selfless to a fault; always putting everyone before himself. His loyalty to Sam was admirable, and you had no doubt that he would do anything for those he loved.

The manager placed a giant steaming slice of pie between the two of you, two forks on the side of the plate as well as whipped cream. You expected Dean to dig right in, but he looked at you expectantly. The scent of the spiced apple filled wafted from the plate and made your mouth salivate. Dean picked up a fork and detached a large piece from the tip of the slice. Before you could even register his actions, he brought the fork up to your mouth and pressed it against your closed lips. You accepted it without question, humming as the warm treat hit your tongue.

“That bad, huh?” Dean joked with a twinkle in his eye. You smiled at him before returning the favor. Your fork didn’t grab nearly as big of a piece as his did, but you focused on the way his lips wrapped around the fork. His tongue swiped at his upper lip, not wanting to waste a single crumb of pie.

Heat pooled in your belly and you clenched your thighs together, remembering just how much of an expert he was with his tongue. He groaned, his eyes closed as he savored the pie, and the sound shot straight to the apex of your thighs. You let out a small whimper, and his eyes flashed open. His green eyes swept your figure, taking in your squished thighs and flushed neck before smirking at you.

“Later, sweetheart,” he promised, his fingers dancing on the top of your thighs. You could feel his warmth through your jeans, sparks of electricity shooting through you with every touch. You shuffled closer to him, wanting your bodies as close as possible.

“You want some more?” He offered to you and you nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Dean got another piece of pie and shoved it in his mouth. You looked at him, confused, and he smirked at you once again before pulling you into a searing kiss. You let out a soft moan as his tongue played with yours, the taste of apple pie fresh in your mouths. His hand tightened around your thigh at the sound. He was the first to pull away, breathless.

“Let’s get this to go, ya?” He suggested with a wink and you giggled, nodding. You were lost in his smile, noting the way his eyes crinkled at the corners and his full lips turned up. He waved the manager down and asked for a box and the check. You placed the pie delicately in the take-out box as Dean set down enough cash to cover for the meal and tip.

You slid out of the booth first, pulling your leather jacket on and Dean’s hand rested on the small of your back, leading the both of you out of the diner. As you expected, the air was crisp and chilled. He opened the door of the Impala for you, making sure you were safely inside before shutting it. You watched as he jogged over to the driver's side, sliding in next to you. Grateful for the long bench, you shifted closer to Dean and his hand came to rest comfortably on your thigh.

The soft sounds of Bon Jovi whispered through the speakers, barely noticeable unless you strained your ears. The windows were closed this time due to the slightly colder weather, but you were warm with Dean beside you.

There wasn’t much talking on the way home. You sat in a comfortable silence, occasionally feeling his eyes on your face, but every time you looked at him, he was looking away, a smile on his face. After the third time, you huffed and grabbed his hand from your thigh, interlacing your fingers with his. He looked at you, surprise written on his face, and you gave him a triumphant smile. He brought your interlocked hands up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your hand.

Before you knew it, the familiar light of your street came into view and he pulled his car up in front of your house. You didn’t want to let go of his hand, so you slid out his door after he did, holding the box of pie in your other hand. The crickets were chirping as you walked up to the front door.

‘Later, sweetheart,’ came the echo of his voice throughout your mind, and you pulled him into the house, roughly kissing him once the door was closed. His arms came to your shoulders, gently pushing off the sleeves of your leather jacket. You struggled a little bit, not wanting to drop the pie in your hand, before Dean took it from you, setting it on the small table next to your door that usually held nothing but a small succulent.

He pulled off your shirt in a swift motion and his lips began traveling down your neck, occasionally sucking and licking sensitive spots. You gasped as he nibbled your earlobe.

“So responsive,” he murmured and an involuntary shiver ran through your body. His leg gently pushed your legs apart and his thigh pressed against your covered core. His hands gripped your waist, and you ground against his thigh, the friction of your jeans rubbing against your sensitive bud in a deliciously perfect way.

“Good girl,” he praised, continuing his trail of kisses from your neck down to the tops of your breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered to himself, staring at your flushed chest. You were wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy or particularly sexy, but Dean made you feel like you were in expensive lingerie, draped in the finest lace and silk in the world. You moaned wantonly, begging for more. You picked up the rhythm, moving faster against his thigh. He watched you with lust-filled eyes, devouring you. The pressure between your legs kept building until it finally peaked, and you came with a loud moan. Dean placed gentle kisses on your sweaty forehead, relaxing you as you came down from your high. His leg came down, setting your feet gently on the floor. Your legs felt like jello, occasional spasms wracking through them.

“Maybe we should move this to the bedroom,” you suggested, not wanting the night to be over. He picked you up in his arms and carried you bridal style into your room. He gently tossed you onto the bed. He peeled his clothes off and you wriggled out of your tight jeans and soaked underwear. Your hands went behind your back to unclasp your bra and you flung it off the bed, hearing it land on the floor with a soft thud. You laid back down on the bed, fully naked and ready for Dean.

His eyes swept over your naked body and you spied his cock straining through the fabric of his boxers. He quickly discarded his underwear and laid on top of you, his firm chest pressing against your naked breasts. You could feel him hard against your stomach and you snaked a hand between the two of you, wrapping your hand around his shaft.

Your thumb wiped across the slit, catching the beads of precum that were leaking from his tip. His breath caught and you slowly pumped him in your hands. One of his large hands came to rest on your right breast, his thumb brushing against your pebbled nipple. The other hand dipped into your wet folds, collecting your juices on his digits. You watched him suck them off his fingers before they were venturing into you once again. You whined, not wanting to wait another second for his cock to be inside you.

“Please,” you said, squirming beneath him. He had one hand lazily circling your clit and the other pinching and tugging at your breasts.

“Please what, sweetheart?” he asked, power dripping from his words. You searched for more friction, but couldn’t find any.

“Please fuck me,” you begged. “I want to feel you inside me please. Fill me up with your big cock.”

“Fuck, baby,” he swore under his breath, before lining himself at your entrance. With a single thrust, he was completely unleashed in you, and you let out an embarrassingly loud moan. He groaned into your neck, still not used to your tightness and warmth surrounding him. When you were adjusted to his large size, he began moving inside you.

His cock dragged along your walls with every thrust, emptying you and filling you repeatedly. Your legs hooked around his back, driving him deeper into you, hitting places you didn’t even know existed. Your moans bounced off the walls, as did his low grunts.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he demanded, his fingers working your clit once again. Your eyes clenched shut as you came around him with a scream. He pulled you into a bruising kiss and his thrusts became sloppy as he raced to catch his release, pulling out of you and spilling himself on your chest and stomach. Spent, he rolled next to you, the two of you heaving to catch your breath.

“Wow,” you whispered once your racing heart began to slow. He turned his face towards you, grinning.

“Yeah,” he agreed, before climbing out of bed to get you a damp towel. The two of you cleaned up in silence. He pulled on boxers and you pulled on underwear and his t-shirt, switching the light off before falling back into bed. His arms rested around you, your chests pressed against each other.

“Thank you for taking me on a date,” you said, catching his eyes with yours, “I’ve never been on one before, but I’m glad I waited for you.” You felt his body tense and his lips pressed tightly together.

“Sweetheart,” he started, and you saw regret fill his eyes.

“I should’ve waited for you. I wish I did,” he admitted, his voice tense. You shook your head and tried to press closer to him, but he pulled away.

“Dean,” you asked, confused, but it was his turn to shake his head.

“I never thought I’d meet you. I always thought this—,” he gestured towards your body, “you— I thought it was impossible. The life I live is not made for soulmates. I never imagined myself living a normal life with my soulmate. I couldn’t even bear the thought of it. So I didn’t.”

He ran a hand down his face, an exhausted sigh escaping his lips. You tugged at his hand, wanting to see him.

“I know that you have more experience than I do, Dean. That doesn’t bother me,” you tried to explain, but he pulled his hand away from yours.

“You don’t even know half of it,” he snapped back, and you pulled back at his sharp tone.

“Then explain it to me,” you demanded, knowing that this conversation had been boiling for a while and that it was only a matter of time before it reared its ugly head again. Dean must’ve known it too, because his eyes softened and he rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

“At first, it was just a bunch of one-night stands,” he started, and you laid stiffly, afraid that he would stop talking if you moved.

“I spent a lot of nights picking up girls in bars. I would flirt with them and take ‘em home. I’d show them a good time and leave before they’d wake up in the morning. It went on like that for years. I didn’t think I’d ever meet you. Hell, I didn’t even know if I’d be alive to meet you.

“But then I met Lisa, and for the first time in my life, I wanted to spend another night with a girl. I ended up spending a whole week at her place. I knew she wasn’t my soulmate. I knew that her soulmate died in a car accident years before. I knew that the universe didn’t perfectly make us for each other, but at the time, I didn’t care. Sam and Dad were on a case and I was alone.

“I thought about her a lot during my time on the road. I wanted to cling onto something— I needed to cling onto something. Years passed, and I still didn’t meet you. Me and Sammy ended up working a case in her city. I met her son.”

Your breath hitched. Her son? Dean turned his head towards you at the sound and saw the panic flash across your eyes.

“Oh no, Ben wasn’t my kid. I swear,” he tried to reassure you, but you didn’t feel comforted at the thought, you merely nodded, gesturing for him to resume his story.

“The apocalypse was approaching, and I was scared. I was weak and scared. I didn’t think I’d make it, and I had accepted the fact that I wouldn’t meet you before the world ended. I thought Lisa and Ben were all I had. I dreamed about her, quite a bit, really. I dreamed about having a life with her, mowing the lawn on Saturdays and picking Ben up from baseball practice. I visited her again before the whole Lucifer-Michael showdown happened. I told her that I’d made arrangements to keep her and Ben safe, and she asked me to stay with her, but I knew that I couldn’t. I had to be there for Sammy. For Bobby.

“But then, Sam was in the cage. I was lost and broken. So I did the only thing that I could think of. I left the hunting life and moved in with Lisa.” His words pierced you like a knife, your heart shattering into pieces. Tears pooled in your eyes.

You weren’t exactly sure why you were upset. It wasn’t his fault that the two of you hadn’t met at the time. It wasn’t his fault that he met Lisa before he met you. It wasn’t his fault that he sought comfort in her when you weren’t there for him. You knew it was no one’s fault, just circumstance, but that didn’t keep you from feeling a sting of betrayal.

“How long?” You whispered, knowing that if you spoke any louder it would crack and you would burst into tears. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to know the answer. He was silent for a moment, and you thought he wouldn’t respond.

“A year,” he said, his voice hoarse, seemingly filled with regret, concern, and pain. Your stomach dropped. A year? He spent a whole year with her. A whole year with her and her son. Their son. It didn’t matter that Dean wasn’t Ben’s biological father, you already knew that Dean loved him like his own. You let out a shaky breath, preparing yourself to ask the question that had been floating around your mind ever since he started.

“Did you love her?”

You couldn’t even meet his eyes. You looked anywhere but him, your eyes roaming over your ceiling instead of the green eyes that were staring at you. He was quiet, and you closed your eyes, feeling tears spill down the side of your face.

“I thought I did, but I don’t know anymore,” came his whispered reply. “In some ways, it probably was love. But not the kind of love that would survive. I couldn’t live a life without hunting. She couldn’t live a life with hunting.”

You winced at his words. The implication that if they were able to compromise, he wouldn’t be laying next to you right now, but next to her. You wished he had just said yes. Maybe it would’ve hurt less.

“Okay,” you said because there was nothing else to say. You contemplated kicking him out of the bed, but you still loved him, and you knew that it would just pain you more. You turned over on your side, your back facing him. You pulled the covers up, wanting them to swallow you whole. There was movement on the bed and you heard the shuffling of sheets, feeling Dean’s warm body come close to yours to hold you, but you tensed up.

“Please don’t,” you whispered, and he stilled before respecting your wishes, retreating back to his side of the bed. You gripped a pillow against your side, hugging it for comfort. You tried to keep your sobs silent, but there was no use hiding them.

You cried for your pain and hurt, wanting to hate Dean, but you couldn’t. You cried for the love lost between the two of you. You cried because you didn’t know if he even wanted you. But most of all, you cried for Dean. You cried for the burdens he’s endured and that you couldn’t be there for him during times of hardship. You cried because you knew that it wasn’t Dean’s fault, yet here you were punishing him because you were really punishing yourself.

As your tears slowed and your breath became steady again, you were exhausted. You were already drifting off to sleep when you felt Dean’s fingers in your hair and a gentle kiss to your forehead. Too tired to argue, you snuggled into his body and let sleep take you away.

Taglist: @akshi8278 @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91 @lanea-1 @slamminmine

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #dean winchester x y/n #reader x dean #reader x dean winchester #y/n x dean winchester #y/n x dean #dean winchester angst #dean angst #dean winchester fluff #dean fluff #supernatural #supernatural series #muffinbeliever

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dracosathenaeum · 4 years ago

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Great Love Story | Final Part | DM

#A/N: Apologies for the long wait, with what went down the other night and overall writers block this took far longer than I expected. I hope this is a satisfying ending for everyone who’s been reading so far!! Let me know what you thought of it overall!! Also this chapter is dedicated to @slytherinwh0re and Voldemort’s feet :3

Warnings: swearing, violence, food, mentions of strangling and sex

Word Count: 2,781

PART 1 | PART 2

Waking up alone in that empty bed had perhaps been worse than when Draco had broken up with you. You had left his room that time thinking he had left you because he had lost all feelings for you. This time, he had left even though you knew of his true feelings, feelings that he couldn’t hide. Jealousy was never easy to hide for Draco, but luckily for you it just showed that he still cared for you.

You had spent days after he had left you with nothing but second thoughts in your head, debating with yourself whether or not he was worth it. You could’ve walked away and let that last night be a mistake, leave it to be the final moment of closure between the two of you (if you could even call it closure).

But no, learning from mistakes apparently wasn’t an option for you.

You just wanted the truth, was what you told yourself as you wrapped a green tie around your neck; not revenge, just the truth.

“Remember all you have to do is walk past Draco and smile at me from across the hall a couple times. He’ll be able to connect the dots from that alone.”

The older Slytherin looked at you with a smirk on his face, “If I knew all I had to do was swap ties with you and walk past Malfoy to have someone do my potions essay for me I would’ve offered my services years ago.” You had been lucky enough to have found (bribed) someone to help you pull the truth from Draco, even if you weren’t too fond of the person himself. You were up for playing the long game though you doubted Draco could resist interfering before long.

You ran your fingers through his soft locks, ruffling them up a little before unbuttoning both of your top buttons to make it seem more realistic. “You know, if you wanted to make it authentic, we could just actually get with each other? I wouldn’t mind rubbing it in Malfoys face that I got with his girl.”

Retracting your hands from his shirt, you grimaced, “This is enough, thank you Adrian.” You were only being polite since he was helping you out; the second you no longer needed him you would make sure he knew you’d never be interested in him.

“Come on, before they all finish eating before we’ve even gone in.” You walked into great hall, head held high and hand gripped in a clammy hold. As much you had hated how Draco’s hands had always been cold, you suddenly found yourself missing them greatly.

You let go of his hand and the both of you walked your separate directions but that was all you needed. You sat down with your friends and watched as Theo pointed out your tie and then the person who had yours. You didn’t even both keeping your gaze on their table for Draco’s reaction, something would come sooner or later.

“y/n, uh, are you sure this is a good idea? I know if sucks, but he’s clearly moved on, I don’t think making him jealous will work when he looks at Pansy like that.”

He hadn’t told you he loved you the other night, nor had he let you say it, but his love language was never with words. The way he held you, the careful touches and well-placed kisses, those were what made you believe there was still hope, and if not, at least an actual explanation rather than fucking you into the oblivion only to leave you before the sun was awake.

You knew he loved you still, but perhaps there were now two in his heart. Your eyes wondered back to the Slytherin table, expecting him to be glaring holes into the side of your head or arguing with the boy who had your tie around his neck, but no. He had his eyes trained on Pansy’s eyes, his fingers playing with a strand of her perfect hair. Grace was right, you had no chance when he was looking at Pansy with stars in his eyes. Though perhaps that was your answer itself. Your plan had been perfect, you had just executed it around the wrong people.

He had fucked up once, he wasn’t about to do so again; not when the stakes were so high. His one moment of jealousy causing him to lose control had only furthered his resolve to not do so again. It simply wasn’t worth the risk.

He would only take partial blame though, his twit of a partner clearly wasn’t as sneaky as she had claimed to be, one slip up each was already more than allowed and although they both knew, it seemed only Draco was taking it seriously.

Talking to Pansy had been less than helpful, “She could’ve joined in.” being her only response, her red painted lips curling into a smile that made something in his stomach tighten. Perhaps he was the fool to expect more from her.

Her shortcomings and the disappointment he felt of his own lack of self-control had perhaps been the only thing to stop him from punching the shit eating grin off the rat who you had decided to use to pull a reaction from him.

He had been with you just three nights ago and he knew you, knew you inside and out. The hickeys on your neck were his marks and all 3 of you knew that; swapping ties with some poor sucker and ruffling his hair wasn’t going break him. Not by a long shot.

It had taken him everything that night outside the room of requirement to not push you in and take you until you remembered you could only feel that way for him, yet he had managed to spit out the word whore and swallow the instant regret, grimacing at the memory of your palm striking his face.

He had done all that to have his weak heart ruin it when he found you with Theo.

He had almost ruined everything.

But yet again his weak, traitorous heart failed him when he found himself with his fist across someone’s face.

You had kept your eyes trained on the food in front of you to prevent the temptation of causing yourself any more pain, instead working your brain on how best to get Draco alone and on how best to procure some veritaserum (was that even legal?).

Throwing back the last of your pumpkin juice, you gave a quick goodbye to your friends before you all but ran to the library in attempts to look for some answers. Well you had tried getting to the library; you had been barely halfway through the great hall when Adrian had seemingly appeared from thin air, his hand on your upper arm pulling you to a stop.

“So when do I get my compensation for this favour?”

You didn’t know what it was, but the way he looked and spoke to you had the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. He had leant in, warm puffs of air blowing across your ear as he spoke to you. Not the kind that had you melting in Draco’s arm, but the kind that had you wanting to turn and run, but his bruising hold on your arm wasn’t about to let that happen.

“The Slytherin prince looks like he’s about to murder me, I think I deserve more than an essay. Let me fuck you and we’ll call it even.”

The joy in your chest from hearing that your plan had worked was quickly replaced with the most revoting feeling, you physically gagged and wondered why no one intervened as you had physically recoiled from him. Draco may not have been many people’s first picks, you wouldn’t try to hide his faults, but he at least had some respect and dignity.

Your mouth fell open, not sure if you should slap him across the face or swear at him until he got the point.

“The audacity-”

“If I ever see you within 100 meters of her again, I’ll make sure you’ll never be able to fuck again.” Yet again another Slytherin has seemingly appeared from thin air, cutting off you off before you could even say what you wanted to say. Adrian had been smart enough to let go of you the second he had heard Draco’s voice, but it didn’t make up for the fact he had been stupid enough to act.

You strode out the doors of the great hall as soon as you remembered how to use your legs, catching Draco’s his fist connecting with Adrian’s face out of the corner of your eye; the sickening crack of the collision was enough to bring a smile back on your face. That and the fact Draco had yet again shown his true colours, now you just needed to know why he was hell bent on hiding them and hurting you both.

You hadn’t realised how lost in your own thoughts you had been in until you found yourself in the courtyard with a blonde Ravenclaw waving happily at you.

“Hi y/n! Isn’t it beautiful out today? I wanted to take Pansy on a picnic, but you understand why that’s not quite possible yet.” You hadn’t expected to run into Luna so soon, though you avoiding her out of sheer embarrassment had definitely been a major factor of that.

“You’re okay being the ‘other woman’? Luna you deserve so much more than that.” The two of you weren’t particularly close (other than when you had seen her being sent to heaven by Pansy’s fingers), but she felt an obligation like any other person might’ve.

“Other woman? I thought Pansy said you two had made up again? They're just faking it for you-know-who. I guess Draco had to be stricter since he has his secret task, but it’s odd he’s taking so long to tell you.”

You blinked. You remembered how to breathe again and then the anger came.

“I have to go but thank you Luna, I owe you.” You didn’t have time to come up with a speech or a plan, you would just find him and do whatever your impulses led to.

You were going to make him repent for every second lost, for every ounce of heart ache you felt and then you’d have him beg for you, if you managed to not strangle him first that was.

You ended up pounding on the doors to the dungeons when he had been nowhere else. With each place you searched resulting with him not being there, your anger built, the frustration worse than it had ever been.

“Jeez woman, is someone dead?”

“No but with that look it looks like someone’s about to be.”

The doors had opened revealing a far too happy Pansy and Theo, clearly enjoying how mad you seemed to be. You didn’t waste a second, pushing past the both of them to see Draco sat casually on one of the leather sofas, clearly bragging about how he had just punched Adrian.

“You had no right!”

As if it wasn’t enough that The Dark Lord was walking around his home barefoot and threatening his family’s lives; his ex-girlfriend was now going to kill him. Well, he’d rather die by her hands than his any day.

“You still haven’t told her?” You hadn’t even heard Pansy come up behind you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. For everyone else it seemed like a jealous ex-girlfriend causing drama, a sharp look from Draco had sent everyone scrambling as he mumbled a silencing charm under his breath.

“If you want me to apologise for punching Pucey, I would rather you slap me again.” He was still lying to you. Your hands curled around his collar, pulling him up from his casual lounging across the sofa.

“Luna told me everything. You had no right to make that kind of decision for me. Who else knew?” You watched as the colour drained from his face, you turned to see Pansy, Theo and Blaise quickly avert their gazes. The three of them clearly thought they would be watching you shout at Draco for punching Adrian as they quickly found other places to be once they realised your true intentions.

“Can we actually talk now without you running off with your so-called girlfriend who has been dating another woman and without you only paying attention to me when you deem necessary?” Draco had slumped back onto the green leather, hand dragging over his face as he refused to meet your gaze again, the expression on his face a far cry from what it had been just moments ago.

“I can’t explain everything to you. Can you just trust that I’m doing what’s best for you? For us.”

If his voice hadn’t been so shaky, if his body hadn’t trembled like is had when he was 13 as you held him against you as he cried about the passing of his grandfather, you might not have decided to not push further.

So Harry was right, though some part of you had always known, after all in what world would Harry Potter make something like that up. You had just deluded yourself into thinking Draco wouldn’t be dragged into it. “I know Draco. You don’t have to say anything you can’t, but I know.”

His eyes whipped up to meet yours, clearly not expecting that response from you. You looked at him with the same fierce gaze he loved and for a second he thought you’d slap him again.

He thought you’d hit him and run or even worse, you’d stay.

“If this wasn’t the best possible option, I wouldn’t have chosen it, you have to understand that. It was better than the alternative of losing you and my parents. Do you know what he does to people? Do you know how he tears them apart? How he would rip your mind into shreds and then leave you with just enough life to watch him do the same to everyone else you care about.”

You stayed silent; you hadn’t thought about the bigger the picture this whole time, focusing only on you and your insignificant feelings.

“I refuse to put you at risk. If I had to make a choice; if I had to choose between saving you or my parents, I don’t know who I’d choose and that terrifies me. I can lose you and try to move on or find you again, but I can’t abandon my parents without signing their death warrants.” His words hurt. There was no masking that, but you knew he was right, he was making the most logical decision and you could not fault him for it, no matter how much your heart objected.

You just looked at him for a tense second, your brain trying to piece together what to say and what to think. Life had not prepared you for this moment.

“But the way you looked at her-“

“Looked at who?”

“Pansy.”

“I was imagining you.”

Your cheeks flushed with warmth, unsure if it was embarrassment, relief or anger. His fingers reached for yours, the familiarity of his wrapped around yours loosened the ball of nerves in your stomach just a little.

“Okay. Go.”

“What?” His fingers tightened their grip on your hand.

“I’ll wait until after the war; but you better find yourself on the right side. Just stay alive and I’ll find you.”

“And if I’m in Azkaban?” a voice so small you almost didn’t hear it.

“I don’t believe you could do anything horrific enough to end up in Azkaban; but even so, you better make some right choices because you hold our future in your hands Malfoy.”

He looked at you as though you had gone mad, and frankly you might’ve. After all, who would wait for their ex-boyfriend after finding out they were a death eater?

“You cannot be serious.”

“I would wait a lifetime for you.”

It had been those very words that had given him hope, something he didn’t think he would ever have again after taking the mark. He had not convinced his father to reconsider and that was something he would have to live for the rest of his life; but he had his mother. A mother’s love would prove yet again to be a saving grace.

The two of you may not have rebuilt what you had until years after, but when it came to making that all important choice, he had chosen the right one.

TAGLIST: @bbeauttyybbx @pipppaaaaalouisee @theslytherinprincessworld @fangirl-3d2y @tttyrus @scriptingslytherin @justmimithings @purpleskymalfoy @minigigglybabi @505weasleys @secretaccshh @obbrssession @whatwoulddracodo @thatoneniceslytherin @thehumanistsdiary @mariah-can-dream @futureofanthropology @ccabian @tobarmaidswhodontcount @dray-cookies @xuckduck @dreamyginny @dracofeltonmalfoy @lord-byron @inglourious-imagines @audreythehufflepuff @beiahadid @moonlightorbit @imonlyherecauseimbored @dracosgoodgirl @dreaming-about-fanfictions @goldenxreid @avengers-end-me @sad-bitch-h0ur @zhangyixingxing1 @yourenotafailureoverall @pastelpuffbar @miso-tang @pixiedustsupplyco @harry-and-draco-loves @tsukibaby @dracoswhore007 @hogwartslut @mischiefisbeingmanaged @raylovessarcasm @drxcomvlfx @dracosballs @standingandstaring @its-chickenwing-450 @iamproudtobeaslytherin @mischiefisbeingmanaged @pxroxide-prinxcesss @slytherinxraven @jinnbie @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @Utzelh8 @gloryekaterina @capkatie @jquick-18 @imcedricdiggorys @osterfieldnholland @explxsion @big-galaxy-chaos @malfoycrave @softlyqoos @krazykendraisnotinsane @minsuuwu @lumlfy @mllzhxrrs44 @weasleyis0urking @slytherinwh0re @gwlvr @m3ssytrash @aubreyanna02 @akaaaaashiiii @carrobrumbrum @dracoswift @bitchybeatle @samnblack @dumspirospero-1 @dracomalfoyswifeee @sydnee-kom-spacekru

Those who asked for part 3!: @dracoxmgg @em2604 @gabiconstellation @azkabanlexi @indieslytherin @sushiims @sincerlymalfoy

#Draco x reader #draco malfoy #harry potter #Draco Malfoy x reader #draco x y/n #Draco Malfoy x y/n #Draco Malfoy one shot #draco one shot

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lavendertales · 4 years ago

Text

Twisted (Javier Peña x f!reader)

Part 13 of Lay It On Me series**

summary: when you try to entangle Steve in your game with Vanessa, he takes matters into his own hands.

word count: 4.6k

WARNINGS: threesome, face sitting, fingering, cunnilingus, piv (unprotected), alcohol.

AGELESS/EMPTY BLOGS & MINORS WILL BE BLOCKED!

gif: @capt-wilson

series masterlist | AO3 | playlist

“¿Nos vemos el viernes?”

“Sí. Ya sabes dónde encontrarme.”

I’ll see you on Friday?

Yes. You know where to find me.

Vanessa kindly refused breakfast altogether, but settled for a fiery kiss from you before she left. You stared in a certain awe as she left, sitting in the middle of the kitchen, dressed with an over-sized blouse you kept from an almost forgotten one night stand last year.

You ate your bowl of cereal fast, eager to drink your coffee and take something for that pestering headache. The hangover was worth it this time though. Remnants of last night’s touches and sounds were embedded into your brain, tainting your memory in the most unexpectedly pleasant way. You huffed, finding some strange comfort in reminiscing last night’s events.

You grunted when you heard a knock on the door. You opened it cautiously, only to be met with Steve’s skeptical and interrogation-ready look, and you already knew you were going to dislike the conversation in its entirety.

“Whatever it is, just don’t be too loud. Head’s killing me,” was your welcoming line.

“Had fun last night?”

“Come on, Steve, don’t be like this. You’re not my dad. Applications for other nicknames, however, are open for debating, but otherwise—“

You giggled when Steve avoided your glare for a second, appearing flustered.

“I just walked by that girl, uh—Vanessa. Did she—did you two—?”

“What?”

You took a sip from your coffee, staring at him with an insane dare. The continuation you had been waiting on failed to appear, so you resumed your own.

“You’re a grownup, you can say it. Also, why do you know her name?”

“I live right across the hall from Javi. Sometimes I hear things I don’t wanna hear.”

You frowned, oddly entertained by the exchange. “I mean… I know that he doesn’t scream the names of the women he’s sleeping with, so I am not sure how would you know her name and how she looks like unless—”

“I saw her at a brothel. For an investigation!”

“Okay, calm down. Anyway, I slept with her, yes. And it was absolutely amazing. No wonder she was—”

“You’re turning into Javi.”

Your smile faded. You weren’t sure why his words stung, because they really shouldn’t, and yet they still did.

“You think he’s the only one who gets to sleep around?”

“No, I just—”

“I’ve been doing this for the past eleven years, Steve. I am, as you said, like him. This is what I’ve been doing for over a decade, and it’s been working just fine. So the real question is, why are you up in business like this?”

“Because Connie left me.”

You frowned again, headache suddenly gone. There was something devastating about Steve’s realization being said out loud that made you nervous.

“Yes, I’m gonna play the divorce card. The love of my life is gone, back in the States because we simply couldn’t make it work anymore. And all I do is work. I work day and night to save the innocent, to annihilate this drug paradise that we’re living in, to end the crimes and do good, and if I don’t do that… I’m alone and empty. And seeing you two idiots lying to yourselves about this fuck buddies arrangement that it ‘will work out’ is fucking terrible. Newsflash: it never works out.”

“I know. That’s why we stopped.”

“Listen, I care about both you idiots, and the reason why I’m playing the divorce card is to make you understand that every moment you get to spend with a loved one should be fucking treasured because it could be gone in a second. We’re in the middle of a fucking war, and you two got a shot at something real and good!”

“We’re facing death every single day and you expect us to—to hold hands or what??”

“What the hell is up with you and death?”

“I’ve done my mourning, Murphy! I have mourned… plenty.”

Steve stared at you perplexed, unsure of what to do or say. A sense of guilt rushed through him, freezing his extremities. He was more than taken aback by your outburst, the tremor in your jaw and hands.

“Is this about… your last relationship?” he timidly asked. “Is that… how it ended?”

“It ended with him dead. Shot in the head and in the heart. I have had to bury my uncle, my father, my boyfriend and my best friend in the time span of six years. I am fucking tired. Sick and tired. Just like I’m tired of hating him with every fiber and cell in my being, tired of being worried and scared shitless that he might not come back after every operation, or that he’ll come back in pieces that no one will be able to glue back together. I am… done. I don’t need this, and I don’t want it. So I’ll have my fun as I see fit.”

Steve gulped. The raw honesty in your speech baffled him and sent shivers down his spine. He decided it was better to stop interfering with either one of you and just let you two run your natural course.

If there was any at all.

He offered you a ride to the office, which you accepted in a heartbeat, avoiding any further sensitive topic. Steve was careful to not even mention Javier’s name. He couldn’t help but notice the fact that you yourself avoided it, which could only mean to him that you were beyond hurt. Hurt which you ardently refused to expose.

“I’m sorry about the people you’ve lost,” Steve said after a while.

You looked straight ahead, silent for a dead moment.

“You know, if you need a palate cleanser, which I’m guessing you do, I’m meeting with Vanessa again on Friday night. Some drinks, then back to my place. In case you wanna swing by.”

Steve’s foot nearly went through the brake paddle. His body went cold and stiff, barely attentive to the road anymore.

“What did you just say?”

There was no way you meant that.

No way you said those words, in that order, in a more than your usual playful manner.

That was the entire point of your friendship. It was platonic, playful and supportive.

“Come on. It’s been… what, eight months of solitude?”

“Going strong on eleven, but who’s counting.”

“See? A palate cleanser would do you good.”

He parked in front of the office building—granted, with much difficulty—”and simply stared at you, in absolute dismay.

“I—I don’t see how that would—”

“It’s a friend helping another friend in clear need.”

“I’m doing just fine. Right now it’s a woman trying to seduce a hardworking, kinda scared and innocent man.”

“Innocent. Really?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“¿Como si nunca hubieras pensado en una oportunidad como ésta? ¿Nunca has pensado en dar placer a dos mujeres al mismo tiempo? ¿Nunca te has imaginado a alguna de las guapas chicas de Javier ayudándote?”

Like you’ve never thought about an opportunity like this? You’ve never thought about casually pleasuring two women at the same time? You never imagined any of Javier’s pretty girls helping you out?

Steve gulped, trying to shift in the seat, but every position seemed uncomfortable after that. It shouldn’t have been normal to react that way at your friend’s mother tongue.

But pair it with the look in your eyes, the utter filthy lust in your voice and you could easily cause an erection.

Exhibit A.

“I—I’ve never heard you speak Spanish like… that. And it kinda messes with me, so—”

“¿Cómo qué? ¿Como si todos los americanos escucharan el español? ¿Estrictamente seductor y sexy?”

Like what? Like all you Americans hear Spanish? Strictly seductive and sexy?

“O—Okay, I heard you say sexy that one time, but… yes to whatever you just said.”

“Trujillo was right. You are bad at Spanish.”

Steve actually chuckled, which made the entire situation much more comfortable—mentally, at least. He didn’t even look at you while you got out of the car and leaned through the window briefly.

“Think about it,” you winked. “Friday.”

“Why me?”

Surprised, you leaned back in, unwilling to spill your guts to the entire parking lot, regardless of how empty it might’ve looked.

“It’s all for good fun. It’s just sex. Don’t overthink it.”

But he did overthink it. How could he not? You’ve always supported him and helped him get back on his feet however you could and you liked to play pretend when saying some ridiculous, over-the-top pickup lines on him that would crack him up, just to lift his morale.

But this time, you looked dead serious. And it freaked him out.

How deep were your wounds running that you turned to Steve, your friend, for relief?

He didn’t want to believe that you could possibly be that affected, that down badly so as to want sex from the closest person in your already small circle of trusted people.

What freaked him out more was the fact that he considered it. For a simple moment, lacking common sense and cautionary ways of thinking, Steve thought about taking you up on your offer.

It had been a very rough few months for him as well. He worked himself to exhaustion, sleep deprivation and nausea, but it was the one thing that kept him going. The idea that he could be one of the people who put an end to Pablo Escobar got him out of bed in the morning.

It’s just sex, you told him.

Except it wasn’t.

But he still considered it. You were clearly in need for some relief—and Lord knows he was, too—it was in good faith and fun, trusting and casual, and you were... well, you. His friend, as stunning and incredible as always.

And he knew better than trying yet again to bring you back with your feet on the ground. You were too stubborn to listen, too… much too Javi. He had already tried and failed miserably. Of course he couldn’t possibly control or have a say in how you led your life, but at the very least he could try to get you and Javier to talk things through.

The only question was, how the hell was he supposed to do that?

Javier seemed to have moved permanently in the conference room. Except the occasional dozing off at the desk in front of the screen, headphones still on his head, Steve didn’t recall the last time his friend had slept. He didn’t even see Javier going into his apartment, whether day or night. He knew that Javier was still in a bit of a shock after Trujillo’s passing, but the punishment he was inflicting over himself was more than torturous. And despite all of his negativity, Steve saw the reason behind his actions clearer than ever.

How could he have missed that? How could he have not seen earlier that all of that heated bickering, all of the arguments and the nights you both spent at the office under the lame pretext of “working late” were, in fact, the road to a much deeper connection between you two?

No one could’ve seen it coming, though. You’ve made it clear from the start that you despised Javier and he despised you, and the entire office played along your masterfully orchestrated charade. You all bought into it, had fallen for the unintentional trick.

Steve began to wonder if there was ever a time when you truly hated Javier, or vice versa.

He approached Javier cautiously when he came into the office, taking a seat right next to him and inspecting him up close before even mumbling anything to him.

“What took you so long?” Javier cooed.

“Weird morning.”

Javier didn’t bother with further questions, and Steve was thankful. The latter tried to compose his thoughts into a coherent phrase that would not require any additional inquiries.

“How you doin’ today?”

Javier’s eyes narrowed and he threw him one of his trademark cold glares, letting Steve know instantly that he’d talk just about anything else. Absolutely anything else.

“Trying to catch bad guys, Murphy,” he said. “Just like yesterday. And the day before that. And every day in my fucking life for the past ten years.”

“Right. Speaking of bad guys, how long are you gonna play that part?”

This time Steve had Javier’s undivided attention. Javier frowned in the slightest, but fully aware of what he was referencing. Of course he knew. It was always the same thing.

Murphy knows.

It didn’t matter how; he sure knew, and Javier was already exhausted thinking of the ways his friend was gonna try to talk some sense into him.

“Get straight to your point,” he added grudgingly.

“We both know you’re a fucking mess, and we both know what’s causing it.”

“The fact that we have the most prolific drug dealer still on the loose, maybe? Or too many fucking questions from someone who just won’t quit?”

“This shit is not about Escobar. The least you could do is man up and own that fact.”

Javier remained silent for a little while, pretending to study the radio frequencies laid out before his tired eyes.

Sure he knew the reason behind all of his erratic behavior. But why did Steve know? Did you voluntarily come clean to him? Did you let it slip while he was with you? Why was he with you so much? Sure, he was friendly and all that stuff but—why?

The question was ridiculous. Of course he knew why. You were gorgeous. Competent, determined, feisty and dominant—but oh, how willing at times if the right person knew how to go about—

It was silly of him to think of himself as “the right person”. He was anything but that. And you were going to leave soon, so there was no point in having any of those thoughts.

“If you would stop hiding in here and stop pretending like—”

“Murphy—don’t. Drop it. Whatever you think you’re onto, you’re not.”

“All I’m saying is—”

“I don’t fucking care, okay?”

Javier was pissed. He gritted his teeth, clenched his fists and tried to maintain a calm aura in front of Horacio who was lurking around, scooping for any valuable piece of information.

“Just listen to me,” Steve muttered, visibly annoyed as well. “She has this… thing, on Friday… she’s—fucking hell, I don’t even know how to put it—”

“Straight.”

“She has this… thing, going on Friday, uh—a meeting, let’s call it. She—she said I could join but here’s the thing—”

Javier’s mind began to spin, and conclusions somehow began to be drawn by themselves, all on their own. He instantly recognized where his friend was headed with that, the reason why he seemed so hesitant and flustered.

Of course she’d go for Murphy.

“Okay, you can… stop right there. You should go,” Javier replied eventually, trying to get Steve out of his own misery.

“That’s not what I—wait, what?”

“You should go. Sounds like fun.”

Steve frowned. “It’s not what you think—”

“You could use a palate cleanser. She might clean it up real nice for you.”

Those two really are so much alike, fuck.

Javier tapped him on the shoulder and returned to his screen. There were dozens of images in his mind that supported his earlier statement, but none that he felt like sharing with Steve.

He didn’t want to share those with anyone.

And suddenly, out of the blue, at nine o’clock in the goddamn morning, he started to crave.

It felt like an eternity since he’d seen your face, since he heard you, since he looked at you, but all the while he had to remember that Escobar was still on the loose and that you were still leaving. You were leaving. You were going to disappear out of his life as abruptly as you had entered it.

He had nothing else to offer than what he already gave.

The one drink policy only turned into several, and there you were again, vaguely intoxicated by the alcohol in swimming in your veins now and Vanessa’s scent.

The two of you had been drinking for the past two hours and it was a wonderful time, like you haven’t had in quite some time. Both of your faces were flushed, you were giggling in tandem as your hands were roaming around each other relentlessly, talking about each other’s life and trying to find some sort of comfort in what the other is saying.

Life hadn’t been too kind on Vanessa, you learned in your tipsiness. But you couldn’t help but reciprocate with her feelings as you openly discussed your vulnerabilities and weaknesses.

“¿Hay alguien especial en tu vida?” she asked you carelessly almost.

Anyone special in your life?

No was the obvious answer. No, of course there was no one special. He was not special. What could it have been so special about him anyway? The way your body trembled when he touched you? The way you simply could not get enough when he thrust inside you, buried in you as deep as possible? The way he looked at you whenever you were around, making you feel as if you were the only one in the room? Or the way your silly self seriously considered the unattainable ideal that there could never be anything more than simple relief between you and him?

“Ni siquiera un poco,” you replied to her.

Not even a little.

“¿Qué, alguien tan guapa como tú?” Vanessa teased.

What, someone as gorgeous as you?

Gorgeous.

“No quiero estar con alguien. Sólo necesito... un poco de medicina para el dolor.”

I don’t want to be with someone. I just need… some pain medicine.

“Eso se puede arreglar.”

That can be arranged.

You could say nothing else as Vanessa’s mouth pressed up against yours, engaging into a tender, deep kiss. Something in the way she moved felt sincere and welcoming, despite the thought at the back of your mind that she had been had by many before you.

But it didn’t matter one bit right now.

She was just what you needed.

Pain medicine.

Her body collided on top of yours in an instant, rubbing her pretty lingerie against yours as her long, curly hair brushes up against your face. She straddled your lap ever so comfortably and inviting; you felt yourself getting wetter by the second, and your drunken mind whispered to you to just undress her already, feel her up as best as you could and take her in your mouth.

But the goddamn knock on the door prevented you from continuing your train of thoughts and actions.

Grunting, you remained flat on the bed while Vanessa kindly got up, trying not to stumble or trip over her own feet and answers the door.

“Ese debe ser mi amigo, Steve. Lo invité a venir,” you reminded her.

That must be my friend, Steve. I invited him over.

“Vanessa.”

The tone was husky, cold to a certain extent and painfully familiar. You lifted your head from the couch and stared, utterly dazed.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you managed to ask.

Javier stared at you in your underwear, unfazed, and blinked once before leaning against the doorframe, eyes glued to Vanessa’s instead.

“No esperaba verte aquí, Javi. ¿Qué quieres? Estamos un poco ocupadas,” Vanessa cut him shortly.

I didn’t expect to see you here, Javi. What do you want? We’re a bit busy.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you repeated yourself, unable to move from the couch.

Javier tugged at his jacket, inhaling deeply and sporting an indifferent facial expression. “Murphy me pidió—en realidad, me obligó—a comprobar cómo estabas. Dijo que estaba preocupado por ti.”

Murphy asked me—actually, forced me—to check up on you. He said he was worried about you.

You weren’t certain whether you should be appreciative of Steve and how much care he took of you, even from afar, or pissed that he sent Javier, of all people, to check up on you. You were doing just fine. You didn’t need anyone to check on you like you were some helpless little baby. You were just having some fun. You were doing exactly what Javier had been doing for years and yet there you were, being forced to cut it short, and for what reason?

“Vete.”

Get out.

You addressed Javier directly for what felt like the first time in forever, and the vicious way he looked at you made it not at all easier on you. You sounded cruel and unforgiving and you didn’t mean to sound any other way, but—

But.

“Puede quedarse si quiere,” Vanessa interfered, much to your surprise.

He can stay if he wants to.

Now, you knew Javier’s habits a little too well. You were acquainted with his way of life and how he indulged into his guilty pleasures. And you somehow knew already that an opportunity like that one, the one you had originally propositioned to Steve, would not be refused by someone as insatiable and selfish as Javier Peña.

Fucking hell, were you actually considering that? Were you seriously debating… all of that?

Javier entered the apartment at Vanessa’s gesture, taking a long look around. He’d been there once before, and you loathed how he acted as if he hadn’t. But he was a damn good actor, you had to give him that.

“Sé que quieres que se quede, cariño,” Vanessa told you.

I know you want him to stay.

“¿Y si no quiero que se quede? ¿Y si—”

What if I don’t want him to stay? What if—

What if you would just stop fucking lying?

“¿Qué quieres que haga?”

What do you want me to do?

This time, Javier was strictly addressing you. He seemed to be disregarding Vanessa’s presence altogether, at least for a brief moment. He only looked at you, steps intently approaching you. You were at a crossroads of course, because… fuck, Vanessa was right there, perfectly available and willing to do whatever it was that you wanted her to do, no strings attached, no name given from your side…

And then Javier—

Javier.

The second that never seemed to end was when he walked up to you, staring down on you with those damned brown, puppy eyes, sparkling with desire and a little bit of something else. You remarked his fingers twitching in his palm as if forcing themselves to not make a move.

“¿Qué diablos es lo que quieres?” you demanded from him.

What the hell is it that you want from me?

There was a little twitch in his leg, a little restlessness betrayed by his entire language which led you to believe he might’ve not been entirely sober either. But regardless, you chose to be selfish that night.

“Otro momento sin odio. Jugando a fingir.”

Another moment with no hate. Playing pretend.

When you finally nodded, almost exasperated and much too aroused for a proper response, Javier turned towards Vanessa, sporting nothing but sheer dominance, just like it all started out in your head. “No se puede tocar. No la toques.”

No touching. You don’t touch her.

If the booze wouldn’t have been fogging your mind, you would’ve been 100% sure that you were imagining that. Even Vanessa seemed rather bewildered, but she didn’t question it.

Unlike yourself.

“¿Por qué dices—qué?”

Why would you say—what?

“Esa es la regla básica. No te toca. Ese es mi trabajo.”

That’s the ground rule. She doesn’t touch you. That’s my job.

“¿Cómo quieres que esté con ella entonces, Javi?”

How do you want me to be with her then, Javi?

“Encima de su cara.”

On top of her face.

Fuck.

Javier removed his leather jacket and shirt, unbuckling his pants and proceeding to remove your underwear as well. You shivered, the sudden thought and remnant of the feeling Javier offered to you whilst being in your body’s proximity making you significantly wetter than before.

The feeling of the underwear’s soft fabric rubbing gently, barely, over your thighs and down to your ankles, swung past them nearly caused you to moan. You didn’t really have the time to focus on one thing because the other hit you instantaneously: Vanessa spread her thighs across either sides of your face and her core pressed down on your mouth. Your tongue slithered naturally over her folds, playing no games and wasting no time in running across her slit, smiling against her pussy when she let out a soft moan. Your hands straddled her thighs, lowering her as much as possible on your face as you began to eat her out. You could only focus on that for a little while until, inevitably, you imploded.

The shattering moment when Javier thrust inside you caused you to moan, the vibration of your voice and excitement in your tone causing Vanessa to rock herself a little messier on your face. Javier’s pace was neither slow nor rough; it was an odd mixture of the two, one you never felt before and one that you couldn’t quite grasp. Of course, it could’ve also been the combination of his thrusts and Vanessa’s movements on your mouth that fogged your mind altogether, offering your body a cocktail of sensations. Vanessa’s moans were distracting by themselves, but the incomparable feeling of having Javier deep inside you again was the truly devastating factor which helped build your orgasm fast.

Neither said anything, really. Aside the occasional affirmations and curses, nothing verbal came out of either one of them, but you didn’t mind or care. You could not have cared less.

The latent buildup, the sounds, Javier’s hold over your hips as he pushed himself in you and Vanessa riding her own orgasm on top of your face, all of that plotted against your sanity; the rush of your own orgasm hitting you, hard, shaking under Vanessa and at Javier’s mercy. And in that moment, as your body burned alive seemingly, all you wanted to do was to look at him. You wanted to see him, to see his reactions, his eyes, all of him.

But you saw none of that. You saw instead a sea of brown curls atop your face as Vanessa eventually hovered above you, kissing you. You heard a grunt somewhere down below, your walls still clenched around Javier’s cock, and you almost squirmed.

“Dije que no se tocara,” his husky voice commanded.

I said no touching.

You had no clue from where did that possessiveness came from or why was he doing it in the first place. Vanessa seemed to succumb to his command, as she instantly retracted her hands from your shoulders. You noticed Javier at last, pulling out of you and dipping his head in between your legs, sending you into a manic overdrive.

“¿Qué debo hacer entonces?” she complained.

What am I supposed to do then?

Javier sighed, his tongue and fingers leaving your pussy temporarily. “No lo sé. Vete, por lo que me importa.”

I don’t know. Leave, for all I care.

Leave? Did he ask her to leave?

No way she’s just gonna—

But she did.

You didn’t truly realize when it happened, but it did: Vanessa disappeared sometime during the night when all you could really feel was Javier’s mouth on you, making you cum on his fingers on his command, taking a selfish pleasure in the way your body reacted to his touches. Your moans were more addictive than his beloved nicotine and alcohol, and you had no idea how long you stood there with your legs spread, him in between, making you cum for what felt like an eternity.

You drifted into a deep sleep eventually, unsure if Javier was still going down or you or sliding himself or his fingers inside of you. You didn’t feel anything at all after a while.

Nothing at all.

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wulfies-kpop-fanfics · 4 years ago

Text

Popsicle → Nakamoto Yuta

↳ Pairing: Yuta/reader | smut

↳ Warnings: pure PWP, dirty talk, oral, face fucking

↳ Word count: 2,915

⁙ Summary: On a hot day during a vacation in Japan, Yuta becomes enamoured when he remembers that you’re one of the people that doesn’t bite their popsicles.

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"Want one?"

Yuta looks away from the television, noticing that you are standing above him, skin glistening with sweat and holding out an unwrapped popsicle toward him. He nods appreciatively, taking it from you and realizing it's already started to melt.

The hot Japanese summer permeated the little Airbnb you and Yuta were staying in, the air conditioning had gone out in the night. June bugs sang through the screen in the living room, the patio door having been opened to let in what little fresh breeze there was.

"Thank you," he says, immediately biting the red tip of the popsicle off. He sighed in relief, "if only the ac didn't go out on the hottest day of the year so far," Yuta complains, watching tentatively as you plop down on the couch next to him, hoping to catch some of the cooler drafts from one of the many fans strewn about the floor.

"I agree, but at least we have the fans."

Yuta hummed in agreement, nearly turning his attention back to a rerun of Dragon Ball Z, but decided not to as soon as you also began to eat your icy treat. If only your vacation had gone like Yuta had planned- then he would be with his family, showing you off to them and meeting with his mother in private to get her engagement ring resized to fit your finger. However, the two of you were stuck here, basking in a heatwave where nobody was advised to go outside at all.

You were dressed in the skimpiest outfit you could muster without looking too indecent- a light neon green tank top and blue cloth mini shorts. Even if you were sweating and panting in the heat, your appearance made Yuta's stomach flip.

Yuta was happy that there were a few popsicles left in the freezer, whatever was able to stay any sort of heat was welcome, popsicles being even more so. They were sweet, cold, and cheap. It kept his mind off of you- at least that's what he told himself.

There has always been a debate on the best way to eat a popsicle- especially your favourites: rockets. You either bit down and endured each flavour until you got to your favourite or you licked and sucked on it, dying your tongue and lips fully in red before you even reached the white section.

Yuta always preferred to bite his, while your method was the exact opposite. It was almost like you were trying to torture him; utterly consumed by the television while you practically shoved the entire thing down your throat and then brought it back up with an audible pop of your lips like it was nothing. Red dripped past your lips, but you managed to swipe the juice away with your tongue before it trickled down your chin.

The more he watched, the more his imagination warped what really was in your mouth.

"Yuta-kun, you're staring," you still have the popsicle resting on your lips, tilting your head in curiosity at your red-haired boyfriend. His popsicle was almost half-melted now, sticky sugar and flavouring running down his hands. His eyes widen and his face goes red, quickly looking away from you. You knew how it made him weak when you used that suffix.

"Sorry," he says quickly, running his tongue along his fingers and up to the melting treat when he bites down on it again.

"It's okay," you waive it off quickly, smiling. "I was wondering how your teeth can handle chewing on a popsicle," you say, utterly oblivious to what was going on in your boyfriend's mind - taking the entire popsicle into your mouth again, humming in contentment.

A shrug is his only response, taking in a deep breath through his nose as he bit down again, harder this time, and he wouldn't have cared if the stick snapped. He hopes with all of his might that you don't look down at his tight jean shorts- he was embarrassingly fully aware that he was already getting hard.

The room goes silent again save for the television and the white noise of the fans. Once he knows you're absorbed in the show again, Yuta goes right back to staring at you. He pulls the last piece of his popsicle off the stick and chews on it, while you're just starting the blue section of yours. You're still sucking on it lovingly, your lips dyed a deep red; as if you had just applied a fresh coat of lipstick.

Your tongue paid attention to the underside of the popsicle first, then brought the whole thing into your mouth, cheeks sucked in for but a few seconds before you brought it back out, swallowing audibly and licking your lips with a satisfied hum.

The longer he watched, the tighter his pants felt and the tighter his pants felt, the more uncomfortable he got. It wasn't until he was practically squirming in his spot that you looked over again, concerned.

"Is the heat getting to you, Yuta?" You ask sweetly, finishing off the last of your own popsicle, leaving the stick in your mouth for a moment before gingerly pulling it out.

"You could say that," he said stiffly, unsure if he should just bite the bullet and tell you what he wanted.

You hummed sympathetically, standing. "Maybe you should go into the bedroom and keep the lights off. I'll bring the biggest fan in. I don't want you to get heatstroke," you don't even wait for him to nod before gently taking his popsicle stick and turning to pad into the kitchen. Yuta had to hold back a groan when he noticed the creases where your thighs met your ass were visible beneath the hem of your shorts.

Yuta quickly stands and makes it into your shared bedroom, flicking off the lights and closing the curtains, blocking the rays of warm sunshine as best he could. He gets some relief from the heat when he lies down face first on the floor, the wood beneath him thankfully hadn't absorbed much heat.

His situation felt much worse as he lay, his pelvis pressed right up against the floor. He would have moved to lie on his back if the floor weren't so cool. He then closed his eyes to wonder how long you were going to leave him alone before bringing in a fan from the living room. He licked his lips and thought; maybe a little relief wouldn't hurt.

He stuttered out a sigh as he moved his hips against the floor. Even if it was the smallest amount of friction, it was better than nothing. He choked back a moan as he moved back and repeated- licking his lips. He eventually settled into a rhythm of humping the floor, the image of your popsicle disappearing into your throat replaying in his mind. Oh, how he wanted that to be him.

He doesn't know how much time had passed, but he freezes and holds his breath when he hears the bedroom door slide open. He sits up and turns to look at you, hands in his lap to avoid the stream of light coming in that could reveal his erection.

"Feel any better?" you ask sweetly as you haul in the largest square fan, plugging it in and aiming it at Yuta.

"A little," he says. "Thank you."

"Anything for you," you say, closing the door and turning on the fan, plopping down to sit on the floor next to him. "Ahh, that's the stuff."

"Sure is," he says slowly, biting his lip. It's dark again, and he feels himself subconsciously palming at his pants. It's starting to hurt, and he's tempted to just blurt it out-

"Do you want to watch me eat another popsicle?"

Your question makes Yuta's breath hitch, looking at you with wide eyes. "Wh-what?"

You're completely serious as you look him up and down through what little light was in the room. "Do you want to watch me eat another popsicle?"

Yuta began to sputter for a moment, not sure how to react or to respond to your question. "I, uh, what am I supposed to say?" Of course, he knew what he wanted; and if he had to somehow get off through his pants while watching you, he would.

Your smile returned. "You're supposed to say yes, silly."

Yuta took in a deep breath and pushed his bangs back, feeling the sweat on his forehead. "Then yes,"

You grinned, but you didn't stand up. "Okay. Good." You lick your lips and only got up long enough to approach Yuta, pushing back his bangs gently and leaning forward to trap him in a kiss, your hands sliding to cup his cheeks. He instantly reciprocates, catching the message to scramble backwards so that he's leaning against the side of the mattress.

When you separate from him, he watches you with wide eyes. "(Y/N)?" He nearly squeaks out your name, breathing heavily and wincing when your hands trail down from his face to his shoulders. You first unbutton his shirt, pushing it to the side to slide your hands down his tanned flesh. You smiled innocently as your index finger gave extra time to the thin happy trail that beckoned your eyes to the hem of his boxers that peeked from his jeans.

"Yuta-kun," you reply sweetly. "You're terrible at hiding things."

Yuta sucked in a sharp breath when you began to unlatch his belt. "Y-you knew?"

"Of course," you're slowly pulling down his zipper now, sticking your tongue out in concentration. "You watched me eat my popsicle and only looked away when I caught you. You know," you continue with a mischievous smile, "I don't think I've seen you this hard in a while."

"No, it hurts… please hurry," he's surprised at how desperate he really is; he's usually not this wanton- or you this bold.

"Since you asked so nicely," you smile up at him, gently tugging down his pants and boxers, enough that you could shimmy them both off his legs. As soon as his cock sprang free, Yuta sighed with relief.

You observed him with a loving gaze; his eyes half-lidded, absently flicking away his flowing bangs, panting and whimpering ever so slightly as you brought your mouth to the tip of his cock. It was one of your favourite sights.

Yuta gripped your hair gently as your cherry red lips kissed his tip. "Like… like you did with your popsicle…"

Humming, you comply. Your lips parted to consume him entirely, and you could barely contain a smile when Yuta let out an all-out moan as he hit the back of your throat. You worked on his cock in the same way you ate your popsicle, and it made Yuta shiver.

You brought your mouth back up, leaving him coated in saliva. He didn't have any time to recover - you went right back down, your tongue swirling around him as you went. Then you were quickly licking stripes up and down his shaft.

"(Y/N)," his breathing was heavy and hot, more sweat permeated his forehead. His hand gripped your hair tighter, taking in the sight of you growing more dishevelled, saliva and precum rolling past your lips and down your chin.

Once you lifted your head away, you slowly slipped your tongue out of your mouth to collect the dollop of precum collecting on your face. You're still working him gently with your hand as you catch your breath.

"Don't stop," Yuta commanded darkly, and your eyes lit up.

"There he is," you say excitedly, licking your lips and swallowing thickly. "My Yuta," you giggled as Yuta grunted and gripped your hair tighter to push you back down on him. You started once again by bringing one of his balls into your mouth, smiling in triumph as you hear his moans echoing through the room. You work your way as slowly as you can, licking a wide stripe up his shaft, stopping periodically to sloppily kiss him. When you return to deepthroating him, you don't even gag, and Yuta's cock twitches in your throat from the sight alone.

"Fuck," he gasps, "please let me fuck your mouth,"

You look up at him as best you can from your position, taking your mouth off of him with an obscene slurp and pop. You lick your lips, tilting your head to the side. "I thought you wanted this to be like my popsicle," you said innocently, and Yuta nearly scowled at you.

"Please," his voice was dark and raspy, but you could tell he was desperate enough to start begging. His hand let go of your hair for but a moment, running his thumb along your bottom lip. "Please let me fuck your face."

"Hmm, I don't think I will ever be able to say no to you," you say, kissing his abdomen, watching it twitch beneath your lips. "Okay." That was when you stood, peeling off your shirt. Yuta noticed you hadn't put on a bra today, basking in your half-nakedness as you haul yourself onto the mattress, lying face-up by the edge and opening your mouth to Yuta, flicking your tongue teasingly.

He didn't waste time pushing his garments down and stepping out of them, leaning down to kiss you before standing up straight. He grabbed his cock tightly and stroked it as he hovered it over your face.

"Don't make me wait, Yuta-kun," you whine, pouting at him. This was his turn to grin devilishly, deciding to comply with your request.

As soon as he re-entered your mouth, he felt like he would immediately lose control. His cock was hitting the back of your throat perfectly, and you kept your tongue moving along his shaft and just under the edge of the swollen tip of his cock.

"Fuck, this is so good, I'm gonna cum soon," Yuta could hardly contain himself, crewing his eyes shut tightly as he felt his world fall away into a blind search for his climax. His thrusting grew more erratic, causing you to finally start gagging on him. "Oooh," he groaned, feeling your throat constrict against him. "Oh fuck,"

You breathed through your nose as best you could, trying to endure Yuta's wanton fucking. You still enjoyed the feeling of his wet cock sliding against your tongue regardless. You would really need to catch your breath after he was finished, and you would definitely need to change your underwear.

Yuta leant forward as far as he could, careful not to bend your neck too far against the edge of the mattress. He panted, grunted and moaned, moving his hands to knead your breasts and pinch your nipples. That was when you began to emit muffled cries as you lovingly choked on his cock, the vibrations of your throat sending him flying further into a frenzy.

"Gonna cum down your throat," he groaned, pinching your nipple tightly, reaching the peak of his speed, thrusting into your throat with all of his energy. "Fuck, feels so good, take it all,"

You felt as if precum and saliva were about to start spilling from your nose, but you were still close to cumming yourself. Yuta's touch on your chest, his words and the feeling of him wantonly fucking your face more than enough to leave you writhing.

"Ooh, I'm gonna- take it, cumming, take it all… drink it, ah, fuck!" Yuta stills and you feel his length harden even further before he begins to twitch, hot salty liquid exploding into your mouth. Yuta stayed inside your mouth for what felt like an eternity, swallowing thickly and panting sharply. Once he finally pulled out, you could barely swallow everything before you started coughing. He took a moment to slide his boxers back on, turning the square fan to blow in the direction of the mattress.

Yuta took a seat on the edge of the bed beside you, gingerly placing a hand behind your head to help guide it into his lap. You move your body to lay comfortably, panting and regaining your own breath.

"Are you okay, baby?" If you had the energy, you would giggle at how concerned he looked. He pets your hair softly, threading through the tangles.

"Yeah," you rasp, licking your lips of anything that may have escaped. "I just didn't know you had that in you."

"Me neither," he smiled sheepishly, looking you over. His eyes widen when his hand trails down to your shorts, clearly noticing the wet spot in between your legs even if his fingers barely touched it. "Did you-"

"I, uhm… guess I really liked it?" You blush and look away, but it doesn't take Yuta long to start laughing sweetly, bending over to shower you with quick kisses.

"Me too," he agreed quietly, "but I should probably get you all cleaned up. Bath or shower?" He tapped your chin with his index finger so you would look back up at him. He's looking at you curiously, waiting for your answer.

"Bath, please."

"Bath it is." Carefully, Yuta took you into his arms and slid the door open with his foot. Immediately you both were blasted with a wave of heat and intense sunshine, groaning at the vast difference in temperature.

"Cold bath," you whine, screwing your eyes shut to try and keep the sun out. "Ahh, it's so bright!"

Yuta chuckled, kissing your forehead. "Yes, a cold bath."

#nakomoto yuta #yuta x reader #fanfic #reader insert #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop fluff #kpop smut #nct #nct127 #nakomoto yuta x reader #nct imagines #nct scenarios

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