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cevansbrat0007 · 9 months ago

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Hello, Duchess

Summary: Your first encounter with Bounty Hunter, Ari Levinson, goes worse than you ever could've imagined. Takes place directly after the events in New in Town.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Bickering, Implied Jealousy, Threats of Violence, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Special thanks to my creative consultant, @curls-and-eyeliner. Part my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Ari’s P.O.V.

“Can’t believe this town actually has a real live bookstore.” Ari muses as he pulls up in front of the tiny, quaint-looking bookstore. “Fuckin’ wild.” Throwing his truck in park he takes a moment to survey the area, making note of the empty lot.

‘Must not do much business.’ He thinks before climbing out of his vehicle and confidently striding toward the door. Hopefully, the lack of an audience would make things flow a hell of a lot faster. Hell, if you were anything like some of the other women in this town, he’d probably just have to smile and flash his baby blues to convince you to spill your guts.

In fact, he was practically banking on it. Because this wasn’t Ari’s first rodeo – not by a long shot. He’d spent a lot of his life in and out of small towns like Bell’s Creek, which was part of the reason he couldn’t wait to bag his latest bounty and put this place, and its people, in his rearview mirror. Ari reaches for the handle on the door, only to frown when he gets a look at the sign hanging in the window that reads: “sorry, we’re closed”.

Well, that couldn’t be right.

He could’ve sworn that when he’d pressed Mrs. Turner, the First Lady of Calvary Baptist Church, about your whereabouts she’d said he’d be able to find you at your shop. Something about your preferring to work instead of resting and rejoicing on the Lord’s day.

While the bounty hunter supposed he could always try back tomorrow, he was keen to check you off his list. Refusing to admit defeat, he decides to try his luck anyway, only to be surprised when the door opens with a tinkling chime of a bail.

Confused but also now on high alert, Ari takes a tentative step inside as he looks for any sign of life. “Hello?” He calls out, finally allowing the door to swing shut behind him. Instinct has him reaching for his back pocket, checking to make sure he had brought along his firearm.

Just in case.

“Is anybody here?” He tries again, moving further into the shop. The place is clean and well lit, and boasts rack after rack of books. But what’s most impressive is that there doesn’t appear to be a speck of dust anywhere. “Look, I just came by to–”

“We’re closed!” A disembodied voice sounds from the back of the store.

“Yeah, I saw the sign, ma’am…” He clears his throat. “But I think you forgot to lock the door, so I –”

“That means get out!”

“So much for southern hospitality.” Ari grumbles under his breath as he continues on his mission to track down the owner of the voice. “Ma’am, I just wanna talk. And maybe–ahh shit!” He curses when his hip accidentally connects with a half-full rolling cart, sending several of the heavier books crashing to the ground. “Sorry!”

“Did you just break something?!” The voice suddenly screeches. “Don’t make me get my taser.”

“There’s no need for that.” Instead of picking them up, the bounty hunter hastily nudges them aside with his foot. “My name is Ari Levinson, and I’m just here to ask you a couple of questions.”

While this isn’t how the man had expected any of this to go, he’s relieved when he sees a familiar face peek at him from around the corner. A face that happened to be even more beautiful than he initially remembered. Even though it had only been a couple of hours since he’d seen you last.

Damn! It was as if the image of you in that dress taking up space at the other end of the pew was now permanently imprinted into his brain. He'd have to tread lightly here.

Otherwise things could get complicated. Fast.

Your P.O.V

“Pretty sure this is what law enforcement calls trespassing.” You sniff, craning your head around the corner to stare at the man who was taking up entirely too much space in the narrow hallway. Sure said man was easy on the eyes, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least a little concerned about his apparent inability to read.

“I can assure you that’s not what this is.” The lawman holds up his palms in an effort to placate you.

And although you try not to stare, it’s impossible to miss just how big they are – how rough they seemed – with just the right amount of callus. You can’t help but wonder what those hands would feel like on your bare flesh.

“Then what is it?” You ask, struggling to keep your tone short and clipped as you emerge from your hiding place. The last thing you needed was to have this man thinking you were actually attracted to him.

If anything, you considered yourself to be curious. No harm there, right?

“As I said, my name is Ari Levinson. I’m a bounty hunter from just outside Rosewell, New Mexico who also occasionally moonlights as a private investigator.” He tells you, jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “I just stopped by to ask you a couple of questions. And while I didn’t necessarily mean to intrude, I figured you might appreciate me taking a more delicate approach on account of your relationship with my person of interest.”

Fucking Martin Westbrook. He’d been the bane of your existence ever since you’d first crossed paths back in high school.

“I know you’re looking for Martin.” Annoyed by the very nature of the conversation, you pick up a box, hefting it onto your hip so that you can carry it out to the sales floor. “But I’m not quite sure how much help I can be.”

You brush past him, inwardly smiling when he scrambles to get out of your way. It was a subtle reminder that this was your shop. And you absolutely refused to be intimidated by him or anyone else.

“I’m sure whatever you have to say will be plenty helpful.” He’s quick to reassure you as he turns to follow the path you set. “Provided you’re honest, that is.”

“Did you really just waltz into my shop and call me a liar, Mr. Levinson?”

“I meant no offense.” Ari coughs, scrubbing a weary hand over his bearded jaw. If you were the overly presumptuous type, you might think you’d just managed to fluster the poor man.

Now feeling extra prickly, you drop the box onto the far counter of your cashwrap before turning to face your unwelcome guest. “As you can see, I have a busy day’s work ahead of me. And I was really keen on doing it by myself.” You gesture at the array of other boxes and racks placed around the store. “So if we could get a move on, I would greatly appreciate it.”

“Gladly.” He gives a brief look around. “Is there some place maybe where you and I can sit and chat?”

“I’d say here is about as good a place as any.” You tell him as you step behind the counter. Bending down, you snag a bottle of cleaner, along with a couple of rags. If this man insisted on being here, then he would just have to deal with you taking care of your business. “I’m pretty confident in my ability to multitask.”

Nodding along, Ari pulls out a small notepad and pen from his back pocket. “When was the last time you saw Mr. Westbrook?”

You let out a sigh as you begin to spray down your countertops with your all-purpose cleaner. While you supposed you could’ve gone with something a little more industrial, you were partial to the way this particular brand’s products always smelled.

“I don’t know.” You shrug as you bask in the scent of rose and cedar. “Maybe three, four weeks ago.”

“Do you happen to recall the day and time?”

“No. Not really. If I had to ballpark it, I’d guess sometime around the 5th of last month.” You move to the next flat surface, spraying it down just like the last.

“You sure about that?” You try not to let it irk you when you see him take a seat on a nearby step stool out of the corner of your eye.

“As much as I can be.”

“And did Mr. Westbrook happen to give you any indication of where he might be headed?”

“Nope.”

He’d been nervous though. That much you did recall. By the time he’d come to you that night, your old friend had been well beyond spooked.

“Did he give you his reason for leaving?”

“We didn’t…” You trail off, taking a moment to scrub at a particularly stubborn sticky spot that’s marring the wood. “There wasn’t really much time for talking.” You’re so concerned with scrubbing that you miss the way the county hunter’s eyes narrow as he studies you. “He just stopped over to say goodbye.”

And to borrow all the cash you happened to have on hand – to the tune of $500. Enough for a bus ticket and a couple nights in a dirt cheap motel.

“Right.” Ari scoffs, admittedly with a bit more heat than he intends. “Not a lot of time for talking.” He pauses briefly to drag a hand through his shaggy brown locks. “Not sure why I didn’t wanna believe them.”

“Am I sensing a problem, Mr. Levinson?” You hum, tossing your rag to the side in favor of focusing on the rugs.

“I guess I’m just having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that he kept you in the dark about his plans.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “In my experience, most men like Martin tend to have loose lips around the women they’re fuckin’.”

In that moment, it’s almost as if you can feel the air go out of the room. Just who the fuck did this knuckle-dragging, mouth-breather think he was?

“Excuse me?” Those two little words are spoken through clenched teeth. You’re so taken aback by his brazen accusation that you can scarcely breathe, let alone think.

Ari simply quirks a tawny brow at you, seemingly unaware of the danger he’s just placed himself in. Did he not see how close your hand was to that damned stapler? While it was clear that folks in this town had been running their mouths, they’d apparently neglected to mention that you’d also been the star pitcher for your high school softball team.

“Apologies if I offended your delicate sensibilities, Duchess. But I’ve never been the type to beat around the bush. Besides…” The smug bastard tucks his pen behind his ear. “You have to know that people in this town like to talk.”

Fire simmers hot in your belly, as you come out from behind the register. It takes less than ten seconds for you to bridge the distance between yourself and the cocky lawman. While you might’ve been taught never to raise a hand against anyone, this man was sorely testing every last bit of your patience.

“I want to make one thing very, very clear.” You hiss once you’re finally standing toe-to-toe with the handsome interloper who, of course, makes no room to get up himself. “I have never – not even once – slept with Martin Westbrook. He’s a friend, you backwoods jackass. Something you clearly know nothing about.”

“I get the feeling I struck a nerve.”

And, judging by the newfound tick in his jaw, so had you. Except you had no way of knowing it was because he’d lost a buddy of his own a little while back.

“And I think it’s about time you got the hell out of my shop.” His piercing blue eyes fly to yours, letting you know that you’d managed to surprise him with your heated dismissal.

Good. Because this Ari Levinson fella had officially overstayed his welcome.

“Look, Duchess. I apolo –”

“That’s the second time you’ve called me out of my name, Mr. Levinson. And I’m not sure I appreciate it.” You spit as you take a step backwards with the intention of giving him enough space to stand. “Now, I’ve been nothing but amenable to your rather…invasive questions. But we’re done. So, I’m gonna have to insist that you leave.”

Before you decided he’d make a deserving candidate for death by a thousand paper cuts.

Your pulse continues to thrum in your ears as you watch him rise to his full height – an impressive 6’4 – so that he now towers over you. Perhaps if you weren’t so angry you’d be a little more tempted to allow your mind to wander a little farther into the realm of fantasy.

But not now.

Right now, in this moment, all you wanted was to watch Ari Levinson’s sculpted ass walk right out your front door.

Nodding, the now quiet bounty hunter begins moving in the direction of the entrance. Neither of you say a word as you make that quick walk. In fact, you don’t speak again until Ari’s hand is on the handle.

“For what it's worth…” He blows out a weary breath. “This wasn’t how I meant for this to go.” His eyes find yours, as if imploring you to see the truth in them.

However, instead of responding all you can do is offer up a shrug. Which he, of course, takes as an opportunity to keep going.

“It’s just…the idea of someone like you getting caught up with a piece of slime like Westbrook…” He pauses long enough to open the door and take a tentative step outside. “I guess it bothered me more than I realized.”

His reluctant admission has your stomach tied up in knots, which prompts you to ask the one question you were almost certain you’d regret later:

“And just what do you mean by that?” You do your best to seem unruffled as you awkwardly brace yourself against the doorframe.

“All I’m saying is that you’re out of his league.” Feeling even more confused, you watch as Ari’s lips curve in a faint smile. “And if you didn’t know that before, well, now you do.” His head dips politely as he turns to head towards his truck.

“Guess I’ll see you around, Duchess.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning. “Oh, and don’t forget to lock up. Might help with all those unwanted visitors you’ve been havin.”

Ari doesn't need to turn his head to know that you're currently giving him the finger. He can feel it. And all it does it make him smile harder.

END

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loveshotzz · 1 year ago

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All I Really Want Is You

older!neighbor!widower! steve x fem!reader chap ten/ten - a slow burn series of blurbs -

Baby, I’m Yours

summary: A sleepless night brings you back to where it all began.

wc: 8k

warnings: 18+ for the softest of smut.

author’s note: I know we still have the epilogue but I can’t believe we’re actually here at the end of their story. Thank you to all of you that spent your summer reading about Steve and his Tough Girl, this has been such a journey for me as a writer with a lot of challenges but I’m so thankful I did it. Truly writing about these two and talking about it with you guys was the highlight of my summer. From the bottom of my heart, thank you 🧡

🌇 <- chapter nine

The Masterlist / The Playlist / The Tune:

Beginning of August

Steve had been gone for a week and a half and it felt more like a lifetime to you, but it wasn’t for the lack of communication. If Steve wasn’t calling you he was texting you, sending you pictures of his lunch no matter how lame you told him it was. By day three you were sending him a picture of your own with a loud sigh and a roll of your eyes. His enthusiastic response of ‘That looks good baby!!’ had made you squirm in your seat with hot cheeks huffing the word “pathetic” to yourself, but that didn’t stop you from doing it again the next day.

It was FaceTime calls of Peach telling Steve to turn the camera around, always too busy looking at you and telling you how pretty you are to notice his was pointed towards a wall. Or the one time it was pointed at Eddie who sat in front of him making a suggestive ‘cumming’ face to tease him, the camera flipped immediately when he heard you giggle. Steve scolded his cackling friend with an ‘honestly, I hate you’ before taking you to another room, apologizing profusely with blush visible on his cheeks.

It was the small bits of time in between text messages and phone calls that made it drag. The quiet evenings without Bandit’s excited bark from the front yard, the low simmer that’s always in your gut from the possibility of running into him any time you come and go, is gone with the man and his dog. It’s just enough time for seeds of doubt to creep in. The newness, the anxiety of it all.

The bright red numbers on the clock above your stove read 2:13am - three days until Steve gets home and tonight you can’t sleep. Quietly thanking whatever gods there are for your day off tomorrow, well - today.

Your apartment smells like Clorox, lavender, and lemon. The wood floors sparkling just like your kitchen countertops. Cleaning everything you could touch has kept you busy, but it doesn’t make you any more tired than when you’d started. Your intrusive thoughts and daydreams are going a mile a minute:you didn’t get your usual good night call from him. The rational side of you knows that one missed phone call doesn’t mean anything, but the irrational side decided you don’t need to rest.

The full trash bag next to your front door taunts you, just like the promise you made Steve about taking it out late at night months ago. The fact that it’s the last thing left to do makes it that much harder to walk away from. Gnawing at the side of your cheek you decide not to, he’s not even home to catch you.

The moon’s blue glow illuminates your path while the skyline of the city sparkles below it. The tall buildings shimmer in a way that takes attention from the stars in the cloudless night sky. You can feel how the humidity hangs less thick in the air the more August rolls in. The thin material of your tank top does nothing against the light breeze that makes the bottom of your sleep shorts tickle the tops of your thighs. There’s a chill that didn’t exist before and it makes goosebumps dot across your skin.

Your slides scrape along the gravel from your refusal to fully pick your feet up, and it fights with the sounds of the late Friday night in the distance. You hum a made up tune as the streetlight buzzes above, lifting the lid you jump when you hear someone clear their throat behind you.

“I thought I told you not to take your trash out in the middle of the night, especially alone, tough girl.” Steve’s voice erupts everything that’s laid dormant inside of you for the past week. Butterflies start to flutter until they’re fighting against your rib cage to get out and your cheeks hurt from how hard you’re smiling before you’ve even turned around.

“Well,” You sigh, dropping your bag in the trash can, “the guy I was supposed to call if I needed anything ditched me for his out of state boyfriend.” Shrugging when you finally let yourself look at him, the view rivals the one that shines bright behind him.

His hair is messy in a way that isn’t purposeful this time, but he looks just as handsome as any other day. The stubble on his jaw is thicker, but not quite like the night he waited at your doorstep, and god, do you want to feel it against your skin. His big arms sit crossed over a broad chest that’s only covered in a gray tank top. The thick patch of hair always half way on display threatens to touch the base of his neck, the bottom of his silver chain disappearing inside of it.

His freckles are darker now, easier to find from all the sun he got while he was gone and you’re jealous of the hands that got to rub sunscreen on them, even if they were his own. The black basketball shorts on his legs stop in the middle of his thighs, it makes you bite at your lip.The greens and golds in his eyes light a match under your skin with the way he stares at you — like he couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried.

“My out of state boyfriend huh?” He grins, tightening his hold on his own bag before his Nike slide covered feet crunch against the gravel towards you. His eyes catch the dainty silver still hanging around your neck, the stone shining in the moonlight, and it makes his heart swell. Tossing his trash in after yours, he meets your gaze down the slope of his nose, arching a brow. “What does that make you then?”

He smells like bergamot and cedar, a lingering hint of the cigar he probably smoked in New York still clinging to his hair. The heat coming off his body makes your fingertips buzz, twitching with the need to reach out and just touch him.

“I dunno, what does that make me, Steve?” It comes out shy, a little above a whisper, a question just for him.

He hums, a low sound that vibrates from deep in his chest while his fingers come up to toy with the stone that dangles just above the dip of your breasts. The tips of them tickling rough against your soft skin.

“What do you want?” His confident demeanor falters when he asks just as quiet, all the miles and days without seeing each other are affecting him too. He doesn’t tell you that’s part of the reason he booked an early flight home on your day off.

“I want you.” You don’t hesitate when you say it, no pauses for even a second to think of what you want to say. Your hand comes up to wrap around his wrist, the muscles under your palm dance from your simple touch. He wonders if you can feel his pulse.

“You already have me.” He almost wants to laugh until he still sees the same shared doubt in your eyes. “Haven’t I made that obvious?”

He tugs at your necklace as a reminder, a smile breaking across your face because of it and all he wants to do is kiss you now. Especially when he drops the stone to grab your hand, and after taking just a few steps, you reach up to touch it again — a silent, constant reminder of his confession as you walk towards the wooden gates.

“Wait, why didn’t you tell me you were coming back early?” You pout a little, looking up at him when he stops you both at your backyard.

“I landed a few hours ago,” He chuckles, his hands finding your hips to pull you to his chest, in love with the way you stand on your tiptoes to wrap your arms around his neck like it’s natural, like it’s second nature to want him close. “I was actually going to surprise you in the morning with breakfast after I picked up Bandit from Nance’s.”

“Oh yeah?” You grin at the thought of Steve showing up at your front door, that messy head of hair shoved into a baseball cap.

He nudges his nose against yours, the spearmint of his toothpaste fanning cool across your cheeks while your fingers curl into the soft hair at the base of his neck. Tilting your chin so your lips just barely touch, you silently beg him to close the gap.

“Yeah,” He breathes, hazel eyes clocking the way your lashes flutter against the top of your cheeks. He almost feels bad for teasing, especially when you give his hair a gentle, coaxing tug. “But someone wanted to risk their lives for the sake of taking out the trash. So, surprise, pretty girl, I’m home.”

His words make your breath catch, and you want to tell him he feels like home more than your real one ever did. Your heart thumps wildly in your chest when his top lip whispers against your still slightly pouted bottom one. You tug at his roots a little harder this time, needier, and you swear a whine tightens at the back of your throat threatening to come out if he doesn’t give you what you want. Please, kiss me.

“Well, good thing you were here to save me.” You giggle against his mouth, and it makes his hands squeeze at your sides a little tighter, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips. The tip of your nose pushes against the rough stubble on his cheek, “Besides, I missed you, I wouldn’t have wanted to wait ‘til the morning.”

“God, honey. You have no idea how much I missed you.” His face crumples a little at the thought, almost like he forgot for a second you were right in front of him, but when you somehow pull yourself closer, he doesn’t waste anymore time.

The wood is rough when your back hits the gate at the same time his lips finally crash into yours. A week of longing comes out with a sigh. The metal hinges and lock clank loudly together while he steals the breath from your lungs. He coaxes your mouth open with a swipe from his impatient tongue, groaning when you grant him access. You taste just as sweet as he remembers, and he promises himself he’ll never go a day without it again — not if he can help it.

Your hands get greedy in his hair, bigger handfuls, harsher tugs while your body stays flush against his as he keeps you pinned to the door. It’s all tongue and teeth for a minute, both of you losing yourselves in it for longer than you should. It’s not until a car honks, signaling to any bikers around that it’s popping out of the alley, breaking you two apart.

Chest heaving and lips swollen, all you want is more.

He laughs to himself pressing his forehead against yours with the kind of smile that makes your knees weak. The tip of his nose touches yours; he’s all wild hair and love sick eyes. You don’t want to be without him tonight. Or ever.

“Come sleepover?”

The question comes out before you can stop it, before you can really register what that invitation might mean for both of you. His eyes widen before they search your face for any kind of regret, his tongue wetting his lips when he doesn’t find it. You twist strands of his honey hair between your fingers, nervously waiting for his response.

“We - we don’t have to do anything. I just wanna be with you.” You finally whisper, your nerves getting the best of you. He can’t believe you think he’d actually say no.

“Let me shower and get the airport off of me, and then I’d love nothing more than to spend the rest of the night with you baby.” He steals another kiss from your smiling lips, letting you take another one for yourself, groaning at the nip of your teeth on his bottom lip before he finally lets you go.

Opening the gate for you, he grabs your wrist pulling you back for one more, relishing in the giggle it earns him before he whispers that he’ll be back in fifteen minutes.

It feels like your heart is trying to escape through your chest as you try not to check the time on your phone. Strategically placed candles are the only light in your living room and kitchen, while a dimmed bedside lamp in your room gleams a dark orange with your wax melter. It feels like your apartment is glowing, but it does nothing to relax the nerves that course through your veins as you pace the small space of your room trying to shake them before his inevitable arrival.

Knock, knock, knock

They are quieter than his normal ones, but they make you jump just the same. You shake your hands out, taking a deep breath before you pad barefoot to your front door. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth to try and contain the smile that always grows the first time you lay your eyes on him and his lopsided grin.

“Hey baby.” He greets you in the kind of voice that makes the dough of your thighs press.

His damp hair is pushed back, from what looks like a few quick hands in the mirror. A simple white shirt replaces the tank top from before, fitting loosely across his shoulders, and a soft looking pair of gray cotton shorts cover the tops of his thighs this time. He’s wearing a tan pair of moccasin slippers on his feet that you’ve never seen, and for some reason his exposed ankles make the heat rise to your cheeks while the fresh scent of his pine body wash threatens to take over your senses.

“Hi handsome.” It’s dripping in sugar the way you say it, sweet off your tongue just for him as you open the door wider.

He thinks your apartment smells like peaches and the ocean when you close it behind him. It smells just like you and he feels surrounded by it, intoxicated with it, the way he always wants to be. You watch him take in your apartment like he missed it too, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth when he notices you just cleaned it. He bites back his remark when his eyes meet yours, he can’t bring himself to say it when you’re staring at him from under your lashes with your back pressed to the door all shy like that.

“Don’t be shy, honey,” he extends a big hand out for you to take with soft eyes, “we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” copying your line from outside, he wiggles his fingers a little with a smile warmer than the glow of the candles that dance shadows across his sharp jaw and cheek bones, “I just wanna lay with you.”

You don’t hesitate to slip your palm into his, your heart racing when you watch his fingers wrap around you with ease. He pulls you into him, colliding in a mix of forest and the beach. He keeps a hold of your hand, cupping your cheek with his other one. The pad of his thumb traces over the heated skin, paying extra attention to the soft bag under your eye. You needed sleep.

“Just me and you, that’s all I want, okay?” He reassures you in a voice lower than a whisper. His heart swells when you nod with big glassy eyes, your hand coming to rest on the top of his so you can lean deeper into his touch.Steve’s hazel eyes look to yours, he tilts his head a little bit closer in a silent ask for permission, you push up on your tiptoes to meet him halfway.

He kisses you differently than how he did in the alley, differently than the Fourth of July and the baseball game. He’s gentle, like he’s taking his time with you because he actually has it now, like he’s sure of it. He doesn’t try to deepen it even when they move together like this is what they were always meant to be doing, not even when your top lip catches a little dirty with his bottom. He wants to remember this moment, commit it to memory so that he never forgets what this feels like with you. He kisses you like this until the need for oxygen becomes too much and your feet start to hurt from standing in place for too long.

“Let’s go lay down.” You whisper between bated breaths that mingle with his, your chests heave as he gives you the kind of toothy grin that makes the butterflies wake up again, nodding with a squeeze of your hand.

The hum of A/C and the sounds of your breathing are the only things that can be heard in the low light of your room. Steve’s body lays pressed on top of yours, making himself comfortable between your legs. His head rests on your sternum with a cheek against the soft curve of your tummy. His big hands hold tight to your sides, caging you in – it feels like he’s everywhere and you wouldn’t have it any other way. The weight of him relaxes you into the feathers of your pillows.

Your fingers keep themselves busy buried deep in the thickness of his hair. Still a little damp at the roots, you massage the part of his scalp you know was resting on the hard cushion of the airplane seat, earning you a deep groan that vibrates between your legs. He feels the way they try to close because of it, the sharp intake of breath that you try to hide.

He’d be lying if he said his own body wasn’t reacting being this close to you, especially when the pads of his thumbs caress under the swell of your breasts and there’s no wire of a bra to be found. His eyes roll back as the blunt ends of your nails start to scratch lightly near the nape of his neck, making his fingers squeeze you at the sensation. His face nuzzles deeper into the softness of your stomach, inhaling. You feel the prickle of his stubble through the thin material of your tank top and it makes you giggle.

Steve doesn’t know how he lasted as long as he did this past week without you.

He pushes the bottom of your tank top up and tries not to stare at the supple skin exposed to him before blowing a raspberry. It earns an even louder giggle, making your legs bend at the knees, trapping him in between your thighs.

“Steve!” You sound annoyed but the smile on your face gives you away when you go to cover your eyes with the back of your hand.

“What baby?” He smirks against your skin and feels the way it makes you squirm with a subtle roll of your hips, he’s not even sure you noticed that you did it.

“No…”Your voice trails off when he pushes your shirt up a little higher, his lips getting bolder, addicted to the way you heat up for him with every soft kiss, “No raspberries.” You finally manage, making him chuckle. But that doesn’t stop him continuing on his path.

“I promise I’ll be nice, m’sorry” He mumbles an apology against your skin, basking in the goosebumps it earns him.

He sits back on his knees, thumbs hooking into the bottom of your tank. His eyes meet yours from underneath his lashes and he wishes he could take a picture of the way you look right now.

“Is this okay?” He asks just to make sure, and the nod of your head with heavy lids is enough for him to press a wet kiss on your sternum before pulling the rest of the offending fabric off, throwing it somewhere on your floor.

Steve forgets how to breathe the moment his eyes land on you, soft curves just begging for his touch. He can’t help himself when he runs his palms up your sides making your nipples pebble when the pads of his thumbs meet the bottom swell of your breasts. You wonder if he can feel the wings under your rib cage.

“God - honey,” Steve’s words get lost on his tongue when you stare up at him with eyes blown out like his, it makes him run a hand down his face like he can’t believe you’re real. “I’m lucky to just be lookin’ at you.”

His praise makes a shy smile push up your cheeks, his own teeth shining in a grin because of it.

“I wanna look at you too.” You whine a little, reaching down between your legs to tug at the cotton of his shirt with a pout.

“Yeah?” Steve asks, bending back down to hover over you. His nose nudges against your cheek before his lips brush yours, smirking when you nod a little desperate against his mouth.

The kiss he gives you lingers, lighting a fire inside of you, the kind that burns at your fingertips, consuming you like it’s wild and it makes you realize it’s never going to be enough. You’re never going to get enough of the man who looks at you like you hung the stars in his sky, like you were the sun that broke through the rain clouds that followed him around.

His fingers curl at the hem of his shirt, and it feels like he’s moving in slow motion when he pulls it over his head, adding it to the already growing pile on the floor. His muscles twitch under your gaze, his own nerves finally catching up to him when he realizes just how long it’s been since he’s been with someone like this. Pink dusts his cheeks but he doesn’t look away, not when he sees the way your eyes glaze over at the sight. The dark thatch of hair in the middle of his chest looks soft to the touch from his late night shower and it makes your fingers twitch to touch him.

The silver of his chain gleams like yours in the moonlight that leaks through your curtains and it makes his skin look like it glows. You give in, running your fingertips through the thick happy trail that’s surrounded by another collection of freckles and moles that you feel the need to kiss and you catch the shudder that runs through him because of it.

“You’re so handsome, Steve.” It comes out a little breathless, and it makes the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Thank you, angel.” He tries to hide his bashfulness in a grin and a hand through his hair, bending back down to press a kiss to your collarbone so you don’t see his smile.

He starts a path up your neck, nipping at sensitive skin along the way to your lips, his own butterflies being spurred on by the whimper it earns him. He hovers over you searching your face for any indication to stop but he’s only met with the kind of look in your eyes that almost has him say it.

‘I love you’.

He tries to show you by slotting his lips against yours in a hot breath, like a key to its lock. The bed dips on either side of your head when he goes from his palms to his forearms, chest to chest he wonders if you can feel his heart beating just for you tonight.

The feeling of his skin against yours makes every inch of you feel like a livewire, both of you moaning into the kiss like you’ve waited too long for this. Tongues collide messily when he rolls his hips with a purpose. The pointed pressure on your bundle of nerves, has you keening into him. Your hands slide up his chest through the patch of hair you’d been dreaming about for months, before wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him even closer. Addicted to the way his hard muscles flex against your soft skin.

Box springs squeak when he lets go of all of his weight, it feels like he’s everywhere and it makes your head spin. Your fingers find their way back into the soft hair at the nape of his neck as you fight for dominance with his lips, trying to convey everything you’re feeling right now because words just won’t work.

Pushing your hips up to meet his in a slow grind, the thin material of his shorts does nothing to hide just how big he really is and it makes everything turn sloppy, teeth scraping together with silk between your fingers tugging at his roots a little mean. He smiles when he pulls away to catch his breath, keeping his forehead pressed to yours. His eyes are as black as the night outside that threatens to give away to the sun in just a few hours, they look at you like he can’t believe you’re real, memorizing every detail of your face like you might disappear if he blinks.

“So pretty.” He murmurs before littering kisses down your body, some sweet and some with a nip of his teeth.

His eyes meet yours in a silent question of ‘is this okay?’, long fingers curling around the elastic band. Tucking your bottom lip between your teeth to hide your shy smile. You nod with a little too much excitement making him smirk before pressing a sweet kiss on the top of your hip, running his nose along the soft your tummy doing it again to the other side.

You hold your breath when he pulls them down your thighs, the tips of his fingers gliding down the sides of your legs as he goes, lips tugging up when you squirm a little because of it. A low groan vibrates from his chest when he realizes you aren’t wearing underwear, glistening with your arousal in the dim light. You’re so wet and all he’s done is kiss you.

“Baby, baby, baby.” He mutters awestruck by the sight.

A little embarrassed at your body’s reaction, his praise makes your legs try to snap shut but he stops you with a gentle hand on the inside of your knee, spreading them again.

“You’re beautiful, please don’t hide from me.” He begs, taking all of you in again. “So, so, so beautiful, honey.”

His fingers wrap around your ankle, pulling your leg up enough for his lips to kiss the soft skin right above the round bone, his nose skims up your calf to press another one, relishing in the giggle he gets as he keeps on his path to what he really wants. You squeal when he nips at the inside of your knee and you can feel his smirk against your goosebumps.

Once his kisses get to your thigh, he settles between your legs with his chest to the mattress. It’s hard to remember your own name when he looks up at you through his lashes like that. He hooks your knee over his broad shoulder, his lips dragging a little dirty across your heated skin. He can taste the watermelon that still lingers from his favorite lotion. You were going to be the death of him.

He meets your eyes when he gets high enough for your thigh and hip to connect. Close enough to smell how sweet you are worked up just for him.

“Can I taste you?” He skims his nose up the plush inside of your thigh when he asks, his eyelids growing heavy just basking in being close to you like this. You could say no, and this would be enough for him but the way you’re already dripping on your sheets makes him insatiable. “You want that?”

You want that?

He watches how your eyes glaze over at his question, the intensity of his gaze makes you want to hide, he was so handsome looking up at you like this. Too bashful to actually say yes, you nod again.

“Can you say it for me?” He squeezes your hip, the pad of his thumb rubbing circles to soothe your nerves like his own weren’t boiling under the surface of his confident demeanor like a volcano ready to explode.

What if he wasn’t good at this anymore?

“Y- yes, I want you to taste me, handsome you can do whatever you want to me.” The breathy giggle that bubbles passed your lips makes him grin lopsided just how you like, a smugness that wasn’t there before smoldering like a fire in his eyes.

“Yeah? Fuck - Honey, I dream about this.” He groans when he pulls himself closer, the tip of his nose running up your slick folds making you shudder, fingers already tangling in your sheets. “You want me to show you how much I missed you?”

He doesn’t tell you that he’s started to always miss you when you aren’t around.

He accepts your nod this time, your teeth threatening to make your bottom lip bleed when he settles your other leg over his shoulder too, nothing holding him back from you anymore. He takes all of you in with a greedy eyes, his pink tongue darling out to lick his lips when he sees just how much you want this too.

Nothing can prepare you for the first swipe of his flattened tongue between your slick folds, the tip of it catching your clit with just enough pressure for the grip on your sheets to tighten. The butterflies in your rib cage feel like they make their escape in the gasp you let out, his low hum of approval making your toes curl when he does it again.

“So fucking sweet baby, god of course you are.”

He doesn’t waste anymore time testing the waters, his self doubt gone with his self control when your hips roll up asking for more. Steve knows now he’ll never say no to you and he’s not shy with the way he buries his face in your pussy. His tongue laps up everything you give him, like he’s hungry with his nose pressed to your bundle of nerves with enough pressure to make your back arch.

“Ohmygod - Steve.” The moan you let out makes his cock twitch, your fingers reaching down to tangle themselves in his hair, shamelessly pulling him closer. You were better than his dreams.

Your thighs snap closed around his ears after he stops the greedy strokes of his tongue in the tightness of your entrance for his lips to wrap your clit. He sucks with the kind of force that makes your eyes hit the back of your head. His eyebrows marry together when he closes his eyes like you’re the sweetest thing he’s ever tasted. One of hands leaves the dough of your thighs for his thick index finger to take his tongue's place, collecting the slick from between your folds before pushing one knuckle in.

It makes you gasp a little breathy as your hips push up for more, and he gives it to you, pushing two more knuckles in and you already feel so full. Your walls constrict, fluttering around his single digit like it’s a stretch and he wonders how you’re going to be able to take him. His own hips rut into the mattress in search of some kind of relief while he sets a steady pace between his mouth and his wrist that has you clenching like you’re about to unravel.

“You close baby? Wanna show me how good it feels?” His question comes out sloppy against your mound, all the color in his eyes is gone meeting yours from between your legs blown wide. When he adds a second finger, it slides in with ease making your eyes hit the back of your head, a low moan bubbling past your lips. Your toes curl with his fingers, jaw going slack with his name in your mouth like a prayer and he’s scared you’re going to make him cum in his pants again.

“Just like that, fuck - right there - Steve, Steve, Steeeeeve!” The fingers that are tangled in his hair tug rough, your thighs clamping down hard around his head while your body tries to squirm away to run from the intensity of it all, the stubble on his jaw rubbing you raw when he moves his head from side to side drinking in everything you give him.

His hand on your hip locks you in place while you come undone on his tongue and he swears you taste just like sugar when he buries his face in deeper till you whine, pushing on his forehead to stop, overstimulation winning. Heat floods your cheeks when you see the shine from your slick covering the bottom of his lopsided grin when he finally looks up at you.

“So pretty like this,” He mumbles, pressing a kiss to the inside of your shaking thigh.

You cover your face with your hands, the intensity of your first orgasm and the intimacy of it all overwhelms you, the tightness in your chest threatens to become unbearable. The three words sitting at the tip of your tongue beg to come out from between your lips.

Not yet.

He trails sticky kisses up your stomach, making sure to pay special attention to the swell of your breasts, pulling them both together in his big hands to give them equal treatment. Shining lips wrap around your sensitive nipples and it's enough for a new wave of arousal to blossom deep inside your belly, a subtle rock of your hips meeting his when he rolls one between his teeth. Insatiable, just like him.

“Steve,” His name comes out around a sigh, your fingers running up his freckled back before tangling themselves in his hair again, addicted to the softness of it.

“Mmm, tell me what you want.” He looks up at you from under thick lashes, lids heavy, and eyes glossy. He’s wrecked.

“You.” The answer is just as simple as it was outside, it's all you’ve ever wanted. You realize that now. The universe bringing you here to this moment with him. This was it.

“Baby,” he looks at you like he means it, like his whole heart is in your hands now and it has been since the day you moved in he just didn’t know it yet, “I’m yours.”

He moves back up your body, leaving wet kisses across sweat slicked skin making sure to suck at the sensitive spot he found just above your collarbone, smiling when you gasp. He’s not expecting to feel your lips against his jaw, bold and sure of themselves by the time they get to the corner of his mouth, dainty fingers pulling his chin down to collect your kiss.

Your lips move like you can finally relax, like you’re home now and he can feel your heartbeat against his chest. This didn’t feel like just sex.

Your hands run down his sides, grinning into his mouth when he chuckles as the tips of your fingers brush against his ribs, you keep that information locked away another time as you hook them in the elastic band of his shorts. His tongue licks a little dirty into your mouth when you start to pull them down his hips, helping you get them to his knees before kicking them off entirely. The length of him feels heavy against your stomach, and it makes you break away from the kiss but his lips stay attached to you.

Your cheek, your jaw, your neck, anywhere he can reach.

The view makes your breath hitch and get stuck in the back of your throat, walls fluttering around nothing when you see just how big he really is. He’s too busy trying to find new places to make you gasp and all you wanna do is look at him.

“Steve” his name comes out around the gasp he was trying so hard to get by sucking a little bruise behind your ear.

He hums against your skin with his eyes closed, drowning in you. Love drunk off of it. The slow sleepiness from the day creeping in as his body molds to the warmth of you.

“I wanna look at you, too.” Your request is quiet against the rough stubble that fades into his neck, and you feel his Adam’s apple bob against your lips.

“Yeah?” His voice is hoarse, nose nudging against your jaw when he brings his gaze back to yours, a smile pulls up the apples of his cheeks, crinkling small lines under his eyes.

“Yeah.” You don’t nod this time.

He holds your eyes in his, needing you to know there’s a double meaning in his words when he brings his palm to your cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing the high bone.

“Whatever you want, I’ll give it to you.”

The mattress bounces when Steve flops next to you on his back, the two of you barely fitting on your queen size with his broad shoulders and long legs. He catches the way your eyes grow big when you sit up on your knees and finally get to see all of him. He reaches out for you, sensing your hesitation at his size

“C’mere, baby, we’ll go slow.”

Heat blooms between your legs when you take his hand, your knees finding a home on either side of his hips. He’s thicker than you’d imagined all those nights with your fingers between your thighs. The big vein running up the length of him protrudes like it’s working overtime, while beads of pearly white smear against the rough patch of hair just below his belly button from his light pink tip. Wrapping his hand around the base, he gives himself a pump to relieve some of the ache from seeing you sitting on top of him like this. Soft curves on display in the moonlight, he can’t wait to see them when it breaks daylight.

“Fuck,” He sighs when you settle above him, “you look gorgeous.”

His words make your confidence peak, your hands finding themselves flat against his chest, the blunt ends of your nails drag through the hair there and you spot another cluster of freckles you hadn’t seen before, you wonder if he’ll let you find them all.

“Look who’s talkin’” You tease, making him laugh as you lean up to steal a kiss. The motion has the length of him slide easily between your slick folds, his tip catching your clit before popping out.

“Jesus Christ.” He sighs against your mouth that’s formed in a silent ‘o’, rolling his back up in search for more.

“Steve - you’re so - “ The last of your sentence is stolen by a gasp when you grind down to meet his thrust, the tip of him prodding your entrance before gliding up with just the right amount of pressure to make you both moan.

“I’m so what?” He asks a little smug, arms circling the curve of your waist to pull you closer, dragging you over the length of him again, it makes you shudder in his grasp.

He catches against where you beg for more of him, fluttering around the tip, your walls try to suck him in. A low growl rumbles from his chest when he tries to fit a little more. It’s your hips that roll, and it's just enough for him to push all the way in with a little resistance.

“Goddd,” You whine, feeling the fullest you’ve ever been, your walls stinging, desperately trying to accommodate his size. A low huff exhales through your nose when you sit up straight, letting your nails drag over the beauty marks that litter his stomach before finishing your sentence, “so big.”

“Yeah, but look at you takin’ it.” He groans with pinched brows, eyes transfixed on where he disappears inside of you. Arousal coating the thick thatch of hair that frames him, wetting his lips as he watches the way you grind your clit against it letting him fill you to the hilt. “So good for me baby, so beautiful, - fuck! - so gorgeous.”

His praise has you clenching around him, your mouth falling open when you feel him twitch because of it. His big hands find the tops of your thighs, the pads of his fingers leaving fires in their wake while making their way to your hips. He squeezes softly when he gets there, guiding your lazy thrusts before searching for your hands.

You watch him intertwine your fingers with curious eyes, his gaze transfixed on yours as he holds them at your sides, rolling his hips up to push even deeper.

“Oh god,” He does it again only this time if feels like there’s nowhere else for him to fit and it makes your eyes screw shut, “ohmyfuckinggod - Steeeve!”

“Right there? Yeah? Is that it?” He grunts trying to repeat it and your hands squeeze his in an iron grip. “Come on baby, I need to see you.”

It’s hard to open your eyes, the slow drag of his cock against your slick walls is almost overwhelming. Connected to him in a way that is going to change you forever. The pad of his thumb rubs soft on the top of your hand, bringing you back to him.

“You’re eyes are too pretty to be keepin’ them from me.” He smiles when you finally meet his gaze and it’s enough to punch the air out of your lungs.

“I love you.” The three words slip past your kiss bitten lips before you can even think long enough to stop them and it makes everything come to a standstill.

“What’d you just say?” Steve’s voice is quiet, something unrecognizable in his tone that makes all your nerves come back like they never left.

“I - I -“ the harsh sting of rejection is written all over your face and the feeling of you trying to untangle your hands snaps him back to reality. To you.

“Hey, hey, hey, no honey.” He doesn’t let you go, squeezing till his knuckles turn white “I just wanted to make sure I heard you right, because I’ve been wanting to say that to you since the fourth of July.”

You light up for him in a way he’s never seen before and he thinks this is the most beautiful you’ve ever been.

“Really?” You whisper a little shy, your own smile becoming uncontainable.

He lets your hands go to wrap his arms back around your waist, sitting up as he pulls you with him on his lap. Chest to chest with his back against your headboard, you’re even closer to him like this. The new position has him impossibly deep, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix making you keen pretty.

“Yeah, really.” He sighs, wishing he had gotten to say it first.

One arm keeps you close while the other wraps around your back, the warmth of his palm spreading wide across it. The stray hair that you missed more than you realized falls over his forehead and there’s nothing stopping you from pushing it back. Fingernails dragging through his soft hair, making his eyes close until he feels the slow drag of your hips spurring him on.

He doesn’t hesitate to pick up the pace, especially when your arms wrap around his neck and he feels your hardened nipples against chest. The new angle has his thrusts hitting the spot inside of you no one else has ever been able to find, the one you almost didn’t think existed. The tip of him catches it again and again.

The sound of your slick fills the quiet of your room, growing louder with every roll of your hips that connect with his. The light sheen of sweat that coats both of you has you sliding against his thighs, the cool air from the A/C doing nothing as the two of you get lost like this.

Your second orgasm builds at the same time your body starts to slump against his, your muscles screaming at you for a break.

“Getting close, huh?” He asks, with a forehead pressed to yours, lips teasing but never touching with each thrust.

All you can do is nod, your eyes not daring to leave his again. He wouldn’t let you even if you tried, a hazel forest turned night, you never wanted to leave the depths of them.

“So good for me, let go pretty baby, I got you. Let me do all the work.” He picks up his pace, pushing deeper in with every roll of his hips, feeling the way you squeeze around him while your body starts to shake, the high you’d been chasing threatening to take you.

Holding your gaze, the hand on your back slides up the dip of your spine, curling around the back of your neck. He closes the last bit of space, pulling you to his lips. It’s sloppy and sweet, neither one of you trying to deepen it, just enjoying the way you move together like it was supposed to be like this forever.

“Fuck- I love you so much it scares me.” Steve admits when he pulls away, his confession is the last straw that sends you over the edge. Tears stinging the corners of your eyes when you cum hard around him for the second time.

Your fingers tangle his hair, crashing your lips into his with tear stained cheeks and he can feel everything you put inside of it just for him. It’s enough to finally let himself unravel for the first time in years with a loud moan and his face buried in your neck.

It warms deep in your gut when he spills inside of you, his body trembling with the intensity of it all. Your thighs shake clinging to him, both of you too scared to let go in the irrational fear that you’ll just wake up from a really good dream. You can feel the wetness of his tears against your skin, your nails finding their way to his scalp. He hums against you when you kiss his temple, nuzzling deeper until you feel his lips against the underside of your jaw.

The two of you sit there like this in a mess of tangled limbs. Sweet kisses and even sweeter words all spoken just barely above a whisper until he’s soft enough to slide out on his own. He takes his time cleaning you up after with giant hands that treat you like glass.

It’s like muscle memory the way he pulls you to his chest under the covers, like this isn’t your first sleepover. The tip of his nose runs along the length of yours with shining eyes and an even brighter smile, kissing you softly with another whispered “you’re so beautiful”.

Streams of sunshine break through your blinds when the two of you finally settle in, buried deep in his arms surrounded by the lingering scent of pine and him, the sounds of his even breathing are enough for you to give into your heavy lids.

It’s only when you’re on the verge of dreams you’re sure will be filled with him that you hear it:

“I love you, tough girl.”

🌇 -> epilogue

beta’d by @chechelia & dividers by @chechelia

(thank you for everything cece ♥️ and a special thank you to @superblysubpar for betaing the first half of this series, i love you both dearly. & also @carolmunson for always talking to me about our boys, and helping me make this world a little bigger ♥️ ily)

#my writing #all i really want is you series #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington slowburn #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harringont series

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nebulablakemurphy · 3 years ago

Text

Miss American Pie

Chapter Five: This Will Be The Day (Finale)

Warning: this series features a romantic Yelena Belova x Fem!Reader pairing.

Summary: Everyone has returned but the battle for humanity against Thanos wages on.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

You wake in a coughing fit, the rubble surrounding you sears your lungs. “Natasha.” You call into the rocks and flickering lights. Clearing your throat, you try again. “Natasha!”

“Here, I’m here.” Her voice is rough, pained.

You push yourself toward the sound, through the dust you can make out her hair. “You ok?”

“Mostly.” She’s laying face up, a few scratches visible.

“What the hell does that mean?”

“I can’t move.” She nods at the piece of collapsed cement. “My leg is broken, you should go.” Nat says, staring up at the sky.

“I should’ve never let you go to Vormir. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know.” You try uselessly to budge the blockage over her leg.

“What is Vormir?” She asks.

“Doesn’t matter.” You swallow the lump in your throat. “How much do you remember?”

“The red room.”

“Do you remember getting out?”

“No one gets out.” She shakes her head.

“We did.” You inform her. “Yelena did.”

“Yelena?” Her gaze finds yours. “You know Yelena? Is she here?”

“Yes, I know her.” You press your lips together. “She’s not here though.”

“The rest of this building is coming down. If you were really trained in the red room you have to know that.” Natasha frowns. “You need to leave.”

“Not gonna happen.”

“Don’t be a hero.” She whispers. “Let me go, it’s ok.”

“No, it’s not.” You argue. “I won’t do it again.”

“What about Yelena?” Natasha gives you a pointed look.

“She’ll understand.” This is what she would do.

“Hey,” Natasha pushes herself up on her elbows. “Would it be a good thing or a bad thing if a giant man in a metal suit carrying a smaller man and a raccoon appeared behind your head?”

You turn toward the man in question. Scott Lang. “It would be a good thing.”

———————————————————————

Natasha is taken somewhere safe. She can’t fight.

As the strange doctor and his disciples start opening portals you see that you’re not alone. Through one comes Alexei, Melina and Yelena.

Her white suit is pristine, dirty blonde hair held away from her face in ponytails.

On shaky legs you move toward her, taking your rightful place at her side. Facing what lies ahead together.

Yelena catches your hand, “this isn’t much of a welcome home.”

You can’t help but laugh, “pretty cool way to die though.”

“Very,” she agrees. “Natasha?”

“She is a little worse for wear.” You warn her, “but alive…and safe.”

Yelena gives you a watery smile, squeezing your fingers. “And you?”

“A tower fell on me.”

“Of course it did.”

Thanos’ army is nothing to scoff at. Giant airborne creatures hover over his troops. Larger monsters stand in their ranks, space ship overhead ready to destroy.

Steve is almost unrecognizable, covered in dirt, his shield battered and broken. But you know it is time when he gives the order. “Avengers, assemble.”

Fighting is easy, it’s what you know. What you were trained to do. Fight to stay alive, fight for what you believe in, fight with Yelena; for Yelena.

The two of you move together like a well oiled machine. Like riding a bike, even after all this time you could never forget.

“We’ve got company to the left.” Yelena says through gritted teeth, kicking at the alien creature beside her. Dropping an empty cartridge to the ground and reloading her gun seamlessly, firing several shots.

Despite everyone’s best efforts they just keep coming. “Do we have a plan here?”

“Getting there,” Steve replies. “Anybody have eyes on the gauntlet?”

“Yeah!” Clint rushes past you with the glove in hand. “What am I supposed to do with it?”

“Get it out of here!” Tony insists.

“What’s happening?” Alexei shouts over the chaos. “I still don’t have ear piece.”

“Just keep their army away from that guy in the tank top.” You grunt, falling backwards from the force of one of Thanos’ soldiers colliding with you.

“We have to get the stones back where they came from.” Rhodey reminds everyone.

“The time space tunnel is completely collapsed.” Tony points out.

“That isn’t our only time machine.” Lang cuts in.

“Does anyone see an ugly brown van out there?” Captain America’s voice hums through the ear bud.

“I do,” a female voice chimes in. “But you’re not going to like where it’s parked.”

After grappling for far too long, you manage to knock the creature from you. Using your knife to dismember it.

“Next time, we get the cool laser guns.” Yelena yells loud enough to be heard by everyone on the network, as she hauls you to your feet.

“Friday, please add laser guns for the ballerinas to my grocery list.” Stark gives his smart ass remark.

“What’s the word on the van?” Rhodey wonders.

“Working on it now.”

The ship at Thanos’ disposal begins raining fire, no regard for their own troops.

“We’ve got people going down!” Rocket hollers.

“Clint,” you call into the microphone. “How’s that gauntlet?”

“Moving down the field.” The archer replies, “I’m alright too, thanks for asking.”

“Good.” You bite back a smile.

Hell continues breaking loose around you. Glowing circular orbs unfold in the air above, providing coverage from the missiles. You’re not sure if this is winning or losing. It feels like a bit of both.

———————————————————————- Thanos and his army are dusted away. Leaving you surprised and still swinging as the shock wears off.

You won. You. Won.

And you lost.

You lost Tony Stark. The man you’d barely known, but offered you clarity that will stay with you forever.

You lost the Natasha you’d come to know over the five years that Yelena was gone. Some parts of the redhead stripped away for the price of the stone.

But she’s still here. Waiting in the wings to be greeted by Yelena and their little makeshift family. You share a look of understanding when your eyes meet over the blonde’s shoulder.

Others come, Banner refuses to leave her side. Despite the fact that Natasha doesn’t remember him.

Clint falls to the ground at her feet. Breaking down at the sight of his friend, his family alive and well. She doesn’t remember him either, but welcomes him into her arms somewhat awkwardly.

Her expressions flicker from happy to overwhelmed. Hesitant to open herself up to the possibility that she is wanted, needed and loved.

Too confusing for the girl who only remembers the red room. Adjusting to this life will take time.

Everyone begins clearing out, their jobs finished. Rushing home to reunite with their loved ones. Tomorrow will bring about new challenges. The world is in shambles, and so are you.

Steve decides that he should be the one to return the stones. His goodbye tells you that he has a bit more in mind. But this is his life. His choices, not yours.

“Well, I guess we should head out too.” You say after a while. Your car is gone, lost in the wreckage from the explosion.

The setting sun is eclipsed, causing all of you to turn your gaze upwards just in time to see the ship’s door open.

“Is that a raccoon?” Melina asks, pointing toward Rocket.

“Do you want a ride or not?” Rocket shoots back.

“Not the avenger’s super jet, but it will do huh?” Alexei smiles, this is his dream.

“This is better!” A man’s voice carries down from the interior.

“Well,” Yelena shrugs, “if you say so.” She leads the pack up the ramp and onto the ship.

“Fanny and the pigs will be expecting dinner soon.”

“How are they?” Melina asks, “have you been taking care of them.”

“That was me!” Alexei says proudly, bending at the waist to gather Natasha into his arms. “Aye honey,” he grunts, hoisting her up. “You are only little girl in my heart.”

Nat pushes against his chest in retaliation.

“Do you mind if I hitch a ride too?” Clint asks.

“The extra stop will cost you,” Nebula stares blankly at him from her seat.

“They always do.” He remarks, trotting up the ramp.

Bruce paces at the foot of the metal grate, watching the rest of you load up. “I gotta hang back, make sure Steve gets there in one piece.”

“After what happened with Scott the first time I’d say that’s probably the best bet.” You agree, standing near the entrance.

“Yeah,” he smiles, kindly. “Keep me posted on Nat, will ya?”

“I will,” you return the smile.

“I’ll see you around.”

You nod, “I’ll see you.”

The captain of the ship introduces himself as Star-lord, and after a moment without response, Quill.

“Any requests?” He asks, finger hovering over the control panel.

Alexei creeps over to the younger man, quietly relaying a message.

“Alright,” Quill nods. Stroking the keys until a familiar set of notes ring out.

“A long, long time ago-“ The singer croons.

You let out a chuckle.

“I can still remember how that music used to make me smile. And I knew if I had my chance, that I could make those people dance. And maybe they'd be happy for a while.”

“We’re really doing this?” Yelena puts a hand to her head, the corners of her mouth turning upward.

“But February made me shiver, with every paper I'd deliver. Bad news on the doorstep, I couldn't take one more step.” The melody carries on.

“It’s your song.” Natasha turns to her sister.

“I can't remember if I cried. When I read about his widowed bride.” Melina’s eyes are far away, carried back to their years in Ohio. Before the world had been so cruel.

“Something touched me deep inside, the day the music-“

“Died.” Yelena joins in, lulling her head to the side to gage your reaction.

You sigh, all of this beyond surreal. But you allow yourself to live in this moment, because you might not get another. “So bye, bye Miss American Pie…”

“Drove my Chevy to the levee, but the levee was dry.” The roaring chorus of voices fills the silence you’ve grown used to. Fills the parts of you that were empty for so long. “And them good ol' boys were drinkin' whiskey and rye. Singin', “this’ll be the day that I die.”

“This’ll be the day that I die.” Yelena sings, her face alight with a childlike glee.

——————————————————————-

Melina, Natasha and Alexei stay with you for a while. A few weeks as Natasha heals and becomes acclimated to her life.

She claims to hate the attention, but deep down you know she’s full of it.

The Ohio house is bursting at the seams with five adults, nine pigs and one dog.

That isn’t enough to keep visitors at bay. Namely Clint, his wife Laura and their three children.

Things feel a bit off when everyone begins moving out. Alexei, Melina, and their pigs return to the farm outside of Saint Petersburg.

Natasha finds herself drawn to New York, with Bruce and the makeshift building he’s using as a lab.

You adjust to the steady thrum that is daily life, with Fanny and Yelena.

After dinner you load the dishwasher, drying your hands on the nearby tea towel before selecting a cycle.

“So how does it feel?” Yelena asks, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hmm?” You turn to face her.

“Being a hero.” She clarifies, a smile playing at her lips.

“I’m not-“

“Oh cut the crap, Y/N. You saved the world.” Yelena narrows her eyes at you.

“I did it for you.” You say simply, because it’s true.

Yelena closes the space between you, “why?”

“You know why.” You whisper as she cups your face in her hands, gently stroking her thumb over your cheek. “It’s ok if you wouldn’t have done the same.”

“I’d do more for you, and worse.” She assures you. “But do you really want to spend the rest of your life fumbling around feelings in the dark when you could have someone who-“

“I want you. I only ever want you.” You beckon her closer. “Anyway I can have you, that will be enough for me.”

Sometimes wires get crossed and you want things you never have before. And she provides them before you have a chance to ask. You give back to her tenfold, so that neither glass is ever empty. That is love. True love, the only way you’ve ever known it.

“I am yours…in every way a person can belong to another.” Yelena breathes, “and then some.”

Series taglist: @jeyramarie @freeshavocadoooo @ilovewinter101 @3and30aresoultwins @yelenabelovv @miphas-trident @1800-fight-me

If you loved this series as much as I did, you can check out the prequel here!

#yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #marvel fanfiction #black widow fanfiction #black widow #yelena belova fanfiction #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x y/n #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff imagine #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x female reader

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lucy90712 · 3 years ago

Text

Telling family (pregnancy series)

Series masterlist

George:

Last night me and George decided that we would tell our families about the pregnancy, we have held off for a little while to come to terms with it ourselves and to kind of enjoy it without anyone else knowing even though we are very excited to tell people.

Tomorrow we are going to see my parents so it is the perfect time to tell them I just don't really know how to do it. I don't want to just say it because that feels wrong I feel like it should be more exciting than that so I need to come up with another way which is what I have been doing while scrolling through Pinterest.

I showed George a few ideas to get his opinion but he wasn't keen on any of them until I showed him one that had an ultrasound picture and a little note that was originally covering it. George really liked the idea because it was simple but also gave my parents something to remember the moment by so that's what we chose which we would get together in the morning before we leave.

In the morning I got one of my ultrasound pictures that we didn't have up somewhere and took a small piece of paper writing 'I can't wait to meet you' on it as well as drew a little baby bottle and stuck it over the ultrasound before putting it in a little box.

We got to my parents house and they let us in and we sat down with them for a drink, I thought about telling them right away but I also wanted to have a normal conversation first that wasn't all revolving around the exciting news.

We had a lovely conversation first before I felt like I should tell them, I gave George a look as I went to go and get the box by saying I was going to go to the bathroom which I did because my bladder has been so bad recently but on my way back I grabbed the box. I gave it to my mum and told her to open it but she had to show my dad too.

"I can't wait to meet you what does that mean?" My dad asked

"Lift up the piece of paper" I said

"No way congratulations you two this is so wonderful" my mum said

"Congratulations" my dad added

We all hugged one another before we told them a few more things like how far along I was and they asked what we think we are going to have and other things.

Dream:

Tonight we have been invited to a family dinner at Clay's parents so we have decided to use the opportunity to tell them the exciting news about the pregnancy. Clay has been wanting to tell them so badly for ages but I made him hold off a little bit just until we could be more certain that things were going well because I didn't want to have to break other peoples heats by telling them if things went wrong.

I left it up to clay to decide how he wanted to tell them because after all its his family and as much as I get along super well with them its up to him to decide how he wants to remember this moment.

At his parents house we sat down for dinner and I had to be careful with what I ate so that I didn't start feeling too sick or else that might give somethings away before clay gets chance to do whatever he has planned. The meal came to an end and clay looked like he was getting ready to tell them.

"We have seem news for you, we're expecting" he said

"No way I refuse to believe that this isn't some sort of joke" his mom said

"I can prove it" he said

He grabbed his wallet and pulled out the ultrasound picture that he carries round with him all the time because he just loves it so much. He showed them and they finally believed him and started freaking out, his sister was super excited and asked me a bunch of questions which I was more than happy to answer. It felt nice for someone to finally know and to have someone to be just as excited as us.

Sapnap:

Telling our parents so far has been the worst thing ever. My parents were so angry at both of us but specifically me and now I haven't talked to them since we told them which is the main reason we haven't told Sapnap's parents yet out of fear for the same reaction. Sapnap has assured me that his parents will be much more supportive than mine and will offer any kind of help they can but I'm scared that they will think of me differently. I have to face my fear at some point and that happens to be today. Sapnap is getting me to go to his parents place with him and he is going to tell his parents I'm not sure how but he said he would warn me before he does it.

We hung out with them for a little while before Sapnap squeezed my hand and gave me a look to say he was about to tell them. My hands started to sweat and shake at the same time because of the nerves building up in my body.

"Ok please don't be mad but y/n is pregnant" he said

"Oh wow thats not what I expected" his mom said

"You aren't mad are you?" He asked

"No of course not I mean sure you could have waited but I will support you and the excitement is building" she said

She gave him and me a hug and we showed her pictures we have from ultrasounds and stuff which improved the vibe in the room to one of excitement and not awkwardness.

Quackity:

We have been telling family slowly over the past few weeks whenever we get chance to see them and everyone has been over the moon. The only person left to tell is my grandma who is quite old fashioned so I have a feeling she will be mad at me seeing as me and Alex aren't married which makes it even more nerve wracking.

I'm going to see her this afternoon and Alex is going to join me when he finishes working on a video so he can be there to face the lecture with me. My grandma is a lovely lady and I love to spend time with her but she sure can be scary when she's telling you off.

Alex arrived about an hour after I did and we sat down to eat some cake my grandma had made because she insists that I eat whenever I go and visit her. After she was satisfied that I had eaten enough I got a chance to tell her.

"Grandma I have something to show you" I said

"Oh what is it?" She asked

I showed her a few ultrasound pictures that we have

"What are these?" She asked

"They are my ultrasound pictures" I explained

"That's wonderful dear I'm very happy for you when do I get to meet them" she said

I answered all her questions and she did mention if we planned to get married but she wasn't at all mad which surprised me but I guess my parents have talked to her a few times about how society has changed.

Karl:

Karl's mom is coming over for dinner today so I've been in the kitchen the past few hours preparing and cooking a meal for all of us trying to make it perfect because we are going to use this opportunity to tell his mom about the pregnancy and I want it to be a memorable moment for both of them.

His mom arrived and we had a lovely dinner which turned out pretty good from how little I know about cooking. Karl was so happy and kept squeezing my hand under the table or just giggling like he normally does when he gets happy. After dinner we invited his mom to stay over for a bit to just kind of chill with us which is when Karl got ready to tell her.

"Mom are you ready to be a grandma?" Karl asked

"Wait is y/n pregnant?" She questioned

"Yeah she is" Karl confirmed

She was incredibly happy mainly because she has always jokingly asked when she is going to get grandchildren or when we are going to get married so for it to actually be happening made her really happy.

Wilbur:

This weekend me and Wilbur are going to visit his parents and to just get away for the weekend, they don't know about the pregnancy yet because Wilbur wanted to tell them in person so we are going to tell them this weekend.

We spent all of Saturday and most of Sunday just chilling with his parents so that we could spend time with them without the focus being on other things but when it got to the evening Wilbur started fidgeting so I knew he was getting nervous. I took hold of his hand and squeezed it to reassure him.

"We have some news for you" Wilbur started

"What is it?" His mum asked

"Y/n's pregnant" he said

"Oh wow I didn't expect that but congratulations" they said

Safe to say they were very surprised because they knew we weren't planning to have kids yet but once they saw that we were excited they got excited too. I showed them some ultrasound pictures of our little bean and gave them one to keep.

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minshookie · 4 years ago

Text

Petting Zoo.

Pairing | Stalker!Jungkook x reader

Genre | yandere,angst

Summary | “your secret admirer turned close friend wants to be more than just that, and he always gets his way.”

!warnings! | 18+ mature language, stalking , mentioned sexual acts, violence, sick pets, pet death...

| this is not in anyway shape or form a true depiction or representation of BTS, this is a work of fiction and is not to be taken seriously. For entertainment purposes only.|(this is my work, please don’t repost or steal)

Requested [closed for request] words: 2k.

A/N: another request done! I love taking a finishing request I just get so nervous in the end. Also trying something new. Any type of interaction is greatly appreciated! Edited, but please excuse errors. {should petting zoo be my first series?}

He knew you’d love it, you’ve always had a tender heart. The bunny coo’ed as he gently placed her into the plush box. He knew you were lonely, your roommate recently left you for her boyfriend, he knew fully that you were struggling. He’d push his ear against the wall to hear you two bicker in the deep hours of the night. He didn’t mind, he’d save you...but only if you let him.

Knowing your financial struggles, Jungkook went all out to make sure your bunny had the best even providing a months supply of food. He fully planned on this being the light of your month, you’d never stop thinking of him. He secured the new pet under one arm and the equipment under the other, he pushed his door open checking if the hall was clear. Of course, nice and clear just how he needed it, he slipped through the door with stealth leaving the gift in front of your door. With care he pulled the note card from his pocket perching it on top of the punctured box. Heavily he knocked before slipping inside his rightful apartment.

Leaning against the wall he listened for you to open your door. Finally when you did, it felt like his heart was attempting escape. Expertly he creeped to his door looking through it cracked ajar, he heard you read.

“I’m hopping mad for you, take me in as a friend, from your lover.” Fearfully you opened the whining box. In awe you gladly took in his gift, without a second thought. His heart fluttered he felt like floating in love, like in the cartoons hearts in his doe eyes.

Shutting the door he skipped to bed, exhausted his mind finally at ease, he finally has a shot with you! His heart was racing. He rolls onto his bead, head full of sweet thoughts of you, the plans he had for you. Closing his eyes he knew, this is only the beginning.

Overtime you’d grown fond of your new furry friend, inviting people over to meet your mysterious new fur ball of joy. With this new happiness and motivation, you started leaving your apartment more often. As a result Jungkook started seeing you a lot more and he loved it. He loved it so much that for some reason his schedule now aligned with yours almost perfectly.

You have a class? Oh so does he....would you like a ride? Time to head to work? How funny,him as well.....hop in!

Jungkook planned to be just what you needed, in a foreign place like this all you really needed was a honest friend. And he planned to be that and more. It isn’t hard to notice Jungkook loves it when you depend on him, you need him, your life would be in shambles without him. He knows it deep inside he believes it, but he knows you don’t. No worries for him though, you’ll see the truth soon...

Like any other day, like clockwork, Jungkook waited for you in front of your door like a royal guard. Today though he had plans for you, for days Jungkook perfected today’s schedule...big plans to tell you his feelings. Plans to pour his heart out to you, and to get yours poured to him, but something wasn’t sitting right.

you didn’t come on time, checking his watch like a mad man he paced in front of your door in anticipation. Your prolonged time inside threw off the agenda severely. Beside the settle irritation, he was worried something happened to you he was going insane. What if you left him? What if you died...what if someone kidnapped you?

Two seconds from ramming his fist against your door...Finally, while on the edge of his sanity your door creaked open. “Hey, running late today huh?” He looked your figure up and down. You weren’t dressed for the day, pajamas and Nikes weren’t your usual fashion choices.

“Oh, Kook it’s Bella she’s sick.” The whining animal sat curled into a ball inside of the pink carrier. Your voice floated to his ears, soft and worrisome. He crouched, looking into the dark cage. “Sick? Sick how?” He prodded his limber finger inside rubbing the frail animals head. “I-I don’t know she hasn’t been eating,her breathing is strange.” He could hear you on the verge of tears as he got up, slightly annoyed though he tried to hide it. “We’re late to class y/n maybe you should just leave her, she’ll be better later.” The way you batted your lashes told Jungkook he’d said something wrong. You griped the carrier locking your apartment door before begging to leave towards the elevator. “Wait Y/n where are you going?” You Kept walking carful not to rock the poor bunny too hard. “Kook, Bella is half dead and you want me to leave her? I’m taking her to the vet.”

He groaned coming closer as you waited for the aged elevator to reach you. “Yeah? Okay well wait for me I’ll take you.” The elevator stoped with a horrifying screech, you stepped in Jungkook was kicking your last nerve this morning. “I already had it planned for today.” He got closer barley missing the door, “Jin offered to take me.” The door closes quickly and you descend.

Jin? Did you say Jin? Like a angered child he almost stomped back to his apartment door. he threw his bag against it, crouching to search for his key inside. “If I knew she was going to bitch over the thing-” he cut himself off opening the door,kicking his bag inside. “ I bought the fucking bunny, who is he to take care of our bunny.”

He threw himself down onto his couch, unmotivated to go to class now, or do anything for that matter he decided to miss today, and maybe even tomorrow. He mentally facepalmed, of course Jungkook noticed you and the new older man downstairs getting closer. He didn’t think anything of it, until he saw him walking into your job when he came to pick you up. Handing you his cheap flowers and gifts whenever he’d see you around the building. Jungkook thought you were smarter than that, it made him fiery with anger thinking about him manipulating you. The only person that loved you was Him. How could you blow him off for some guy downstairs, some guy you didn’t even need.

He let his mind jump from one angering topic to another. Oh! And that fucking rabbit. Bella had been getting a lot of love from you recently, he didn’t mind he saw that pet as a connection between you two. But to suddenly you kick him to the side because the rodent refused to eat? From Bella to Jin, his head spun. He could feel his face heat up at the thought of Jin getting close to you in the car, touching you, playing with your hair. It made him sick, he could almost feel the bile in his throat. If it wasn’t for that walking ball of fur, you’d be in his car, getting touched and loved by him.

He sat up with a groan. “I’ll wait until she gets home.” He stood going to the kitchen grabbing a drink. “And I’ll talk to her, I’m sure she can explain, she’ll tell me the whole story.”

It seemed like decades before your laughter was heard coming into the hall. He’d been sitting facing his door, waiting for you, his hair disheveled his mind distraught. “Thanks Jin, talk to you later.” Your voice so sweet to him he felt himself physically react, oh how he missed you today. He heard the creak and slam of your door. What am I to say? Maybe I should ask about Bella? He got up fixing his appearance before leaving and turning to your door.

He cleared his throat before letting his knuckles beat against the hardwood. “Coming hold on!” He took a step back painfully waiting. Thankfully you arrived quicker than expected. “Hey Kookie.” You answer in hushed tones. “Hey, going to work today?” You shook your head “no, I called out on emergency.” He nodded hands in his pockets. “How’s Bella?” You looked behind yourself quickly, “Uhm, she’s a bit better just weak would you like to come see her actually?”

He nodded enthusiastically following you in, “sit down if you’d like.” You left him to go retrieve the sickly pet. He stood admiring the room, everything from the pictures to the decorative items resembled you, not only did it look like you but it smelt like you. Jungkook could swim in this scent all day.

“Here she is, a sleepy little one.” The soft hum coming from her sleeping figure earned endearment from you. Jungkook came closer rubbing her back softly. “So, why didn’t you ask me to take you this morning ?” You looked up from Bella. “I thought that you were gonna to be in class.” Your head tilted adorably. “Mm no, I’ll always wait for you.” He took Bella from your motherly arms. “Oh how sweet of you.”

“Hm So, since when have you been taking to Jin?” He looked at you inquisitively. “Jin? Eh Jin is... We’re...complicated, I’ve known him since I moved here he’s helped me quite a bit.” You answered keeping a loving gaze on Bella.

Jungkook felt himself grip the rabbit tighter he looked at you with furrowed brows. “Huh?” “I met him in a bar with my ex roommate, we’ve been talking since then.” You explained lightly trying to not hurt his feelings, of course you knew how Jungkook felt, and it wasn’t mutual.

You plopped onto the couch patting the cushions inviting him to sit. “He moved downstairs to be closer, he’s making a good effort but I’m not sure how I feel right now.” Sighing you toyed with your fingers, unaware of the grimace on Jungkook’s features.

He couldn’t believe what he was hearing, he felt that he’d been lied to and he didn’t a appreciate that. “What do you think Koo, what should I do?” You asked, getting anxious at his sudden silence. He was upset and he was doing his best to hide it, with a sigh he sat next to you. “Don’t let him fuck up your mind y/n.” Confused you looked up to him, “we both know what you want.” You crossed your arms, curious. “What’s that?” Already being aggravated, he sighed deeply,letting the now awake rabbit escape onto the floor. “Me.” You were visibly taken aback by his unusual boldness.

“Uhm Jungkook.” Anxiously you rubbed the nape of your neck. “Y/n don’t pretend for Jin’s sake, I can hear you through the walls talking to friends about me.” Without noticing he started leaning towards you. “I’ve heard you in here being lewd with yourself, who was on your mind.” He could read the fear in your eyes, you grew uncomfortable at the personal information he was throwing at you. “Jungkook please wait-” “who was it?” You pushed a firm palm into his chest in attempts to get him away from you, the sweet dorky neighbor you’d befriended now lurking over you like a beast. “Who do you love y/n, c’mon?” “Kook-” “before you answer, know that I’ve always loved you it’ll never be complicated with me y/n you want better I can give you much be-” you pushed his muscular chest roughly to shut him up, your back now touching the arm of the couch. “I’m with Jin, Jungkook please leave I’m afraid.” A statement you thought would save you, turned to bite you right in the ass.

You could visibly see the anger play along his features, grimly he chuckled. “I’m not going any-fucking-where until you come to your senses.” He gripped the hand you had up against him. “Jungkook that hurts please I’m scared!” “You should be, how dare you use me, fucking whore I loved you!” He ran a finger over his lips, his emotions clashing harshly with each other. “I love you...but you probably let Jin fuck you silly, disgusting...but don’t worry you’ll learn.”

He proclaims pushing you to the floor, he rushes to slam and lock your apartment door. He turned and saw you clutching the coffee brown rabbit,sobbing. “Y-you fucking stepped on her Kook!” the whining of the pained animal began to creep onto his nerves. If that rodent wasn’t here you would’ve been going out with Jungkook today, and Jin wouldn’t stand a chance. He bent down pulling Bella from your clutch, with little to no struggle.

“You get what you want, and you run with it, you get what you want and you go snuggling under some other asshole huh?” He held the injured animal in a primal grip. Uncontrollable he’d held in his anger, his love,and his thoughts for far too long. “Kookie please...please...please no, l- I love you!” You desperately pleaded for your pets fragile life. “Never have I met a bitch that lies as much as you.” Coldly he responded, not appreciating your falsehood, he gripped Bella’s neck harshly putting the disturbed animal to death. “Jungkook!” You let out a shrill scream. “I bought her I can kick her to fucking curb if I want, go ask Jin for one, or did he lie and say he bought her.”

Silently all you could do is whimper and sob, the thud of Bella’s body made your throat constrict. His heavy steps near your quivering figure sending chills through you. “Say it like you mean it.” With no mental strength to look up, you collected yourself enough to speak. “I lo-ve you j-Jungkook.” He groaned. “Suck it up it was a fifty dollar animal, you’re pissing me off.” You’ve never heard him in this tone. “I love you so much, Kookie.” He gripped your chin forcing you to look at him. He pulled up his other hand slowly touching your face causing you to flinch. “Ah Ah don’t run.” He cleaned your glistening face.

“Now, tell me who we hate.” He looked into your eyes darkly. “J-Jin.” His once adorable smile, now made you want to vomit. “Good, and I’ll snap his puny neck if he gets in our way.” He brushed more tears from your features. Giving into his temptation he gripped the back of your neck, bringing his lips to yours before pulling back to whisper. “Now tell me, who were you thinking about during those lonely nights?” You shook swallowing thickly “and you better not lie.” Closing your eyes in defeat, warm tears spilled from you like a fountain. “You Jungkook.” Pleased he kissed you warmly, while you resisted the urge to react. “Keep being such a good girl, and I’ll get you a whole petting zoo of bunnies baby...would you like that?”

Not my image

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cah0mie · 4 years ago

Text

To all my MCs that never really Enjoyed Celebrating their Birthday

Mammon: Alright! What does everyone have planned?

Asmo: I bought them multiple massagers so they can have a relaxing, stress-free day!

Satan: I bought them the new book series for them from their favorite author. I figured we could discuss the meaning throughout the story together.

Lucifer: I convinced Diavolo to give them the day off from any school activities so that they may rest, since they have worked hard it was an easy request. I also made a reservation at Ristorante Six.

Beel: I practiced how to make their favorite dish perfectly so they can have a delicious lunch!

Levi: I bought them the new most popular game they really wanted to try!!

Belphie: Uuhhhh guys? I don't know about this. I mean don't you remember what happened when we asked what they wanted?

Mammon: When they said they didn't want to celebrate? I've thought of that, and I have a plan!

Satan: This ought to be good.

Levi: Why exactly are we letting him run things anyway?

Mammon: Shut up and listen up! We don't have to celebrate anything! We can just try to help them unwind a little. Just friends trying to help their other friend, for no reason at all!

Satan: That sounds so suspicious, they would realize what we were up immediately!

Mammon: Do you have a better plan!?

Satan: ....... *Sighs* No....

Lucifer: Then I guess that's our best shot at doing this for them.

Belphie: I'm not entirely thrilled about following a plan made by Mammon, but I agree that it's the only idea we have.

Asmo: That's pretty sad..

Mammon: Shut up! All of you!

Lucifer: Moving on, I have already told MC that we have no school tomorrow. Hopefully they will sleep in and buy us some time.

-next morning 9:00-

MC: Shit....slept in a bit late didn't I?

-there's a knock on the door-

MC: Come in.

Asmo: Oh good you're awake!

MC: Just woke up. What's up?

Asmo: Oh, just got you a little something~ *carries in a tray with a cover on it*

MC: ..... Asmo..... What is this?

Asmo: I just thought you deserved *takes the cover off* Breakfast in bed.

MC: ...... *Stares at Asmo* What's the occasion?

Asmo: Can't I just do something nice because I fell like it.

MC: You're a demon.

Asmo: But YOUR demon, right?

MC: *shakes head, smiling* Thank you for the food, it looks great.

Asmo: Oh, but that's not all. *Retrieves a bag set by the door* Now, this mask will massage your eyes and play relaxing music.

MC: Asmo-

Asmo: This here will massage your neck and shoulders- which you could really use being hunched over a desk constantly.

MC: ASMO-

Asmo: And these are supposed to wrap around your legs and feet. They are massaged through air waves.

MC: ASMO!!

Asmo: What? I'm on the last one.

MC: Asmo, what IS all of this?? I don't need all of this, if anything you should use it.

Asmo: Now isn't that silly, of course you need it!

MC: As-

Asmo: Now, enjoy your food and relax as long as you wish! *Leaves*

MC: .....*sighs* .. So it's gonna be like that huh?

-few hours later-

Mammon: Yo MC! How about a game of Poker? I know you can't resist the game and the bets!

MC: It's more of the people and the conversations that I enjoy then the game itself. If we get more people on board sure.

Mammon: Uuummm, then how about some blackjack?

MC: Mammon, you know I'm not a gambler.

Mammon: Then how about....... Rummy?

MC: How about Speed?

Mammon: What?

MC: If you want to play a two person card game that bad, let's play speed.

Mammon: ...... What are the rules?

MC: Come here, I'll show ya.

-half an hour later-

Mammon: Wha-!? What the hell!? How are you so fast!?

MC: It's called 'been playing it for years'.

-lunch time-

Beel: Here you go MC. I made your favorite.

MC: Beel, this is much appreciated but why aren't you getting your food first? You must be hungry.

Beel: Nah, I'm ok. Besides, you deserve it.

MC: How so?

Beel: For being a good friend. 😊

MC: ...... *Sighs* ... I can't refuse you when you look at me like that and you know it. That's why you abuse it....

-afternoon-

Belphie: MC, it's time for our afternoon nap. Are you coming?

MC: I'm coming, I'm coming. *Goes to lay down beside him*

Belphie: Oh hold on! *Grabs a different pillow* Use this one instead.

MC: .... Isn't this one of those pillows that are supposed to keep you cool all through the night?

Belphie: Yep! You kept mentioning how hot you'd get while you're sleeping and how uncomfortable you'd be. I'd like my cuddle buddy to be comfortable while sleeping together.

MC: ....... There's NO other reason behind it?

Belphie: What other reason would there be?

MC: .... Fine. *Lays down with the pillow* Thanks.

Belphie: No problem.

-Evening-

Satan: MC, I'd like to talk about the theme in this book I've been reading. It's really confusing to me, I was hoping for different mindset to even it out?

MC: Sure, what book is it?

Satan: Come to my room, I'll show ya.

MC: Ok, *follows*

Satan: *lifts a book off his desk* This is it, apparently this story is holding the idea that committing crimes is alright depending on the situation.

MC: For example?

Satan: Committing murder is alright say, if someone kidnapped your kid.

MC: You think that's not alright?

Satan: I'm a demon, watching humans kill each other is pretty much sport to me. I just see it very unrealistic.

MC: .... Depends on the situation. Say your child was abducted and about to be sold off and become a victim of human trafficking. If this is proven then you should be pardoned for the most part, you will just have to live under new names and protection.

Satan: Wow, I didn't realize how complicated it all was.

MC: Yep, that's life. *Goes to leave*

Satan: Oh, before you go. *Grabs the series of books* Here, read these. I already have and I believe they're right up your alley.

MC: ...... Aren't these the new series of books, that just came out the day before? And you already read them?

Satan: *smirks* If you don't believe me, quiz me.

MC: ...... *Takes the books* .... Why do I not believe this is all coincidence?

Satan: *shrugs* Who knows?

MC: ..... *Leaves*

-Dinner-

Lucifer: MC, you're cooking?

MC: Yep. Everyone else cooks for dinner, I figured I could pick up the slack a little.

Lucifer: How much longer will the food take? We have a reservation in an hour.

MC: It shouldn't take too mu- wait, back up. What the fuck are you talking about!?

Lucifer: Is there something wrong?

MC: A few things yeah! One, I'd like more of a heads up! Two, why now!? What is this for!?

Lucifer: Consider this a reward for all your hard work.

MC: ...... Ok yeah no, this calls for a meeting.

-Everyone is gathered in the common room-

Asmo: What's wrong sweetie? You looked stressed

MC: I am stressed, all of you are stressing me out.

Mammon: Oi!! What did we do!

MC: Everything that has happened today was because my fucking birthday! Wasn't it!?

Satan: So what if it was? Why can't we celebrate it?

MC: I asked you not to.

Beel: MC, why do you hate your birthday so much? We only want to make you feel appreciated... 🥺

MC: Don't give me that damn look. I told you that it was a little too personal, and I rather not talk about it.

Belphie: Do you not trust us?

MC: I didn't say that, it's just...hard to talk about...

Mammon: Have you even tried?

MC: Have you tried not stealing shit? Difficult isn't it?

Levi: Woah! Burn!

Mammon: Shut up!

Lucifer: MC, we would probably understand your request better if you were to explain.

MC: ....... Let's just say... Something REALLY BAD happened on this day.... And everytime someone tried to celebrate with me....I remember it..... When I don't want to....

Levi: .... Woah.... Tragic backstory confirmed!

Asmo: Oh sweetheart, I'm so sorry.

Satan: I'm not.

Mammon: Wha-! Satan!

Satan: What!? Come on! When they first show up they state us down like we're frogs in the dessert, and they don't want to be reminded of some shitty memory!! You're better than this! Whether you like it or not I'm celebrating your birthday every year! Because you deserve it!

Lucifer: Agreed. You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. I believe with a little push you can love past that block on your mind.

Beel: I'll still make you delicious meals that we can enjoy together!

Belphie: You're keeping that pillow, whether you like it or not.

MC: ......... You all are assholes..... I hope you know that....

Mammon: Yeah well, you're a pain in the ass too. So we're even.

-later that night-

Levi: ....... I got that game you wanted....

MC: ....... You want to play together?

Levi: ...... Please?

MC: ...... I'll grab some snacks and drinks. You set up the game.

Levi: Yay!!

-----

That was much longer than I meant it to be, and alot more feelsy. Regardless, I hope you all enjoyed.

If you see anything that I could have done better, please don't hesitate to inform me. I accept all forms of constructive criticism.

#obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphie #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x y/n #obey me x you #obey me x mc #obey me x reader

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missmungoe · 3 years ago

Note

What’s your idea about Makino’s little ring in the cover of chapter 806?

So I’m not sure if you’re asking me what I think the ring means (in which case, see: https://archiveofourown.org/series/581281), or if this is a prompt, but I don’t think the ring is an accidental detail, and as she had a child during the timeskip, it’s not unreasonable to assume it’s a wedding ring. I have >1.6 million words written about who I hope wears the matching one, but until “that man’s” identity is confirmed, it’s just a tantalising possibility, alas!

But even if the ring doesn’t mean what I hope it does, it doesn’t need to for my imagination to make it so, and just in case this was a writing prompt, here’s a little something I’ve been tinkering with, originally in answer to a completely different prompt, but since they went well together, I combined them:

The thing with feathers, that perches in the soul // Shanks x Makino; rated M (part 1/?)

“Take it off?”

Surprise lifted her voice, her laugh small and startled, but then she’d been caught off guard by the request, made out of the blue one morning.

The sun was taking its time, rising from its slumber with a lazy stretch across her floors, a slight chill still touching the salt air where she’d thrown the windows open. A thick cover of sea mist draped heavily over the water, soft as chiffon where it crept up the shoreline to the foundations of her bar; a protective shroud veiling her little corner of the world, half-forgotten by the rest.

Shanks had been reading the paper while she got ready to open, a routine they’d created, bit by bit over the months he’d stayed, communicated in touches and gestures―the chairs taken down from the tables while she had her back turned; a cup of coffee placed by his elbow before he could request it―no words needed between them in this first, tender hour, and so she’d been startled when he’d spoken.

She considered him across the counter, the glass she’d been polishing cupped idly between her hands. The look on his face was unusually serious, which told her what he had in mind wasn’t roleplay. Not the kind she would have expected him to suggest, anyway.

Unease crept with a shiver up her back, and she had an inkling already before Shanks said, evenly, “If anyone shows up, I want you to take your ring off. And I’m not talking about Garp, although this is probably the only time he’d agree with me.”

“But I don’t want to take it off,” Makino said, tucking her fingers around the hand that wore it, as though that could somehow keep it there.

She saw his eyes going to it, before they lifted to hers, the barest furrow between his brows betraying a rare tension. “It would be safer.”

“But who’s going to make the connection? It’s not like it has ‘property of Red-Haired Shanks’ inscribed on it.”

His lips didn’t even quirk, which was so jarring her own smile fell. She knew him so well, it was only rarely that he ever responded in a way she didn’t expect, but it was becoming clear to her now that whatever was on his mind, it couldn’t be smoothed over with jokes.

She took in his face, his handsome features arranged in a look she wasn’t used to seeing, a hardness about him that didn’t belong here, on her gentle shores―that belonged to a different sea, one that asked different things of him, things she couldn’t ask, and she hated it now for finding him here, and for infringing on her peace as she’d made it.

Her eyes darted to the paper, open on the counter, wondering if something in it had inspired this change, but seeing the way he looked at her, behind the counter that was the only protection she’d ever needed, Makino knew it wasn’t anything in the news, but something they’d both known had been coming for a while. Ever since he’d come back, it had waited in the wings, a silent patron she could ignore most days, too happy to pay it any mind, but there was no ignoring it now that he’d brought it up.

They’d been holding off discussing his departure, even as she’d known it was bound to catch up with them eventually. But while she’d made her peace with him leaving, knowing he’d come back, the thought of giving up the tangible reminder she had of that promise met resistance now.

She’d spent ten years hinging her hopes on nothing but her memories, trying to convince herself she hadn’t imagined the promise he’d made her. Now they were married, and there was more than words binding them, and even the sea had to respect these vows, spoken on the deck of his ship, no church or mortal court to give their blessing, only that bottomless cathedral, and the ancient authority that had witnessed their union.

She felt the metal of her wedding band, warmed by her fingers. Their rings had been wrought from the chain of the anchor that had first dropped in her port twelve years ago, but it wasn’t sentimental value that made her react so fiercely now, at the thought of parting with it.

She didn’t want to take it off―to pretend she hadn’t made that vow, or that the last two years hadn’t happened. The ring was a declaration of what she was, the only way she could declare it, when the world couldn’t know she existed. She refused to give that up, and to pretend she was anything less than she was, even just for show.

“It’s not like there’s any evidence tracing back to you,” Makino said, when he hadn’t spoken. “We don’t have a marriage certificate in the records that they can dig up.” Ben had been the one to marry them; an old sailor’s tradition, shamelessly borrowed with a pirate’s cheerful contempt of the law; the flowers in her hair new as snow, and the sea their something blue. Unconventional by most standards, but she couldn’t have imagined it any other way.

Shanks wasn’t budging. “It’s just safer if people believe you’re unmarried.”

“The whole village was at our wedding, Shanks. Half of them got blackout drunk, but I think they remember.” Her own memories were blurry at best, flowers crumbling under her bare feet, and laughing as he spun her, a wedding shanty that put their vows to shame, and laughter she could still feel in the bottom of her stomach.

The following hangover, though; that she remembered.

Still no smile, but then she heard how her attempted humour faltered, buckling under his seriousness. She didn’t like what it made of his face; the one she only knew as smiling.

“Not the village,” Shanks said, with a look and a pitch that said he knew she was being obstinate, and that left her breath feeling a little faint. He didn’t use that tone with her often, at least outside of more intimate settings, and she didn’t like it being invoked here, and in this way.

Shifting her weight, she squared her shoulders, all of her five feet brandished against his six and more, although even seated, it didn’t give her an advantage, but she saw the way his brow furrowed, as she said, gently firm, “I’m not taking it off.”

She didn’t know if the look on his face was affection or exasperation. “Can’t you just agree with me on this?”

“No.”

“Makino―”

“If anyone asks, I’ll just say my husband is out working the fields,” she said. “What are they going to do, go out and check? Because I can ask one of the farmers to put up a scarecrow by one of the ploughs.”

Her stubborn levity made no headway, his hardened features untouched, but she didn’t give in, her chin lifted as she stared him down across the countertop.

Then with a sigh, “You’d at least have to pick a believable lie,” Shanks relented, after enduring a full thirty seconds of her eyes. His look softened a bit. “And make it a good-looking scarecrow.”

“It could be asleep at the plough,” Makino suggested. “If we’re going for accuracy.” Her smile trembled, before it fell when he didn’t return it.

It was hard to swallow past the knot in her throat, and she heard it in her voice when she said, “I’ll tell them you’re out fishing.”

“And if they stick around and I never come in?”

“I’ll tell them I hope the sea king didn’t get you?”

This time she couldn’t even attempt a smile, and when his expression still didn’t change, she said, without teasing, “Then I’ll tell them you’re in Goa Port picking up a shipment of spirits. You’re a barkeep, but it’s hard getting orders delivered here. It’s a long way to Goa, too. You’ll be gone until tomorrow, at the earliest.”

“And if they come back and I’m still not around?”

She might have made another suggestion, but recognised from the stubborn set of his jaw that he wasn’t backing down.

His face changed then, something like regret chasing across it, there before it was gone, and she didn’t understand why before Shanks said, with a heaviness that held an almost portentous note, “Say that you’re a widow.”

She was surprised by the forcefulness of her own reaction.

“No.”

He sighed. “Makino―”

“No,” she repeated, fiercely. “I won’t.”

She saw that she wasn’t the only one surprised by her reaction. And she didn’t even know why it hit her so hard. She couldn’t claim to be particularly superstitious. Her mother had been too practical for superstition, but she’d also respected the sea; they all did here, who lived their lives beside it. It was a more pragmatic relationship than a sailor might devote himself to, which often had an air of fancy about it, but even if they didn’t read omens from the sky or pray to any gods, there was an implicit understanding among them that you didn’t challenge those forces lightly. They were thankful for fair weather and a good catch, but they didn’t invoke the Fates here, or seek to challenge them.

But the man seated across the counter from her had the authority to do that; the one who’d carved a place for himself on a sea most never lived to sail, one of few who could claim the kind of power it took to challenge that old authority.

She wasn’t like him. She knew what was owed; a debt she’d been paying for twelve years, for wanting him. She didn’t want to invoke that word, the fate that was all too common for those who gave their hearts to sailors, in case she invoked prophecy along with it.

Putting away the glass, Makino pressed her palms over the polished countertop. She saw how they shook, and the still-new gleam of her wedding ring where it circled her finger, but then she hadn’t been wearing it long enough for it to get scratches.

She didn’t want that to be their marriage, taken off when the going got tough, forever keeping its shiny new exterior. She wanted it to show signs of wear, of work, and love―of actually being a marriage, and not just when it was convenient, or safe.

“I’m your wife,” she said gently, although the fervour behind it refused to bend against her own fears. “I want to be your wife, even if I’m here and you’re not―”

The words faltered on her tongue, but then there was a reason she’d been avoiding thinking about him leaving.

Shanks’ look softened, some of the tension in his brow yielding as he said, understanding, “The ring isn’t what makes you my wife.”

“I know that,” Makino said softly. Turning her hand, she gripped his fingers. He wore his ring now, but she knew he wouldn’t take the risk when he left. But she understood that, even if part of her rebelled against doing the same. “It’s not like I don’t understand where you’re coming from. I know it’s a risk. What I’m saying is that I’m willing to take it.” To be what she was, she’d accept the danger that came with it. That was her marriage vows. Not empty platitudes about sickness and health, only the simple, unembellished truth.

Shanks said nothing, his gaze on their hands, but the look in his eyes like he wasn’t seeing a ring but a shackle, and a different kind of prophecy than the one she feared.

She decided to try a different tactic.

“If pretending is what you want me to do, I could always get someone from Dadan’s family to stand in as my husband,” Makino said, and saw him look up, the slightest tightening at the corners of his eyes betraying his otherwise unreadable expression.

Turning his hand over between her own, she traced the sword-callouses in his palm, the softer pads of her fingers catching against the rougher skin. “Magra, maybe,” she continued, and watched the barest flex of his fingers. “I’ve heard he’s quite handy. We could tell people we met when he helped me carry a keg from the storeroom.” Lifting her eyes found him watching her, but she only met his gaze calmly, as she asked him, “What do you think? Would he make me a good stand-in husband?”

His eyes held hers, her gentle challenge noted, the look in them somewhere between knowing and warning, and this time it sent an entirely different kind of shiver racing up her spine.

Undeterred, she lowered her eyes to their hands, smoothing her thumb over his knuckles, pale under his sun-darkened skin. “Maybe he could help me out around the bar. To keep up appearances.”

Flicking her eyes up to his, she went in for the kill. “He could even stay in the guest room. Just to be safe.”

His whole look darkened, and her stomach did a thrilling little flip.

“Don’t like that idea, hmm?” she asked, and tried to pretend her voice didn’t shiver, but it was hard when he was looking at her like that. “Me with someone else.” She trailed her fingertips across the back of his hand, her own so small she couldn’t even cover half of it with all her fingers splayed. “A different man in my house.” A fleeting caress to his wrist felt the tendons in his forearm, pulled taut with a strain that left her feeling suddenly short of breath, even as she said, demure, “And my pantry.”

“You’re playing a very dangerous game, wife.”

The pitch of his voice had goosebumps pebbling her flesh, his naturally deep timbre touched with a note of warning that stirred something deep within her, although she couldn’t tell which was the fiercer feeling, desire or relief, finding her cheek finally parried with something other than that hard expression that couldn’t be coaxed into yielding, no matter how gentle her touches.

“Well,” Makino said, and even teasing, the sincerity was real when she told him softly, her small hand gripping his, mapped with the evidence of his life, their marriage included, “I don’t mind a little danger.”

Then, this time without teasing, “I married you,” she said, and didn’t care that her voice trembled now. She wasn’t hiding her feelings. “And I’ll be careful, but I won’t hide what I am, or pretend that I’m something else. Or someone else’s.”

Bearing the weight of his eyes, she didn’t shy away from them, or from the truth as she spoke it.

“I’m yours,” she told him, fiercely, and felt the way his hand tightened under hers. “And if they come here and they already know about me, nothing I say or do will change their minds. The ring won’t matter. And there are things I can’t hide that easily.”

She glanced towards the crib behind the counter; the one they’d fashioned out of an old barrel of their captain’s favourite whiskey. She’d found the gesture both characteristically inappropriate and undeniably perfect, but then she’d spent her first years sleeping in a liquor crate while her mother worked. And their child wasn’t just the son of a pirate; he was the son of a barmaid, too.

She saw Shanks’ gaze going to it, and the baby sleeping within. And it was more than her lack of protection that weighed on him, she knew, but as long as he was who he was, there would be a risk in being associated with him. Even retiring wouldn’t change what he’d been. Not in the eyes of the current Fleet Admiral, anyway.

And since it wasn’t something either of them could change, she was determined to make the best of the situation, but then she was good at that.

She thought it was time to remind him just how good.

It was still a little while before they were due to open, and smiling, “You could always help me practice my ruse,” Makino suggested, and saw his brows lifting, bemusement at what she had planned easing some of the tension from his features.

Leaning across the counter, she trailed her fingers along his wrist, following the contours of his arm, and the distracting tautness of corded muscle under her fingertips, “My husband isn’t here, officer,” she said, looking up at him through her lashes. “It’s just me: a very lonely barmaid with a very spacious pantry.”

Her face fell when he pinched his lips, before his grin shattered his whole composure, and, “Wait,” she said, drawing back to stutter, “That sounded better in my head. What I meant was that―”

A broad hand reached around the back of her neck, pulling her in for a kiss that stole what she’d been about to say, and muffling her startled laugh, although his own was quick to follow, deep and rough where it rose from his chest, the kiss breaking when he couldn’t contain his grin.

Drawing back enough to look at her, he sighed, rough fingers slipping from her neck to tuck her hair behind her ear. “God, you’re terrible at this,” Shanks said, with such a fierce affection, her heart constricted. “Completely unconvincing.”

Balancing on her toes, the edge of the counter dug into her ribs, but the discomfort was fleeting and unimportant. Her smile trembled on her mouth, inches from his, his beard brushing her jaw as she murmured, “I know.”

Closing her eyes, she kissed him softly, her hands cupping his face, no pretence this time, only the honest truth, offered with all of herself, the only way she knew how.

He’d moved before she could react, the kiss breaking only for a second, and she’d barely had time to catch her breath when his mouth claimed hers again, his arm wrapping around her as he pushed her back towards the storeroom, and the door where it sat ajar.

They stumbled over the doorstep, fumbling between sloppy kisses, like they were in that moment younger people with less to lose, her little laughing shriek muffled against his lips when he hoisted her up onto the shelf where her ledger lay open, and she couldn’t contain her giggles even as he shushed her through grinning kisses, knowing from experience how little it took to rouse a three-month old baby but unable to help herself, something wild and reckless pushing like wings against her ribcage, refusing to stay hidden, wanting out, fearless in its desire, and its will to claim it.

They hadn’t brought a lantern, and the light hadn’t reached this far into her bar, the storeroom cool and dark and the heavy shelves keeping her spirits and secrets, the crates digging into her back as he pinned her to them.

“This is very rakish behaviour for a married woman,” Shanks rumbled, releasing her from the kiss, her breath hitching when his hand wrapped around her thigh, pushing her skirt out of the way. “Someone might mistake you for a pirate.”

Makino hummed, finding her balance on the shelf, her arms wrapped loosely around his neck as she swung her legs, her boots and stockings impishly bared, and saw how it drew his eyes, before she eased them apart, her smile small and demure, and utterly unconvincing. “Imagine that.”

His eyes held her, his features darkened by the shadows of her pantry, making his scars look more pronounced, but the look beneath was gentle as Shanks touched his brow to hers. His thumb traced the hem of her stocking, and the glimpse of bare skin beneath her skirt where he’d pushed it up.

The feeling from before seized her, that fearless thing, like wings waiting under her skin. And maybe it was easy to be brave here, within the walls of her pantry where it felt like nothing could touch them, but even knowing differently didn’t change what she felt, as Makino told him, soft, “Ask me again.”

His look changed, a sudden intensity in it that made her glad she was sitting, but she didn’t look away, accepting the full weight of the truth behind it, unfearing of what it meant to be loved like that, and by someone like him.

Bending his head, his mouth covered hers firmly, stuttering her breath with a gasp, a command behind it that left her hands shaking where she’d curled them around his neck, and if she’d had any more clever remarks prepared about stand-in husbands or navy officers, they fled her mind now as she melted.

The big hand around her thigh tightened its grip, his wedding ring digging into her skin, as though he could imprint something that couldn’t be taken off or hidden, that was written on her skin, on her soul, and if she could have formed the words, she might have told him he already had, but they were lost when his hand slid up her thigh to part her legs, finding her with a shuddering breath that she felt in the way it left him.

And this was another unspoken language they’d made, communicated in touches―her legs parting to him in welcome, and his hand pausing, his fingers already half inside her, asking; her breath hitching as she lifted herself up to kiss him deeper, her hands threading through his hair as she gave herself, a silent affirmation that told him to take―no words needed as he entered her, carefully even if it had been months since their son, but she appreciated the restraint he showed, even with all of him unravelling under her hands, that iron-clad control included.

Her legs wrapping around his waist pulled him deeper, her gasp stuttering with a faint little plea as he filled her to her limit. And if she hoped he’d leave something in her it was a private thought, begged with her breaths as she took him inside her, each thrust a little harder, the bottles stirring in their crates as the shelf creaked, a steady rhythm growing in tandem with her gasps.

Her hands left his jaw, fumbling with the front of her stays as she slipped loose the little hooks until it popped open, and he was already reaching for her, his fingers a shock of warmth where they slipped past the low cut of her blouse to cup one of her breasts, tiny in his hand, his sword-calluses rough where he caressed it, and her shivering moan was well received, from the deeper groan that left him, as Shanks slowed his pace, touching her as he took her, until the shelves were rattling.

Bending down, he kissed her chest, his lips seeking the wide valley between her breasts, her flushed skin pearling with sweat. His beard scuffed her breast as he pulled it free, and she gasped, arching against the shelf as he curled his tongue around a painfully sensitive nipple, her lips parting over his name where it left her in a whimper.

He came like that, her skirt shoved up her hips and her silk stockings slipping down her legs, spread to him where she sat, the pages of her ledger crumpled and damp beneath her; the stereotype of the lascivious tavern wench, but she embraced it now, shockingly indulgent in her own lewdness, watching him as he finished with deep, pulsing shudders, a groan leaving him that had her toes curling in her boots.

His eyes slitted open, the grey steel muted, but even then his full attention was arresting; a single look enough to dismiss everything else in the world, as though she was the only thing in it.

She watched as they swept across her, her breasts bared to the air and her thighs spread, his cock still inside her, but she didn’t squirm or try to hide, only allowed him to see.

Bending forward, Shanks kissed the parting of her hair, his breath winded as he leaned some of his weight on her. His knuckles brushed her cheek, catching the tears that had spilled over without her notice. His ring was cool against her skin; wrapping around the back of her neck, she felt how they shook.

Carding her fingers through his hair, she felt him exhale, but he didn’t let her go, just held her like that, the protective frame of his body between her and the door, hiding her from view, and nothing could have touched her there, in that moment.

His fingers trailed down the dip between her shoulder blades. Her blouse clung to her skin, the air within the storeroom damp and smelling of them, but she couldn’t even worry that someone would stumble across them, although had enough presence of mind to think that she should probably fix herself up before their first customers arrived, but was distracted by the deep chuckle that left him, and his voice where it rumbled into her skin,

“Where’s your husband now, barmaid?”

Her laugh trembled, and her arms tightened around his neck, pulling him closer and pressing her nose into the hollow of his throat. She loved him like this, freed of worry, if only for a little while. And that was her power; the only one she could claim, but it wasn’t a small thing in this age, to command peace.

And she knew how he expected her to react, because he knew her better than anyone, and never let an opportunity to make her flustered pass him by.

But she knew him, too, and like him, she knew exactly how to nudge him off balance. Which was why she said, demure as anything, “He’s ploughing his wife.”

She felt the hand on her neck pausing, the slight stiffening in him betraying his surprise, before his shoulders convulsed, as Shanks bent forward with a laugh.

The sound filled her, loud and lovely, but a softness about it that was hers, that tender, half-winded thing. She thought the whole village had to hear it, and that it would wake the baby, but she didn’t care, her own laughter helpless, hearing his, and feeling the way his arm tightened around her, which said more than any other gesture or word, even as Shanks murmured roughly, “I love you.”

Cupping his face with her hands, she pressed her forehead against his. “It will be okay,” Makino said, and didn’t care that she couldn’t make that promise; that there were other forces that wanted their say. But she wouldn’t hide from her choices, and him least of all. “You’ll see.”

Shanks said nothing, only held her, but he didn’t disagree this time, which she counted as a small victory, and it was what gave her the courage to quip, “And if anyone asks, I’ll tell them my husband can’t be held down. His heart belongs to the sea. It’s just the way things are, in this day and age.”

His eyes found hers. In the dim light, they looked darker, but she knew the look in them, and like the laugh, that was hers, too. “I thought we agreed that we were going for accuracy,” Shanks said. A tender smile curved his mouth, as he told her roughly, “And that you’re a terrible liar.”

Her grin couldn’t be contained, splitting her face, wide and without shame, and his.

The sound of the bat-wing doors swinging open reached them, followed by their first customers arriving, and her grin fell as horror widened her eyes, before she scrambled to pull her stays closed.

A voice from the bar drifted through the door―“Huh? Where’s Makino-chan?”

“That’s odd,” said another, as her mortification deepened, recognising one of her mother’s oldest patrons; a man who’d seen her toddle around in diapers. “Red-Hair’s not here, either. They’re usually open by now.”

Shanks’ grin grew, and she saw the punishment for her disobedience in the gleam in his eyes, and hissed, “Shanks, no―”

But she wasn’t quick enough, as he turned his head towards to call out, “She’s coming! Or she will be.” And before her horror could fully sink in, added brightly, “Just give me a few minutes to finish; I want to make sure she does.”

Her hands clapping over his mouth didn’t succeed in muffling his laughter, but then even her embarrassment couldn’t hold out against the grin that split his face now, which held no trace of his earlier seriousness, as he nipped and kissed her fingers until her mortification dissolved with her laughter.

When they emerged a few minutes later, after she’d blankly refused to let him get her off first (although had agreed to revisiting it after closing), it was to find their regulars waiting, knowing looks exchanged above poorly-stifled grins as she with every ounce of prim dignity she possessed asked them if they wanted their usual, all the while ignoring Shanks’ eyes following her as she made her way between the tables. Although having taken their orders, she caught the fond murmur as she made for the bar―

“Married life suits her, doesn’t it?”

“Aye, it does. Shame Em ain’t here to see it.”

Her smile ruined her prim composure, but she claimed it for herself, and kept her chin high as she walked to the bar where Shanks was waiting, leaning back against the kegs.

“What?” he asked, when she reached him, lifting up on her toes to steal a kiss; not something she usually did, shy about public displays, unlike him, and relished in his surprise at her brazenness, shaping his grin, a gentler thing than in the storeroom earlier.

Her own smile was small, as she lowered back on her heels, her head tipped back to look up at him, noting the dish-towel slung over his shoulder, a different kind of captain, with no sea underfoot, but a captain still.

“Nothing,” Makino said, before reciting, “One egg over easy, and―”

“―one sunny-side up, hash browns on the side of both, and a single serving of bacon, because old man Nakamura is watching his cholesterol.”

At her look of surprise, he only smiled, and bent his head to kiss her once, before he made for the kitchen, a grin thrown over his shoulder, leaving her staring after him, and wondering how he could have ever expected her to pretend to be the person she’d been before him.

The doors swinging open drew her gaze to his crew, and her smile blossomed as they greeted her, loudly and cheerfully. And there was no doubt in their minds what she was, catching their cheeky bows and tipped hats, but she didn’t shy from their reverence where it named her, and more clearly than any ring or vow.

“Hey, where’s that husband of yours?” Yasopp asked her, when she appeared at their table to take their orders. Someone had given him the baby, awake and peering up at all the faces around him. Yasopp made a face at him, and when he got a gummy little smile, asked him in a sing-song voice, “What’s his name again?”

“Keeps slipping my mind,” Ben agreed, grinning around his toothpick.

“Wait, who are we talking about?”

“Makino’s husband.”

“Oh, right! That guy.”

The others joined in, feigning forgetfulness, their laughter growing in volume, until there was nothing left of the quiet morning, dissolving like the sea mist as the sun claimed its seat in the sky.

Her playful look warned them, although her smile indulged their cheeky insubordination, knowing well just how far it was from the truth. Because she could imagine their reactions to the suggestion, however teasingly made, about a stand-in husband in their captain’s absence, endearingly protective, and not just of her. She would spare poor Magra that.

“He’s here,” Makino said, and heard in the words the fleeting truth, but didn’t care if she wouldn’t be able to say the same a month from now, or two. He’d be home again soon, with the tide. They all would.

Emerging from the kitchen, Shanks took one look at the room and stopped, a different kind of concern furrowing his brow now as every grin within turned towards him. “What did I miss?”

Coming over to where she was standing, he put the tray he was carrying on the table. The look he gave her said he had his suspicions, and that her innocent smile was fooling no one.

Then a gleam entered his eyes, and Makino knew she was in trouble even before he chirped, “Did you tell them about your plan to get a stand-in husband in my absence?”

Their grins fell, and Makino closed her eyes.

Poor Magra.

“A what?!”

She didn’t get a stand-in, but she didn’t take the ring off, either―a small act of rebellion, but it was the only thing she could do in opposition to the system that governed their world, and the laws that would punish her for her choices. And maybe there was a little pride there, too, but then loving him was her greatest crime, and she’d accept all charges against her, pleading guilty to whatever court would see her put on trial, mortal or otherwise. Those were her wedding vows, too; the ones she hadn’t spoken aloud to him.

Her bar saw the occasional new visitor, on their way to Goa or further still, who’d seen the lights from afar and decided to have a look, but there was only one who asked about the ring, and who didn’t bat an eye when she told him her husband was currently across the island signing off on a shipment. He’d only remarked positively on their bar, and said that no tavern in Goa Port he’d been to had been as hospitable.

(She hadn’t questioned his manners, unfailingly good, almost military-like; hadn’t looked closely enough at the set of his shoulders, that proud bearing she’d known since childhood, from the grizzled marine who’d ruffle her hair until her kerchief sat askew and who’d sneak her gifts behind her mother’s back.)

Garp would have seen through him, she would realise later, but she’d been so busy trying to keep up appearances, she’d forgotten to question if her visitor was doing the same.

She was getting ready to open―had just finished lifting the chairs off the tables and had gone into the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee when she remembered it wasn’t necessary, and had instead gone to wring out the rag to wipe down the counter when she heard the bat-wing doors swinging inwards.

Ace was asleep in his crib, safe under the counter behind the curtain she’d pulled closed, and she didn’t pause at her early visitor, as emerging from the kitchen, she called out, forgetting for a moment that she was alone, the we invoked so easily, even weeks after he’d left, “I’m sorry, but we’re not open yet―”

The words cut off, as she came to a halt.

She could smell the cigar smoke from across the room, the butt smouldering like the embers in her hearth, an almost unnatural glow in its burning eye where it fastened on her like a brand.

The white coat was the first thing she noticed, but she would have recognised him even out of uniform, the straight shoulders and the flower tattoo peeking out from under his shirt, the garishly patterned kind that reminded her of Garp, but that was where their similarities ended.

He was flanked by two officers, their caps pulled low over their brows, but she recognised the one on the left, dark-haired and dimpled and refusing to meet her eyes, his hands white-knuckled around the rifle he was holding. He’d loved her cooking so much he’d asked for a fourth helping; had said it reminded him of his sister’s, who he hadn’t seen in years.

The Fleet Admiral took her in, a single sweep of his eyes across her announcing his feelings, something far more personal than simple contempt in the furrow of his brow. Judge, jury, and executioner; he’d already decided her charges, and what her punishment would be, for the choices she’d made. The only crime she’d committed, but for a man like him, it was enough.

And she’d been right. In the end, the ring hadn’t mattered.

“Arrest her.”

#Shanks x Makino #Shanks/Makino #Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks #Akagami no Shanks #Red-Haired Shanks x Makino #Makino #One Piece #One Piece fanfiction #opfanfic #fanfiction #mungoe writes #Shanties for the Weary Voyager #sharing snippets of my WIPs helps me feel like I'm being productive #this story isn't meant to be very long mind #(and I know - famous last words haha)#but I'm hoping this might pique someone's interest!

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fighterkimburgess · 4 years ago

Note

“Are you hurt? What happened?” fluff prompt with hank x reader.

Thank you so much for your writing. It gets me going through hard times 🐢

Thank you for such a lovely comment! Sorry it’s taken me so long, but I hope you enjoy.

Fluff prompt 22: “Are you hurt? What happened?”

Warnings: Age gap, pregnancy, canon typical violence. Part of my Age Gap series (I think I need to set up a part of my masterlist for that!

Want to join my taglist?

“Are you hurt? What happened?” Your husband came running into your ER cubicle, and you breathed deeply looking at his concerned face.

“Hank, I’ll be fine. They popped my arm back in, it’s just bruising now..” Your words didn’t make him feel any better, and you watched as his anger flared before he pushed it back. “How’d you even get in here? Halstead is talking to everyone at 51 now?”

“I told them it was police business and waved my badge.” You laughed at your husband’s face, beckoning him over for a hug.

“You are ridiculous. And I’m warning you, Sylvie and Casey will be the first people in here. Behave?” You raised an eyebrow and he nodded. In his defence he had started to be better with your Captain, they’d mostly put the Hank’s previous egregious behaviour in the past, but you didn’t want his worry to explode.

“Here’s where she is, she’ll be…” Will Halstead’s voice trailed off as he saw your husband already in there with you. “Sergeant. I didn’t see you in the waiting room?”

“Police business.”

“I believe you. Anyway, like I told your wife’s coworkers, she’ll be fine. We’re just waiting on her bloods to come back before we release her. PT for a couple of weeks for the dislocation and she’ll be good as new.” He stepped aside for your partner and your Captain to walk in, and Sylvie immediately hugged you.

“Voight! You scared me, are you ok? How do you feel?” You smiled at her and her husband as you held Hank’s hand.

“I’ll be fine. Minor dislocation thanks to the patient, but it’ll be ok. My fault for not just handing over the meds bag.” Hank’s eyebrow raised as he heard your words.

“What exactly happened?” His voice was cool, and you rubbed your thumb on the back of his hand before you spoke, but Matt cut in.

“They were called out to a suspected overdose on their own, but it was a trap to try get any painkillers they had on the rig. CPD were called immediately, but your wife refused to hand over the drug bag. She got her arm wrenched when they got it away, but CPD recovered everything because of her stalling. She still has to go over an incident report, but she’ll be fine.” You tried to cover your face with your hands at Matt’s words, but Hank didn’t let you.

“She was kickass. I mean as PIC I strongly disapprove, but she was great at it.” Sylvie held up your backpack from work. “I figured you’ll be off shift the next while, so I grabbed your bag. Stella wants me to let you know that she’ll call around tomorrow while Hank’s in work so you’re not lonely.

“I’ll be fine! What trouble can I get myself into?” You asked, receiving a triple eye roll from all of them.

“Don’t answer that question, it’s not worth the hardship,” Hank said, kissing your head. “Casey, Brett, thanks for being here and looking out for her. I appreciate it.” He shook Matt’s hand, a slightly surprised look on the Captain’s face.

“She’s part of 51, Sergeant. We’re always going to look out for each other.” Your coworkers left with a wave, leaving you and Hank sitting there.

“I was worried when it came over the radio in the car. I think Ruzek thought I was going to drive through cars to get here. He’s outside waiting for me, I’m mid case so I can’t stay long.” At his words Halstead came in with an iPad.

“Everything looks all set, it’s all normal. Hank, can I have a minute with her just to go over the discharge notes? It’s policy now, have to do it with just the patient.” You rolled your eyes, but let go of his hand.

“I’ll see you in a minute. Love you.” He kissed you goodbye, a love you on his lips. “What’s the prognosis, Will? PT?” He checked Hank was gone before coming over.

“Yeah, we’ve referred you upstairs. You should be ok but we want to be sure. We got your bloodwork back, and you’re pregnant. Based on the hormone levels, I’d say six weeks.” A grin spread across your face, and at the sight Will relaxed.

“Is that why you sent Hank out? Because you wanted to tell me?”

“Yeah. We needed to tell you on your own if it’s an ER result. New rules around domestic abuse - not that we’d consider that for you! It’s cause—“

“Will, I get it. Plus it gives me a chance to have a good way to tell him. Call him in and we can leave?”

Hank brought you out to the car, and he and Ruzek drove you home. You got a hug from Hank and a wave from Adam before relaxing into the couch. Pulling up your phone, you searched for the baby outfit you wanted and hit purchase, smiling at the thought.

Two days later it had arrived, and you had the print out of the bloodwork that Will had given you. Hank was finishing work, and you put everything in a gift bag for him. It didn’t take long for him to arrive home, wrapping you in a hug when he put the pizza on the table.

“Missed you,” he whispered before giving you a kiss, and you nearly melted into his touch.

“Missed you too. C’mon, food.” You picked up the bag and handed it over to him, his eyes wide.

“It’s not our anniversary or my birthday, what did I miss?”

“It’s just a present, Hank, I wanted to get you something nice.” He pulled out the bloodwork receipt first, unsure what he was looking at. When he put it down he pulled out the onesie, looking at the “My Daddy’s a CPD cop” print on the front. His eyes filled with tears as he stared over at you.

“Really? You’re sure?” He asked, his fingers running over the print on the very small garment.

“Will confirmed it in the ER with a blood test. I’ve my first OB appointment next week for us to see what’s going on.”

Hank came over, dropping to his knees in front of you and touching your still flat stomach with reverence. “I’m gonna get to be your Dad, and I’m so excited to meet you.”

Taglist: @ohitsnicolexo @redpoodlern @wanniiieeee @trishxtrix @mileika @melblacc @mcgreads

#Cíara writes #hank voight #hank voight x reader #hank voight imagine #hank voight x you

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bonjour-rainycity · 4 years ago

Text

Imagine: Being friends with Alice and asking Carlisle for help on your chemistry homework

Characters: Cullen family, female reader

Rating: G

Word count: 2120

Warnings: None

Request by anon: Wait, omg I’m so happy I found a blog that’s updated recently and I’m definitely gonna ✨stalk✨ your blog and read all your writing after hw but if you’re still doing requests, I thought of something that I would just love to see written. And this could be short or something, y’know? It can be whatever you want it to be, but what if the reader is somewhat friends with the Cullens? Reader (maybe like 20 years old?) is invited to their house one weekend after bumping into Alice and becoming friends and from passing conversation, reader knows that Carlisle is a doctor so she asks him if he could help her with her organic chemistry hw cause she’s studying to be a med student?

A/n Wow I’m so sorry this took me so long! It’s such a cute request and I loved writing it! Thanks for sending it in and for being patient with me :)

Shoot.

Mentally, I groan, stopping my progress towards my car.

I still have chem homework.

I fiddle with the keys in my hand, contemplating. You could go home…lay in bed…maybe with a pint of ice cream…and pass out in a stress and sugar-induced coma.

Oh, how tempting.

But then I remind myself of why I’m putting myself through the hell that is a STEM degree, and turn on my heel, heading back to campus. I know I won’t get any work done if I go home, so the library it is! Thank goodness it’s open twenty-four hours, because it’s creeping up to eleven and I don’t have the heart to return to one of the academic buildings.

Seeing as it’s Friday night, the library isn’t crowded. Still, I push past all the tables on the first floor and head up to my favorite spot on the second. Settling in at my favorite partially secluded table, I pull out my organic chemistry textbook, pop in my earbuds, and get to work.

{***}

A small, pale hand skims over the table near my book, and I look up with a start.

Alice Cullen stands by my desk, clutching a set of books that look too heavy for her thin arms, but she seems to be managing fine. She and I met during the first week of classes, and have been tentative friends ever since. We don’t see much of each other, given our varying degree programs, but she always greets me with a friendly smile and an offer to join her to study. I pull out my headphones, and give her a tired smile. “Hey, how’s it going?”

“Good!” She smiles excitedly, somehow keeping her energy levels at—I check the time on my phone—1:12 am! “Have you been here for long?”

I shrug, feeling the weight of the late hour on my shoulders. “Since around eleven. I was going home but then I forgot I have o-chem homework. I don’t think it should be taking me this long, but I’m struggling. Thankfully only half of it is due in the morning. The rest isn’t due until after the weekend.”

Alice peers over to look at my book and the problems I work through in my notebook. “Oh, those do look hard. But you know, my dad is a doctor, and he probably knows this stuff like the back of his hand. He’d be more than happy to help you.”

I blanch. An invitation to the Cullen’s house? And free help on o-chem homework?

But then I remember my manners. “Oh, thank you, but I couldn’t—”

“Please,” she squeaks, balancing her books in one arm and using the other to retrieve her phone. “We’d be happy to have you over! I’ll let my family know. Does tomorrow around lunchtime work?”

“Uh,” I swallow, not sure I’m believing my ears. “That works great, thank you! I can bring the food?”

She shakes her head, waving off the offer. “Don’t worry about it—Mom loves to cook and will be excited to really use the kitchen. Oh! And there’s this new series my sisters and I have been dying to watch. It’s called Broadchurch. Have you heard of it? Maybe we can start it and see if it’s any good!”

I nod dumbly, too tired and relieved for the help to refuse again. “That sounds fun! Thank you.”

“Of course,” she smiles, shrugging like it’s nothing. “What are friends for?”

My smile softens. She considers us friends. “Do you want to walk out together? It’s pretty late.”

She beams and waits while I collect my stuff.

{***}

I pull up to the front of the massive house.

Alice is waiting for me on the porch. She waves excitedly, and I notice her fiancé standing near the door, looking uncomfortable. I stifle a chuckle. It’s well-known that Jasper, introvert in every sense of the word, fell hard for Alice who is the embodiment of an extravert. I wave, grabbing my backpack and stepping out of the car.

“Welcome,” Alice practically shouts. Jasper gives me a polite nod.

I smile at the two of them, calling out my hello’s and climbing the stairs to the porch. The second Jasper opens the door, I’m greeted by the warm smile of Esme Cullen.

“Hello, Y/n, welcome to our home! We are so happy to have you here.” She extends a warm smile, one I can’t help but return immediately.

Alice leads us straight to the living room, where two of her adoptive siblings, Emmett and Rosalie, lounge. Rosalie sketches something I can’t see, and Emmett yells loudly at the TV, losing at a video game.

“Beat it, Emmett,” Alice chirps, dancing over and taking the controller from his hands. “We’re going to watch Broadchurch.”

Putting his frustration at the game aside, Emmett grins, standing and ruffling Alice’s hair. “Alright, I was getting my ass kicked anyway. Hey, Y/n, good to see you again.”

I return his greeting, familiar with Emmett from an intro to theatre class we had together last semester. The image of his interpretation of Juliet for our final project comes to mind, and I have to stifle a laugh. Emmett goes to leave the room, pulling Jasper with him.

“Send Bella down, would you,” Alice calls after them, already settling on the couch. “Rose, you know Y/n, right?”

Rosalie looks up from her sketching. She smiles briefly at me, then returns to her task. I sit awkwardly next to Alice, waiting for Bella so we can start the show.

“There aren’t many women in STEM.”

My head shoots up, wide eyes turning in Rosalie’s direction. She doesn’t look up from her work, but I know she’s addressing me—Alice is studying fashion merchandising and design.

“Y-yeah,” I stammer. Alice’s older sister is just so intimidating. Well-spoken, obviously intelligent, tall, prettier than anyone I’ve ever met, and top of her law class. She’s not exactly warm either, like her mother or sister—even now, there’s a cold bite to her tone. But the edges of her lips quirk up, and I can tell she’s being nice.

“Don’t let the guys push you around. What you’re doing is important, and you’re probably smarter than them. What do you want to do with your degree?”

The answer, always on my heart and mind, is automatic. “I want to be a doctor. So, med school is next.”

She nods once. “Good.”

And apparently that’s the end of our conversation.

I try to hide my smile by rummaging around in my backpack for my water bottle. It’s nice to feel supported.

Bella comes gliding down the stairs and twists into the living room, folding herself easily onto the love seat. She greets me, and then tosses me the throw over the back of her couch. Alice nods as if forgetting something, then reaches into a basket hidden between our couch and Rosalie’s chair and produces three more blankets, throwing two to her sisters and keeping one for herself. She shoots me a grin as each of us, even the serious Rosalie, snuggles up.

Alice stands, turning off the lights and then wraps back in her blanket and scoots near me on the couch. “I hope this is good!” With a grin, she opens Netflix and plays the first episode.

{***}

Broadchurch does not disappoint. Before I know it, we’re halfway through the second episode, eyes glued to the screen. Bella, who was definitely reading a book under her blanket at the start, has put it to the side, leaning forward and watching the show intently.

The front door creaks, then clicks closed, and Alice smiles, pressing pause on the remote. “Dad’s home.”

Before long, the famed local doctor comes in to say hi to the girls and to greet me. He’s just as welcoming as his wife!

“Alice told me you are having trouble with some organic chemistry homework?”

I nod, hoping it’s not too much to ask for his help. “I got a good start on some of the problems last night, but I keep messing up. I’m not really sure where I’m going wrong—there’s no answer key so I can’t work backwards through the problems.”

He nods, casually resting his hands in the pocket of his slacks. “I remember o-chem homework quite well.” He grins conspiratorially. “It is the bane of many a med student’s existence. Why don’t you girls finish up your episode and then join Esme and me in the kitchen for lunch? I can take a look at your homework if you like.”

Relief washes over me. “That would be great, thank you so much.”

He smiles warmly. “Of course. Now, if you all will excuse me….” With a twinkle in his eye, he leaves us to rejoin his wife.

This family is so nice! I wonder why they get so much flack at school?

Alice resumes the episode, and soon my musings are washed away as I try to piece together the mystery of the murder before the detectives can.

{***}

Esme is a wonderful cook. Carlisle sings her praises but doesn’t fix a plate for himself, saying he ate plenty as she was cooking. We all sit down at the table, though I’m the only one who eats in earnest — Bella claims to be filled up on snacks, Rose says she’s on a diet, and Alice takes a small helping for herself, every now and then poking the chicken in mild disgust. I don’t see what the problem is, the food is fantastic!

Carlisle sits down next to me, and I slide my textbook and notebook in his direction. He smiles, looking almost nostalgic. “I remember these. The good news is, as a doctor, you won’t be doing much of this in day-to-day life, if at all. But it is important for some courses you will take in medical school, so it’s best to master the concepts now. See, on number nineteen, you start the problem correctly, but get lost once you have to balance the equation to continue. Instead of waiting until the middle to balance, I would do that first, that way, you have a solid base before moving on to solve the rest of the problem.”

I nod, peering over at the paper intently. I hadn’t tried that strategy before.

Carlisle takes out a pen, and begins scratching out an equation. Then, he grins, shaking his head, and crosses it out, starting again in much neater handwriting. “Forgive my penmanship. Though, if you decide to continue and become a practicing doctor, your handwriting will soon be indecipherable, too.”

From across the table, Rosalie snorts, and I can’t help but laugh along. It seems almost a rite of passage for a doctor to have horrendous handwriting.

In clearer script, Carlisle continues working out the problem, then slides the paper over for me to see. He explains what he did at each step, and I nod along, trying to commit as much of it to memory as possible. He works out another problem in the same way, then asks me to try on my own. I smile tentatively as I go, hesitant to accept that I actually know how to do the problem now.

But I do.

It takes concentration to work through the steps, but I can, which is a far cry from where I was last night. Carlisle waves off my thanks, saying I just needed to try a different approach, but I had it within me all along. I bring up another section I had issues with—structures of the elements—and Carlisle teaches me a better strategy for memorizing a few and then figuring out the rest. By the time Esme and Bella have put the food away, my homework is done—in a fourth of the time it would have taken me struggling through it on my own.

“Seriously, Dr. Cullen, thank you so much.”

He smiles pleasantly, handing me back my textbook. “Of course. If you need help again, just come on over. I know the girls love having the company, and my wife and I enjoyed the opportunity to meet you as well.”

Esme appears behind her husband, laying her hands affectionately on his shoulders. “Absolutely, Y/n. Please come over any time.”

I pack up my homework and thank them once again for lunch and for the help. Alice darts to my side, grinning. “Ready to finish the episode?”

I feel so much lighter now that my homework is done, and I don’t feel guilty at all for spending time with my new friends. In fact, I may even indulge in that ice cream when I get home.

“Absolutely.”

A/n Thanks for reading! If you have a moment, here’s the link to my masterlist :)

#twilight #twilight renaissance #platonic twilight #carlisle cullen #alice cullen #jasper cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie cullen #esme cullen #bella cullen #twilight imagine #carlisle imagine #alice imagine

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years ago

Text

Unholy Matrimony Pt. 1 (Nessian)

Nesta’s part of the Damnation Series.

OOF this took so long sorry. I rewrote it, changed it, then deleted it entirely about 9 times. I literally started writing the version before you, from scratch, on Sunday. All parts are linked below, so I’m only tagging people on this version! To go to the next chapter, there is also a link at the bottom <3

ALSO, an important caviat: Nesta is an only child in this one! I originally wrote it for her to be adopted and not know it, but it wasn’t really relevant to the story, so... idk. Just ignore that plot hole I guess.

Parts 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 -- pls like each part I’m insecure

______________________________________________

~Cassian~

“You’re getting married.”

The glass of bourbon halfway to my mouth pauses, because despite being known for being rash and unpredictable, even I’m surprised by the sudden change in conversation.

My eyebrows raise as I look over at Rhysand, my best friend and Capo, trying to figure out if this bastard is serious. His tone says he is, but that doesn’t make sense, because before a few seconds ago, the word “marriage” was in neither of our vocabularies.

He’s been single for as long as I have, although I’m starting to suspect he’s got a bird in the city. He’s too damn happy these days, and the other day I saw him laugh at something on his phone.

Which is weird, because we both know long-term commitments don’t really do well with our lifestyle.

We were raised to not give a shit about anything except the job. We kill without remorse, live in the shadows, and whatever other shitty euphemism you want to use. Settling down in some suburban, picket-fence prison has absolutely no appeal to Made Men.

Don’t get me wrong, most of us get married at some point. But never for love.

Some men choose a bride that’s pretty and sweet. Someone who will donate to charity and help clean up their image. Governors’ daughters, women from old-money families, and social princesses make up this category.

Some men marry to advance their station in the Family. Second sons who will never inherit the business marry daughters of Underbosses to get a nice boost to their status.

And then there’s the ones who are forced to marry by their capo--ie. me-- so they choose whatever attractive woman that’s in the Family and available. Those are always the happiest.

But regardless of the reasoning, marriage in the mafia is heartless, political, and for me, unnecessary.

I know I’ll have to pick someone eventually, but there aren’t a whole lot of desirable options at the moment. Not many of the other Underbosses have daughters that are over the age of fifteen right now, and I have no interest in doing the child-bride thing.

Plus, there’s no way I’d marry someone outside of the family. At my rank, it isn’t an option.

That leaves... a widow?

The only one I know is Ianthe, and considering I highly suspect she killed her last husband and the fact that she’s crazy, there’s no way in hell I’d legally bind myself to her for life.

So he must be joking.

I take a pull from my cigar and look over at Rhys with narrowed eyes. “Uh huh. Sure. To who, exactly?”

“Volchonok.”

The Wolf Cub.

The cigar snaps in my fingers.

“You’re fucking kidding,” I say, honestly hoping that’s the case. He’s either that or insane, and I’d hate to lock someone who’s like a brother to me in a padded room.

Rhysand’s unflinching gaze doesn’t change, but his tone morphs from that of my friend to my boss. “You will marry her, Cassian.”

“She’s a fucking Russian,” I spit, not understanding. That should be reason enough for him to be joking.

In our world, being Russian is a crime similar to stabbing the Pope.

We’ve been at war over New York with them ever since they decided to try and get a stronghold on the east coast, and I’ve killed more of them than I can fucking count. Now I’m marrying one?

“Yes, she is, and so is her father, Alexei Olov.” Aka the Bratva Boss responsible for blowing up half of St. Petersburg last year when the local police refused to buy his weapons. “You will marry her, move to New York full time, and run the city with her by your side.”

“Why? Two or three more years, and we’ll have the city anyway.” Every day the Russians get weaker, and I’ve been responsible for pushing them out of my city block by block.

So there has to be a reason we’re suddenly okay with the enemy.

Rhysand sighs. “It was his idea, not mine. Orlov has agreed to sell our coke in Moscow and Seattle instead of his usual dealer and will supply us all the weapons we need for five years. There will also be no more midnight raids, bullshit arrests on bullshit charges, or missing shipments. He’s offering you a dowry, too.”

I don’t need his money, but the old fashioned term makes me laugh.

“Yeah? And how much does he think his wolf cub is worth?”

His lips twitch. “Ten million.”

“She must be a real pain in the ass, then, if he’s going to pay me that much to take her,” I chuckle.

Not that ten million dollars is anything but pocket change for the man. Orlov may be losing the fight in New York, but the bastard is richer than sin.

Selling arms to half of the entire world will do that to a person.

“I hear she’s beautiful,” he says, trying to tempt me to not fight him.

“Then you marry her,” I shoot back, not ready to give up the argument.

“I don’t feel like it.” Fucking typical. Rhysand sighs. “You and I both know we can work this deal to our advantage, so what will make you say yes?”

He could order to me to say yes and I’d have to, but he hates enforcing that kind of authority with me.

So I think it over, make a show of lighting a new cigar. “I want Sera.”

It’s a burlesque club in New York I’ve always been a little envious of, owned by Orlov and operated by his men. I’d tried to buy it a few years back but hadn’t had enough leverage on the Russian to strongarm him into selling.

Now I do.

Rhysand--the only one who knows about my failed attempt to buy the place--nods and tells me he’ll make it happen.

“When’s all this happening, anyway?”

He looks like he might laugh. “Wedding is in a month, but she’s flying in tomorrow night.”

A quick laugh forces its way out of me. Also typical of him to give me absolutely no time to change my mind.

Well, I have a month. That’s already longer than any relationship I’ve ever had.

Sighing, I stand and shake his hand, cementing the deal before I can even lament the loss of my bachelorhood.

~Nesta~

“Chto sluchilos?”

I slide my gaze to my father, because seriously, that’s the stupidest fucking question I’ve ever heard.

What’s wrong? What’s wrong? Everything.

“Nichego,” I lie, assuring him for what feels like the tenth time as I look out the window. The plane picks up speed and lifts off, taking me towards an uncertain future, an uncertain place.

I might have told him nothing’s wrong, but inside, I’m screaming.

Three days ago, I woke up to find a marriage contract on the pillow beside me. There was a blank space where my name had been typed and a pen waiting for me to remedy that.

I still haven’t.

I’m not signing anything until I meet this... Cassian.

God, what an Italian name.

An image springs to mind, one of a slumped-over, hairy-chest beast with slicked back hair and a gold chain.

I know it’s stereotypical and hopefully incorrect, but I’ve never been to Italy and Alexei strictly forbids me watching movies that portray Italians as anything except revolting.

But looks aside, there’s one thing I don’t need to guess to know.

My future husband will be like all the other men in my life: controlling.

Men in the world I live in take what they want, don’t ask for permission, and feel like they’re entitled to anything and everything. I’ve dealt with it my entire life, so it’s more amusing than anything at this point.

I guess I’m a bit non-traditional in that sense, considering most of the women around me have no problems taking orders from their fathers or husbands. But Alexei and I figured out pretty early in life that wasn’t going to work for me.

As he frequently likes to tell me, I started telling him to fuck off when I was five.

What did he expect? All the kids I hung out with were the opposite sex and at least five years older than me, so my vocabulary and mannerisms became pretty... colorful early on.

Regardless, I’m just not looking forward to having to deal with yet another man who thinks he can control me.

“Ty vresh',” Alexei accuses, lips twitching. You’re lying.

“Konechno.” Of course.

Of course I’m upset, but I understand what’s happening. I might have found out about it three days ago, but I’ve known it was coming for far longer.

As the only child of the great Alexei Orlov, Wolf of Moscow and Pakhan of the Russian Bratva, I’ve been told my entire life that I will one day be used as a pawn to gain more power.

It would--should--piss me off, but I’ve also been told I’m to one day take my father’s place and run his company.

So by gaining more power for him, I’m also doing the same for myself.

Not that I really give a shit about that kind of thing. I started officially working for Alexei years ago, and I already have enough money saved to never have to work again.

But in the Bratva, there’s no getting out. I was put in this world by birth, and the only thing that will take me out is death.

In case it isn’t obvious, I’m not a typical business woman.

My father is an arms-dealer.

A less than legal one, if you believe the heinous lies the media spreads about him.

He sells weapons to governments, private armies, and whoever the fuck else has the money to buy.

He’s also built himself a shipping empire to haul said weapons around the globe, runs the drugs and prostitute rings in Moscow, and has enough real estate to rival most small countries.

It probably sounds like I don’t care, and that’s because I don’t.

I like what I do in the sense that I have a mind for business. I went to business school and graduated at the top of my class, and I enjoy running the clubs and hotels I have. Trained by Alexei himself, I’m ruthless in negotiations, enough so that people started calling me the Wolf Cub by the time I was twenty.

But despite being good at it, I’m not particularly fond of the aspect most people think of when they picture my career in the Bratva. I detest drugs, have never hired a prostitute, and don’t really enjoy selling arms to bad people.

The alleyway meetups, the broken bones and bullet holes, and the blown up houses are all a little tiring to me.

Sure, it sounds exciting. And for a while, it was. I used to lose myself in the chaos, used to enjoy coming home with busted knuckles. But I honestly just got tired of it.

Right now, I don’t have to deal with it as much because Alexei’s still alive. But when he dies and I officially take over the family business, I’ll have to be more involved. Even if the thought makes me want to sigh.

I pull out my laptop and look over the financial report for Sera, my newest club in New York. As predicted, everything’s running smoothly.

I turn the laptop around to show my father, grinning when he pulls out his reading glasses and leans closer.

“Starik,” I tease. Old man.

He flicks my forehead, then reads the report and nods. Then he turns to his phone, probably playing Angry Birds or some shit, and leaves me to work.

The plane ride goes by quickly, and by the time we’ve landed in Chicago, I’ve gotten ahead on my schedule for next week, slept, and changed into what I’ve chosen as the “meeting my future husband” dress.

It’s simple and sleek, the black material clinging to my curves without being obscene. It’s long enough to hide the holster on my thigh, not that I feel in any danger with four personal guards stationed near me at all times.

My heels click as I make my way down the plane stairs and across the tarmac to the waiting sedan, and once my luggage and belongings are unloaded, we head to the Italian Capo’s house.

We’re meeting here, finalizing the contract, and then Cassian and I are flying to New York.

My new home.

“Try to look happy,” Alexei tells me, his heavily accented English almost ridiculous to hear. He speaks English only when he’s in the states, and considering he hasn’t come here since I graduated B school two years ago, he’s a little out of practice.

“I’m ecstatic,” I say, intentionally using a word I know he doesn’t understand.

His eyes narrow, because it isn’t the first time I’ve used this trick, but he doesn’t call me out on it. We continue to ride in ecstatic silence, eventually pulling up in front of the Capo’s... house.

It’s almost obscene to call it that, considering it’s fucking huge. Like obnoxiously huge.

I heave a sigh, step out of the car, and take in my surroundings. The neighborhood’s quiet, likely filled with friends of the Cosa Nostra too scared to make any noise.

A butler--seriously, a butler--opens the door and welcomes us inside, and as soon as I step in, I have to repress the urge to roll my eyes.

The amount of dirty money in the air is suffocating. It drips off the vaulted ceilings, down the artwork on the walls, across the marble floors. It’s in the little details of the crystal chandeliers and the mahogany staircase.

Ridiculous.

One look at Alexei’s disgusted face says he’s thinking the same thing.

Don’t get me wrong, we’re rich. Grossly so. Alexei could have ten houses just like this, if he wanted them.

But he doesn’t. He owns property all over the world, but most of it is commercial or apartment complexes--property that makes him money, in other words. This, however, is a massive waste of capital.

The butler leads us further through the house and into an office where four men wait.

One is immediately identifiable as their lawyer, his over-priced cologne making me have to resist the urge to sneeze. The humongous man in the corner is hired muscle, if the boxy shape of the guns under his jacket is any indication.

The man behind the desk is obviously in charge, so I’m guessing he’s the Capo. Rhysand or Rhyland or something weird like that. He takes me in silently, bright eyes not seeming to miss any details.

That leaves the man leaning against the desk to be Cassian Azara.

My fiancé.

Our eyes meet, his golden gaze beautiful and wild, and I have to remember to keep my expression bored.

Because the stereotype, the horrible image I’d conjured up in my mind, couldn’t be further from the truth.

For one, he isn’t hunched-over. He stands tall, leaning a hip against his Capo’s desk with obvious confidence. But I see more than just self-assuredness in his eyes. He seems a little too rough around the edges, wild gaze almost like he’s daring someone to swing at him.

If the confidence didn’t already make him attractive, his looks sure as hell get the job done.

His hairs long and dark and curly, half of it pulled up in a rouge manner that clashes with the suit he’s filling. He has a few days’ stubble, too, like standing still long enough to shave just isn’t an option.

His shoulders are impossibly wide, narrowing down to trim hips and legs long enough to make him tower over everyone in the room.

His knuckles are tattooed and split open, and there’s a cut above his eyebrow that tells me I was correct to assume he’s a fighter by nature.

Usually, that would be a deterrent for me, but there’s something about the way he’s dressed in a dark suit jacket and crisp white shirt while also looking so untamed that has me cocking my head to study him some more.

He studies me, too, beautiful eyes taking in the long blonde hair and bright blue eyes offset by pale skin. He looks at the dress like he can see everything underneath, and I have the strangest urge to blush. Jesus, he’s toxic.

He’s attractive, is what I’m getting at.

Which is not what I had planned on, considering I’d been trying to think of a plan on how to not sleep with him, but suddenly that’s all my mind can focus on.

His lips twitch like he knows what I’m thinking, and I realize we’ve just been standing here staring at each other for a bit too long.

So I turn back to Alexei and shrug like I’ve seen what my future husband has to offer and aren’t impressed in the slightest.

I toss the marriage contract on the desk, grab the Capo’s fancy little fountain pen out of his hand, and sign my name on the blank above my name.

Cassian watches, but I ignore him entirely until the ink has dried. Then I look up at him through my lashes and wink, turn on my heel, and leave the room.

~Cassian~

I think I’m in love.

Fuck.

She hasn’t said a single goddamn word, but the way she looked at me has me feeling itchy all over, anticipation and nerves rolling through me. I feel like I feel before I fight or something exciting happens.

Like I’m primed and ready and need it to happen now.

Nesta Orlov, my bride to be, is nothing like I expected.

I was fully braced for some meek little woman, similar to most of my friends’ wives, to come in and smile and say hello.

But nope. Nesta didn’t smile; she came in like she was walking onto a battlefield.

And she didn’t smile. She looked me over, clinical blue gaze noticing too much, and left me feeling winded. God, she’s beautiful. Just looking at her made me hot.

She also didn’t say hello.

Just signed the contract and left, like this was nothing more to her than a boring business deal. I mean, that’s what it is, but... I don’t know, I expected more of a reaction.

I’ve heard from some Underbosses that their wives cried or raged when they were forced to sign, but shit if that were the case with Nesta. She honest to God looked like she didn’t care.

Alexei, on the other hand, does look a little pissed about the situation, but I couldn’t care less of the old man’s opinion. He’s signed the contract, so to me, he’s irrelevant. Regardless, he and Rhys proceed to iron out some of the details about the wedding and other shit I’m not paying attention to.

Then they shake hands, and the Russian warlord turns to leave.

He reaches the door and looks over his shoulder at me, and there’s amusement in his cold gaze as he mutters, “Udachi.” Good luck.

As soon as he’s gone, Roman and the lawyer follow, leaving me alone with Rhys.

He slides the contract to me, and I sign my name next to hers, making this shit official.

“This should be interesting,” he comments, vague as usual.

I sigh, because I have a feeling interesting isn’t going to cover it.

_____________________________________________________

NEXT CHAPTER

Tags: @elorcan-trash @januarystears @emikadreams @sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @shinya-hiiragi @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @ireallyshouldsleeprn @highqueenofelfhame @rowaelinismyotp @nahthanks @ghostlyrose2 @lovemollywho @tillyrubes10 @claralady @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @thegoddessofyou @awesomelena555 @booksofthemoon @greerlunna @jlinez @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @masstrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #acosf countdown #acosf #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acosf fanfiction #a court of mist and fury

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sbtlns · 4 years ago

Text

Home, part nine

Warnings: NSFW, smut

A/N: this is the final part of this series! this is set at the same time as 9x09. I hope everyone had a great holiday season and wish everyone a very happy new year!

As the smoke cleared and the persistent whine of the fire trucks’ sirens finally stopped, Castiel absentmindedly thanked the firefighters, looking beyond them to your trembling form crumpled on what was left of your front stoop. The trucks drove off as he made his way to you, unsure of how to begin to comfort you. His shoes came into your line of vision and you sniffled, wiping a stray tear away as you lifted your head to meet his apologetic stare. You saw the sympathy and inexplicable guilt swirling behind his brilliant blues, and gave him a small smile, prompting him to hold his arms open, eager to hold and comfort you.

You let out a shaky chuckle, standing to gratefully melt into his embrace. Strong hands gripped you tighter to his chest and rubbed up and down your back, engulfing you in his warmth. “You know, it’s funny,” you said after a moment, pulling away just enough to look up at him. Castiel gave you a quizzical look, raising an eyebrow to prompt you to elaborate. “It’s like I’m finally getting the closure I didn’t know I needed. I’m-” you paused, searching for the right word. “I’m almost relieved. It’s like a fucked up ending to a fucked up chapter of my life,” you explained, glancing up at Castiel, whose expression softens at your words.

“I’ve always admired your tenacity, the steadfast determination you have to create a silver lining out of utter devastation,” he murmured into your hair, holding you closer. You stay like that for a while, finding comfort within each other’s embrace before you finally wriggle out of his hold.

“We can go apartment hunting tomorrow, the realtors are probably closed by now and besides, I don’t think I have it in me to look at any tonight,” you sighed, reaching for your phone to check the time. When you glanced back up, you’re met with a knowing look. Furrowing your brows, you stood a little straighter, unsure of what Cas could be getting at. “What?”

Cas looked back at you and sighed. “I think it’s time to call Dean, Y/N,” he said gently. You bristled at the thought.

“Yeah and what? Beg him to let us back in the bunker? I don’t think so,” you scoffed, not believing the incredulous suggestion from the former angel. You turned on your heel, not wanting to continue the conversation.

“Y/N,” he said softly, putting his hand on your shoulder to stop you from walking away from him. You sighed, releasing your tensed muscles. Deep down you knew he was right but you didn’t want to admit it. You knew that you couldn’t keep giving Dean the silent treatment, declining his calls and not responding to the numerous texts he’d sent you since you left.

“I know,” you said finally, turning around to face him. “I know,” you repeated. “But,” you started, smoothing the wrinkles from the front of his flannel, “We’re gonna have some fun first.” Castiel catches the glimmer of mischief in your eyes before you shift to your tiptoes to give him a quick peck on the cheek.

Castiel sat anxiously in the car as you drove the two of you to the old dive bar in town. He wasn’t too keen on social interactions, as he’d stated before that his “people skills” were “rusty”. However, after shooting you a quick glance and seeing you smile while humming whatever song was currently playing, he felt himself smile and relax a bit. Soon enough, you pulled the truck into the lot and hopped out. Taking a deep breath, he followed suit.

Castiel followed closely behind you as you made your way through the establishment and into an empty booth. He sat down and shrunk into the vinyl, suddenly overwhelmed at the sound of music blaring from the jukebox and dozens of people talking loudly over the music. He flinched as two bikers barreled past the booth and again at the sound of glasses clinking at the bar.

“Hey, angel, relax” you cooed, taking his hand from across the booth. His wide eyes found yours and you watched the rapid rise and fall of his chest start to slow. You flipped his hand over in yours, lightly tracing the lines of his palm, further soothing your overwhelmed lover. A pang of guilt suddenly washed over you as you remembered how apprehensive he is in places like this. You looked back up at him and gave him a soft smile.

“We don’t have to stay,” you murmured only loud enough for him to hear. “We can leave whenever you want,” you said, giving him an earnest look. His features softened even further and his tensed shoulders slowly relaxed. He gave you a sheepish smile. “No, I want to stay. It was just...overwhelming at first,” he assured you, tightening his fingers over yours.

You opened your mouth to speak again when suddenly you heard a high pitched squeal followed by your name. You tensed and whipped around as a familiar face came bounding towards the booth. “Liz?” you blurted out, somewhere between a question and an exclamation. You sprang out of the booth in time for her to throw her arms around you, the momentum almost sending the both of you to the floor. You pulled away beaming at each other with I can’t believe its and is it really yous falling from your mouths. You watched her eyes glance from yours to Castiel’s and back, quirking up an eyebrow.

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Cas this is Liz, we went to school together. Liz this is Cas, my-” you cut yourself off, suddenly self conscious and acutely aware at the fact that neither of you had taken the liberty to label your relationship. Castiel glanced between you and your friend, settled his gaze on Liz, and extended his hand.

“Boyfriend,” he finished for you proudly. Your heart leapt in your chest and you beamed at him. Liz accepted his hand and shook it.

“Cas, huh. Is that short for something?” she inquired, taking back her hand.

“Castiel,” he clarified. Her brows furrowed, wheels turning in her mind, before they shot up.

“Castiel” she repeated gleefully, turning to you with a smile. “Like one of the angels we read about in theology!” she exclaimed. At this unexpected revelation, Castiel’s brow furrowed as he shot you a questioning glance. You felt your cheeks burn, refusing to meet his stare. You opened your mouth to try and backpedal from the subject but she kept going.

“You know,” she said, turning to a very confused Castiel. “Castiel was probably my favorite angel to learn about. Angel of Thursday, right?” she asked turning back to you. You gave her a stiff nod, still not daring to look over to your former angel. “I always thought the translation of his name was fitting, shield of God, you know, seeing as he was probably heaven’s greatest warrior.” She continued singing the angel’s praises, not noticing the soft blush creeping up his face, nor the well of tears threatening to spill over his lashes as he stared at the two of you with an awe-like wonder.

She abruptly cut herself off, chuckling, and put a hand on your shoulder. “I’ve blabbed on enough. It was really nice seeing you, Y/N. Text me and we can catch up more!” She gave you one last hug before disappearing back into the crowd. You stayed facing the direction she ran off in, feeling the former angel’s stare burning into you and unwilling to turn to meet it.

“Y/N,” you heard him say in a strained voice from behind you. Taking a deep breath, you turned to face him, careful to avert his gaze. “Look at me...please,” he implored softly. Mustering whatever courage you could scrounge up, your eyes slowly lifted to his. His brows were softly furrowed with a whole range of emotions swirling behind his wet eyes. You were surprised to see he wasn’t angry as you had anticipated. Instead, he looked at you in a mix of adoration and confusion. His upper lip twitched as he struggled to form a coherent sentence for you, his mind racing and crowded with too many thoughts.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he finally settled on. You bit your lip trying to find the right words.

“Well, to be fair, you were kind of terrifying when I first met you,” you admitted sheepishly. His eyebrows rose slightly and the corners of his lips tugged upward. He closed the distance between you, placing his hands softly on your hips, tugging you even closer.

“You thought I was terrifying, hm?” his voice now several octaves lower than usual. You gulped, becoming increasingly aware of the heat pooling between your thighs. Castiel smirked, enjoying his obvious effect on you. He hummed, watching you struggle to form a response to him, eyes darkening with lust. Castiel leaned down, breath ghosting your ear and hands tightening their grip on your hips. “I’d like to test that theory, if you wouldn’t mind,” his words like velvet, contributing to your intoxicating arousal.

He released his grip on your hips, took a step back from you and looked around the bar, feigning disinterest to mask his lust blown eyes. “Unless of course you would like to stay,” he said smugly.

“No!” you croaked out, cursing yourself for sounding so desperate. Castiel’s smirk grew at your sudden outburst. You cleared your throat, trying to regain some composure. “I mean, that’s okay, the beer here is crap anyway,” you said cooly. Castiel narrowed his eyes at you, seeing through your obvious attempt to hide your eagerness. Luckily for you, he was feeling merciful. He tilted his head at the door. “Shall we then?” he proposed, taking a step towards the door. You practically tripped over your own feet trying to follow him out.

The two of you got back into the car and you pulled out your phone to get directions to the nearest motel, cursing under your breath when you realized the closest one was still a 20 minute drive. Sighing, you turned the key in the ignition and started your drive to the motel. Castiel’s ears perked at the sound and placed a calming hand just above your knee, giving you a comforting squeeze. You caught his meaning, be patient.

About 10 minutes into the drive, his hand made its way up your thigh tantalizingly slow before making its way back down to your knee. You gripped the wheel tighter, trying not to focus on your growing arousal. On the next upwards stroke, Castiel shifted his hand to the inside of your thigh before bringing it back to your knee, causing you to jerk the wheel slightly. Castiel let out a light chuckle, continuing his ministrations. On this pass, the tips of his fingers barely brushed past the apex of your thighs. You let out a sharp sigh, shooting him a quick look of annoyance. “Cas,” you said in a mock warning, but he saw past it.

“Hmm?” he hummed, bring his hand back up to your clothed sex, lightly tracing everywhere but where you wanted him most. Castiel enjoyed watching you squirm, trying to focus on the road in front you you while also desperately wanting to chase your release. He could only imagine how soaked you must be at this point, the thought contributing to his own growing arousal. He could feel his pants tightening and looked down at the bulge steadily growing. Swallowing a growl, he returned his attention to teasing you, trying to ignore the blood rushing to his hardening member.

“Cas,” you gasped, slightly panting at this point. He looked up to see your knuckles gripping the wheel, brows tilted up and gaze still locked on the road. “Please,” you said in a strained whispered. He hummed again, lowering his hand back down to your thigh, the opposite of what you were asking. An involuntary whimper escaped your lips and you shot him a quick confused glance. He stared straight ahead with a smug smile on his face. “Patience,” is all he said.

The remaining three minutes to the hotel were torture. As soon as you pulled into the lot, you yanked the door open and struggled to keep yourself from running to the front desk. Castiel gave you an amused smile and followed you into the lobby.

“Single, please,” you said as you thrust your card toward the woman at the desk. She quirked up an eyebrow glanced between you and Castiel, smiled to herself, and checked you into a room. You took the key from her and quickly found your way to your room. Upon entering, Castiel closed and locked the door behind him before turning to you with an almost predatory look.

“Strip,” he commanded firmly. Your eyes widened at his sudden dominance and your fingers began blindly ridding you of your clothing. He watched you undress with lust blown eyes, savoring every inch of your body. “On the bed,” he instructed as the last article of clothing left your body. You vehemently nodded and scrambled to the bed, waiting for his next instruction. He shrugged out of his flannel and tshirt, slowly undoing the buckle of his jeans as you licked your lips in anticipation. Stepping out of his jeans he made his way over to the bed and crawled over you. You gasped as his cock brushed against your center as he made his way up to kiss your neck. Supporting himself on one elbow, his free hand roamed down you body to cup your aching heat. A moan slipped past your lips as he ran a finger through your soaked folds.

“My poor honeybee,” he cooed in your ear. “Absolutely dripping for me, hm?” he just barely grazed your clit, and you moaned again, bucking your hips fruitlessly. The coil in your belly was overwhelming, every nerve in your body already on fire from pure need and his teasing. He grazed your clit again, eliciting a choked sob from your trembling body. “You’ve waited this long, honeybee, what’s a little while longer,” he teased in a honeyed voice. The thought of waiting one more second set your heart racing.

“Cas- please..not tonight...need you now. Please,” you strained, palming him through his boxers. With a grunt, he obliged, peeling himself off of you to rid himself of the last article of clothing separating the two of you. He chucked them into the corner of the room and crawled back up to you, catching your lips in a deep kiss. Your tongue swept his bottom lip, begging for entrance. He happily granted it, deepening the kiss and gently rocking his length against your pussy.

You reached between you to line him up with your entrance and rocked your hips up, imploring him to sink down. Castiel slowly lowered himself into you, breaking the kiss to choke out, “is this alright?” before continuing.

“Nngh Cas yes,” you moaned. “Please move,” you begged rocking your hips again. Castiel slowly pulled himself out of you before snapping his hips back in. A surprised moan left your lips as pleasure shot through you. He continued this, grunting and panting against your neck. His body twitched with restraint and you pulled him down into a kiss before releasing him and whispering, “let go, angel.”

His eyes widened and lifted his eyebrows, silently asking are you sure? In response you smiled and looked up at him through your lashes before wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him even closer to you. His hips faltered for a moment before he lowered his head and began snapping his hips against you faster. A string of moans fell from your lips as he murmured praises in broken Enochian.

“Y/N,” he panted, “I’m-” he strained. You brushed the hair out of his eyes and raked your nails through his hair.

“It’s okay Cas, me too, just-” a surprised moan cut you off as he wedged a hand between your bodies to begin tracing rough circles on your clit. The added stimulation was enough to push you over the edge, waves of pleasure washing over your body. Feeling you clench around him was enough to send Castiel over with you, both panting as he sloppily thrusted inside of you to coax the two of you through your climax. Once he regained the ability to move consciously, he slipped out of you with a grunt and collapsed beside you.

The two of you laid there panting for a moment in post orgasmic bliss before he drew you close to him, your head resting against his chest and your body melting against his. “I love you, my honeybee,” he murmured into your hair. “I love you too, angel,” you sighed contentedly, before drifting into a peaceful slumber.

You woke up the rays of sunshine aimed directly toward your eyes through the blinds of the motel’s window. You grumbled, tucking your face closer against Castiel, using him as a shield against the rays. He chuckled at your grumpy state, weaving his hands through your hair to soothe you. You hummed contentedly at the welcomed contact, snuggling closer to him.

“As much as I would enjoy laying with you like this all day, my love,” he placed a kiss to your temple. “We need to inform the Winchesters of our situation,” he said gently, knowing it would only add to your morning grumpiness. As he predicted you groaned against him. He let out a light chuckle, gently detangling your limbs so he could get up. You groaned again at the loss of contact, moving to sit up straight and pushing stray strands of hair from your face. You watched as he gathered his clothes and made his way to the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

You sighed as you rolled over and picked up your phone, squinting at the harsh light. You scrolled through your contact list, finger hesitating over Dean’s name but instead scrolling past to get to Sam’s. You didn’t want to give Dean the satisfaction of hearing you ask to come back home. Jaw set, you clicked on Sam’s name and listened to the dial tones until you reached his voicemail. You furrowed your brows and checked the time, 8:30, you thought, Sam is definitely back from his morning jog by now..what gives?

You begrudgingly scrolled back up to Dean’s name and clicked on it with a huff. He picked up on the second ring and spoke before you could even greet him.

“Come home,” he said in a weak, hollow voice. You felt your stomach tighten at his tone.

“Dean-” you started but he cut you off.

“Please. Come home. Bring Cas too. I...just-please” he said strained. Your heart sank with worry.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, desperate to know what could’ve possibly happened to flip the tables and make him beg you to come home. He was silent for a moment.

“Something happened,” he choked out. “I just,” his voice cracking. “I just need you both to come home. Please.”

“We’re on our way.”

~~~~~~~~~

taglist: @antoniamarie1989-blog @transparentfestivaltiger @tinymalscoffee @dark-as-love

#castiel #castiel fanfiction #cas #castiel x reader #castiel x reader smut #castiel smut #human!cas #human!castiel x reader #supenatural #supernatural fic

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asciendo · 4 years ago

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Trost Has Fallen Part 1

Make it Right Series Chapter 10

Jean was the cocky bastard that walked around like he owned the place. Y/N couldn’t stand so when the time came that you were his sparring partner, you couldn’t wait to teach him a lesson.

Little did the both of you know, that sparring match would be the start of your unexpected relationship with Jean Kirschtein, that will change your life, and the rest of the Scout Regiment forever.

Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14/Chapter 15/Chapter 16/Chapter 17/Chapter 18/Chapter 19/Chapter 20/Chapter 21

Here is another chapter thank you @empty-glass-full-of-emotion for the support!

It was graduation. You couldn't believe that you survived training and were ready to join the Scouts. You haven't spoken to Jean in weeks and you missed him, but his distance gave you the push you needed to be in the top 10 of the cadets.

After graduation you were talking with Eren about the Scout Regiment and were pleased to know that Mikasa and Armin were joining the Scouts as well. You glanced to your left and saw Jean with Mina and Connie.

"Wow! Jean, you're joining the Military Police?! That's so cool!" Mina beamed and Jean had that smug look on his face. "Well, I'm in the top 10 so, I earned it."

You rolled your eyes and averted your gaze. "Congratulations on being a coward." Eren snapped and you sighed knowing him and Jean would go at it again. Jean suddenly was glaring at Eren and his eyes averted to you for a moment. You locked eyes and you swear Jean's eyes softened for a moment, but then turned back to a hard gaze towards Eren.

"Jaeger I swear—" Jean began but was cut off my Shadis' voice instructing to head to the walls to maintain the cannons. "Maniacs like you are gonna die out there, all of you." Jean said through gritted teeth and your heart sunk. It felt like you and Jean were strangers and he knew it would upset you. You felt tears forming in your eyes so you quickly left and made your way to the cannons.

You were with Eren and Thomas, Connie and Sasha followed. Connie and Thomas expressed their desire to join the Scouts as well which shocked you and Eren. Apparently, Eren's speech was effective and inspired the two to join the Scouts as well.

Feeling motivated, especially with Sasha's newly stolen meat, you didn't doubt that joining the Scouts was the right decision, especially seeing how the cadets had the same revelation to do so as you did.

Suddenly, lightning hits Wall Maria, and you all fall to your feet. The Colossal Titan appears and you freeze. The last time the Titans attacked were five years ago, before your enlisted and this was the first time you ever came face to face with a titan. You couldn't move, you tried to move but your limbs felt frozen. The Colossal Titan begins to break the gate leading out to Wall Maria and its intense heat throws all of you off the wall. You were to stunned to react but suddenly, you felt an arm grab your wrist.

"DON'T' GIVE UP! FIGHT!" Eren looks at you with intense eyes and you quickly snap out of your trance.

You're able to activate your ODM gear and Eren lets go of you when you're stable. Eren starts commanding the rest of the cadets to join him in battle, looking around, you see the remaining cadets who survived with scared looks on their faces. You closed your eyes and followed Eren, if you were joining the Scouts, this is something you had to do.

You and Eren are running on top of the Wall the Colossal Titan continues destroying it. "He's going for the cannons!" You yell at Eren and he begins to charge. Eren dodges the tian's attack and is about to deliver the fatal blow, you stop and watch in anticipation, but the Colossal Titan suddenly releases steam and Eren is shot backward.

"EREN!" You yell and run towards him. Eren tries one more time but, the Colossal Titan disappeared leaving Eren on the edge of the Wall.

"W-where did he go?" You whimpered as you stood behind Eren. "Hiding like the cowards they are!" You looked at Eren and there was so much hatred in his eyes that you were scared to move any closer to him.

Back in the Trost headquarters, the recruits gathered for their next plan of action. You stood behind Eren as Mikasa and Armin joined. Across from you, there stood Jean, Marco and the others. You tried to read Jean's expression but he looked as if he was torn on what to feel.

Woermann then gives the recruits instructions to protect the remaining civilians and to help with evacuation. Jean grimaces and punches the wall next to him. Your eyes grow wide at his reaction and so does the rest of the group.

"I was supposed to be in the interior tomorrow." Jean grumbles as blood begins to drip from his fist. "COWARD!" Eren shouts and Jean turns around. "WE'RE ALL GOING TO DIE NOW, YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT?!" Jean suddenly grabs Eren by the collar and shakes him.

"NO! Humanity is STRONGER than this, WE'RE GOING TO SURVIVE!" Eren snaps back and they're suddenly broken apart by Mikasa.

"Go die then! I can't hear this anymore!" Jean is breathing heavily as he glares at Eren.

Jean then suddenly stares at you with pleading eyes. You look down at his hands, and he's discretely motioning you to come with him. Your eyes suddenly have tears in them as you realize this is the first time Jean has showed any concern for you. Knowing where you belong, especially after seeing the magnitude of destruction the Colossal Titan has caused, you slowly shake your head and stand your ground. Jean's face drops at your refusal to go with him and he shakes his head in disapproval and leaves.

Eren then gives a speech how this is their chance to prove themselves which entices the cadets who are joining the Scouts to fight. You join them as they run through the city as you've received the news of Titans already within the walls.

Suddenly, you feel something dark hovering above, an abnormal titan starts attacking you and the other cadets. You dodge its attack and slice its arm and it stumbles. The titan appears to fall and you sigh in relief, but suddenly you hear screaming. You look up and see Thomas being eaten by the titan.

The rest of you freeze in shock as Thomas is devoured. "AAAH!" You yell in anger as the rest of the cadets stare. You run towards the titan with tears streaming down you face. The titan tries to grab you but you dodge, swinging upward, you're able to maneuver yourself behind the titan and you slice the back of its neck, killing it.

Breathing heavily and covered in blood, looking up, you see your comrades on the roof staring at you in awe, with Eren looking at you with pride.

"GO Y/N!" Mina shouts with a huge smile on her face but suddenly, you see giant hands around her waist. A titan is lifting squeezing her as she screams. "MINA!" You rush towards her as well as the cadets but Mina is swallowed. Eren rushes and slices the titan's neck and kills it. you all stand motionless on the roof, as the reality hits you that you lost two of your cadets in the span of two minutes.

Suddenly, another titan appears and Eren carelessly rushes towards it. "EREN STOP!" Armin yells but Eren doesn't listen. As he begins to slash, another titan intercepts him and bites of his leg. You begin to run to Eren but then hear Armin yell behind you.

You stop, tears are streaming down your face as you are made to decide whether to save Armin or Eren.

Eren suddenly zooms above you pulling Armin out of the Titan's mout, but getting swallowed in the process, leaving all of you frozen in place.

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years ago

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To Call Forth Love- Chapter 4

So I planned for this chapter and the next to originally be one but as I started writing it, the words kept flowing and oops....now its really long. So I decided to split it. This means that I’m pretty much done with the next chapter so I’ll be able to get it out in a few days! Yay!

Also, Ivar is pretty manipulative in this chapter. Someone made a comment in the last chapter that I want to acknowledge. Going forward this is kind of a theme but I just want to put that warning statement- if this is triggering for you, please read with caution. There is nothing explicit or graphic but its still manipulation.

Words:4000

Warnings: swearing, manipulation

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius

Series Masterlist

Sitting in the office at work, Kari sipped on her smoothie as she plugged in numbers for an inventory order. She had just finished teaching one of her morning classes and was now doing some paperwork for Lydia while on her "lunch break".

She jumped when her phone suddenly buzzed- a text alert. Surprised and curious as to who would be texting her at this time, she unlocked her phone to see the text from an unknown number.

Unknown: hey u busy 2nite?

Kari: who is this?

Unknown: u fav person

Kari: OMG! Ed Sheeran?!

She giggled quietly to herself, returning back to the laptop screen. Normally she ignored any calls or texts from unknown numbers, but it had been a good morning and she was feeling playful. When there was no return text, she shrugged the conversation off and returned to the order. Apparently, the unknown number did not get the reaction they were hoping for or realized they text the wrong person. Either way, she did not care.

A couple minutes later, her phone started to vibrate repeatedly. Looking down, she saw she was getting a call from the unknown number. She hesitated to answer, but by the third ring her curiosity got the better of her and she answered it.

"Hello?"

"FUCKING ED SHEERAN? REALLY?"

She sat there stunned. "Ivar?"

"Of course, it's me. Who the fuck were you expecting?" He asked, angrily.

"How did you get my number?"

He ignored her question, his voice suddenly sounding muffled. "Yeah, yeah, I'll be a second…. damn it. I know!"

"Who is that?"

"My brother.” He scoffed, muttering something unintelligible under his breath, before speaking to her again. “I have to head back into a meeting now."

"Oh, ok?"

"You didn't answer my question."

Her mind was still reeling from the fact that Ivar Lothbrok had her number and was calling her out of the blue. "What question?"

He huffed, exasperation evident in his tone. "Are you busy tonight?"

"Why?"

"I want to take you out."

"Ivar," she sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead, "I told you, I can't."

"Yeah and I don't believe you, so…."

"No. I'm sorry but the answer is still no."

"Fine. I have to go." He snapped then abruptly ended the call.

Slowly, she pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it. What just happened? Before she forgot, she added his number to her contacts since she had the distinct feeling this would not be the last time he contacted her. Once done, she set her phone down and dropped her head into her hands.

It had been two days since he drove her home and she said they could be friends. In those two days, this was the first contact they had. She had hoped he grew bored with her since she was not playing his game, that she refused to go out with him. Maybe he finally decided she was not worth his time and moved on? Which was for the best. She could never fit into his world, there was no space for her there. Nor did she want to. She was happy, content with her life.

It was better for her to not allow Ivar into her life. That's what she repeated to herself as she tried to focus on the inventory order.

*****

"Just put the bags right there, thank you." Kari said, placing the grocery bags, one in each hand, onto the tiled floor. The kitchen in her townhouse was small, two people could barely move around in it without bumping into one another. Thankfully, she did not spend much time in the kitchen. Cooking had never been her forte.

"Do you need anything else? I don't mind staying to help." The dirty-blond haired man asked, setting the two bags he carried down onto the floor. He started to shuffle forward but seemed to think better of it and leaned against the half-wall separating the kitchen from the short hallway.

"Erik, it's fine. If anything, I owe you. You never let me pay for gas money."

He shrugged, and tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. "It's not a big deal. I needed to shop too."

"Still, it's not fair to you." She turned around from placing the milk in the fridge to look at him.

"If I think of something you can do to repay me, I'll let you know. Deal?"

"Perfect."

"Do you still want a ride to work tomorrow?"

She shut the door and jokingly waved a hand at him. "See! You're too nice."

"I'd be ‘too nice’ if I also showed up with coffee for you."

She laughed, moving some frozen fruit into the freezer. "You're too perfect to not have a girlfriend."

He rubbed the back of his neck, a flush growing on his cheeks and drawing out a boyish smile. "I don't know if I'd say that. I'll let you get to it. I'll meet you outside at nine?"

"Thank you, Erik."

"Of course." He popped his head around the wall to look into the living room. "See you, Alana!"

"Bye, Erik!" The response came from the living room.

Kari continued to put her groceries away as she heard the front door click shut behind him. Somehow, she needed to figure out a way to pay him back.

Erik lived in the townhouse next door alone. When he learned that Kari did not own a car, he offered to give her rides whenever it worked out for both of their schedules. At first, she had been hesitant, still not having lived in the townhouse for long but eventually gave in because he always acted like such a gentleman. Every time he saw her, he made sure to greet her and ask about her day. He always held the door open for her and anybody else close by. A negative word never passed his lips, rather choosing to focus on the positive in life. A routine soon started to form and every two weeks they would meet up outside of their townhouses and go grocery shopping together. When she did not have to work early, he would occasionally give her rides to work since the bank he worked at was only a couple blocks away. That was the extent of their interactions though. She wondered about inviting him over for dinner as to thank him but she always chickened out in asking him. Perhaps that was what she needed to do after all.

Once all her groceries were put away, she headed into the living room, seeing her roommate and friend sitting on the couch with the TV on to the Great British Bake-off but looking down at her phone.

The brunette asked, dropping onto the second couch. "How was work?"

"Good. You?" Alana looked up, her make-up flawless like usual on her delicate features.

"Nothing too exciting."

"You know, if you'd waited two hours I could have taken you to the store."

Kari nodded, fiddling with her diamond stud earring. "I know, but you're so busy with work and school. I know you like relaxing when you come home and Erik said he was free today."

"Did he now?" Alana asked with a smug look.

Kari tossed a throw pillow at her. "Don't start this again."

The blonde caught the pillow, still grinning like the Cheshire cat. "You know he likes you. He's just too shy to ask you out."

"He's a friend, it's been like seven months, I think if he was going to ask me out, he would have done it by now."

"He. Is. Shy." Alana enunciated, as if talking to a child. She rolled her blue eyes, leaning back against the couch. "Shit, he only started to actually talk to me this summer."

"Cause you are intimidating."

Alana threw the pillow back at Kari. "Bitch, it's cause I radiate sexiness and he can't handle it."

"That is most definitely it."

"Well the guy I hooked up with last weekend said I radiated sexiness."

Kari wrinkled her nose, looking over at her roommate. "I don't want to hear that. It's bad enough when you bring them here."

"You know, it wouldn't be the worst thing for you to actually go out with Erik. He's…. sweet." She quietly stated, eyes back on the TV.

"Yeah."

"I'm fairly sure he'd treat you better than that fucker of ex."

Kari picked invisible lint off her black leggings, apprehensive about where the topic was going. Her love life, and lack of it, was something Alana liked to remind her of frequently as of late. "Honestly, I'm even sure anymore he should count as an ex."

"Well you were supposed to be exclusive, right? And then you find out he's been fucking other girls the whole time. That counts as a shitty ex."

She winced at the reminder of her one attempt at dating. "I don't…. I don't think I'm ready."

The blonde pointed a finger at her roommate without turning her eyes away from the TV. "Well don't wait around forever, you'll miss out."

"Says the woman who hooks up with a different guy almost every other weekend."

"And I'm not missing out!"

Kari laughed. Feeling her phone vibrate, she pulled it out of her pocket and checked it to see a new text from Ivar.

Ivar: hell no, if we r gng 2 see the Northern Lights thn we're gng 2 Iceland or Norway.

She smiled at the text, quickly typing in a reply.

Kari: fine, we'll add that to the list. Can I please put South Africa back on the list?

She fiddled with her diamond stud earrings, looking back at their conversation throughout the day. Just looking at all the texts, she bit her lip to try and contain the smile.

Ivar had texted her in the late morning, asking her out again. To which she just texted back a one-word answer- "no". Apparently undeterred, he ignored her 'no', saying how he wanted to take her to this popular restaurant. Somehow the conversation spiraled into creating overly outrageous "dates" he would take her on, each one more fantastic than the last, with her encouraging and creating her own ideas. Their texting had lasted all day, and she found herself actually looking forward to his responses. Something she never would have expected, especially after how rudely he hung up on her the prior day.

So far her favorite "date" involved him renting out the entire Roman Colosseum in Rome and having a candlelight dinner in the middle of the arena. The most amusing one was when she suggested they go skydiving. He shut down that idea saying they would have to be strapped to instructors and the only man she should ever be strapped to was him.

Her phone vibrated in her hand, alerting her to his response.

Ivar: u r not swimming w/ sharks

She giggled, trying to imagine his facial expression. She actually had no desire to do half of the stuff she suggested but it was funny to get a rise out of him.

Kari: African safari?

"What are you giggling at?" Alana questioned, giving her the side-eye.

The smile dropped from her face. "Nothing."

"That doesn't sound like nothing."

"Just a funny meme." She deflected, getting to her feet. There was no way she could tell Alana she had been texting Ivar all day. "I'm going to shower."

As she headed upstairs to her room, her phone vibrated again.

Ivar: do u jus luv danger?

Kari: I'm talking to you, aren't I?

She headed to her bathroom, turning the shower on and checking the temperature. In a spur of the moment decision, she tossed in a eucalyptus shower bomb.

Just before she jumped in, she looked at her phone one last time to find his response.

Ivar: touche, kitten, touche 😘

*****

The soothing soundtrack of nature played over the speakers in the yoga studio room. A few women were already in the studio with their yoga mats out, either stretching or quietly conversing as they waited. Depending on the day, the ten am morning class could be busy but typically it averaged about fifteen to twenty women.

Kari bent over, touching her palms to the floor. Even though she would not be continuously doing the routine along with those in her class, she still liked to be limber and have her muscles warmed up. This was a beginner class, where she spent a good portion of the time either correcting people's forms or showing how to do a certain pose. A few of her coworkers complained about teaching beginner classes since when the participants walked through the door, you never really knew what level they were at.

Checking the clock hanging over the door, she saw she had five minutes before her class started. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, enjoying the pull of her muscles. The door to the studio room opened but Kari continued to stretch, shifting to a downward facing dog pose, holding it. She could hear some people moving around but she focused on her breathing.

"Mmm, I could get used to seeing this."

The familiar voice behind her, caused Kari to try and whip around in startled surprise, only to end up crashing onto her ass.

Above her stood Ivar with a devilish smile. "Hello, kitten." He softly said with smolder that instantly made her flush and a tendril of warmth curl in her belly. Standing there in his jeans and red shirt with his hair pulled back in a man bun, it was unfair how striking he looked. Even the braces over his legs did nothing to deter from his attractiveness.

She rose quickly to her feet, wiping her hands over her leggings and peeking at the others in the room. Most were curiously watching their interaction but remained where they were.

"What are you doing here?" She hissed, turning her gaze back up to meet his. "How did you find me?"

He rolled his eyes. "You were wearing a Whole Wellness Yoga Studio shirt when I drove you home last week. Plus, hearing from Gyda that you work here…. You're not that hard to find."

That made sense, even if she disliked the logic. "Ok, fine. Why are you here though?"

"I want to take you out tonight."

"Oh gods." She could not believe what she was hearing. The prior day they had spent most of the day texting and sure it was fun, but her answer had not changed. When he had not text her this morning, she assumed that was the last she had heard from him. Apparently, he decided to ask her out in person instead of over the phone like the past two times. "Ivar… No."

"Why? You keep saying you can't but never why."

"It's just…. look, I don't want to date."

He took a step closer, face inches above hers. His voice dropped low, an underlying current of anger in his tone. Those piercing blue eyes challenged her. "You say that but I don't think that's the real reason. So, until you tell me the truth, your 'no' means fucking nothing. Friends tell each other things, right?"

"You know, I don't think we should be friends anymore."

He chuckled, still standing too close for a normal conversation. "Too late. I like you."

"I'm still not going out with you." She placed her hands on her hips, trying to appear confident, hoping desperately he did not hear the wavering in her voice. 'This was for the best, it was best for both of them' she repeated in her mind.

"Fine. I'll wait for you to change your mind." He winked and stepped back. To her horror, she watched as he walked over to the side of the room where she kept her water bottle and light jacket. He grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over before dropping down with his legs in a manspread, that stupid smirk still on his face.

She stomped over to him, whisper-shouting at him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm waiting."

"What?"

"I'm not leaving until you agree to go on a date with me."

"You can't...no…. Ivar." She whined.

"I walked all the way here to see you, even though my legs are quite painful today…. you wouldn't kick a cripple out when they just need to rest, would you?" He asked, eyes widened in mock innocence. One of his hands rubbed at his knee in exaggerated fashion as if to prove the discomfort he was in.

She groaned. "I hate you."

"No, you don't." He gloated, then nodded towards the clock. "It's ten o'clock, it's time to start your class, I believe."

Without another word, she moved to the front of the room. She refused to play this game. Her answer was 'no' and no matter what he said or did, her answer would not change. The whole time she could feel his rakish gaze on her, reminding her how tight her leggings and purple tank top were. She tried to focus on her class, smiling at the women she recognized and the ones that she assumed was new. "Let's begin. Everyone start in mountain pose. Take deep breaths, let's center ourselves."

"Kari!"

She looked over at the older woman, Ingrid, who called out. The woman was easily one of Kari's favorites, doting upon those who worked at the yoga studio, and becoming the unofficial grandmother of them. Ingrid had been coming to the yoga studio for years but was forced to only take beginner level classes after a bad fall the prior year. She loudly complained about her doctor being an idiot and how she felt fine, but Lydia refused to let her attend any other class than beginner classes until otherwise said by her doctor.

"Yes?"

Ingrid's hazel eyes twinkled with mischief from the front row where she stood. "You planning on introducing that handsome young man you've got over there?"

"No, we are going to ignore his presence. He's going to be leaving soon." Kari flatly stated with a polite smile.

"Hi! I'm Ivar!" He announced with a charming smile, his bright blue eyes alluring under the dim lights. Giving a little wave with his fingers, he continued, "I hope my presence doesn't bother all you lovely women, I just came to see my girlfriend and ask her on a date tonight."

A chorus of "awwwws" filled the room.

Kari wanted nothing more than to bang her head against a wall. Or preferably, Ivar's head. She could not believe the audacity of him.

"Where are you taking her?" One of the newer women asked in a flirty tone, pulling her shoulders back to emphasize her ample chest.

Ivar barely glanced at her, keeping his focus on Kari. "It's a surprise. I wanted to do something special."

"Young man, if I were a few years younger, I would fight Kari here so you could take me on a date." Ingrid said with a laugh.

"I would be honored to take a lovely woman like you on a date." He sent a playful wink to Ingrid.

"Alright, let's get back to yoga." Kari tried to redirect the attention. Annoyed and upset did not even begin to describe how she felt.

"Well it was lovely to meet you, young man. Kari should have told us her boyfriend was so handsome. We might have convinced her to bring you in sooner for some eye candy." Ingrid teased.

"He's not my boyfriend." Kari retorted, shooting a glare at the smug raven-haired man.

"And that is why I'm trying to take her on a date." He placed a hand dramatically over his heart, eyes staring at her beseechingly. "Just for her to give me a chance."

"Get her some tulips. Those are her favorite flowers." Karina called out from the back of the room.

"Can't go wrong with chocolate!"

"Oh! Read her a sonnet and dance under the stars together!"

"This is so romantic…. like something out of a movie." Someone loudly whispered, making a few others laugh.

Kari dropped her chin to her chest. Tears welled in her eyes. She knew those in the class meant well, that they were really just trying to help. But they were helping the wrong person. Why would Ivar not leave her alone? She told him 'no' multiple times, that should have been enough. Her tolerance for his behavior was waning rapidly and honesty she was not sure if she would fight back…. or surrender.

The chair scratched faintly on the floor followed by his footsteps landing audibly as he crossed the room to reach her. She refused to lift her head, her eyes squeezed shut. Not just to pretend she could not feel him standing so close to her, but to try and hide the single tear that rolled down her cheek.

"Kari." He whispered, the sound a caress of her name.

Still she did not move.

Gently, he tipped her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His thumb wiped away the evidence of her tear. It was those captivating eyes, the ones that could both scorch everything in view but also send flames of desire dancing across her skin, that met hers. To her surprise, there was a softness in his gaze, a vulnerability, that was reminiscent of the few times they were alone. As if with just her, for a brief moment, he let his guard down and she could glimpse the real Ivar.

"Go out with me." He murmured faintly, stroking her cheek with his thumb. Standing in front of her, his broad back to the class gave them a semblance of privacy. "Please."

"Why can't you let this go?" She begged quietly, staring up at him.

"I told you, I'm persistent." He smiled, almost shyly.

In his words, it felt like there was such a depth to them she was unaware of. That he was confessing something to her in which she did not have the key to fully understand.

She sighed softly, closing her eyes for a moment before looking at him again. "Fine. I'll go…. But it's only as friends, ok? This isn't…. Romantic. Just…. Just friends."

"Sure, just friends." He leaned forward and pressed a quick, chaste kiss to her cheek. "I'll pick you up at seven."

She nodded, feeling torn apart inside.

After a lingering look that breathed a flame into her belly, he spun on his heel to face the women. "She said yes!"

A few cheers and clapping reverberated in the small yoga studio room.

"I graciously thank you all for your sound advice and encouragement with helping me to woo the beautiful Kari. Wish me luck as I plan to thoroughly spoil her tonight." Ivar dramatically bowed, shooting a quick wink at Kari as she watched him.

She desperately tried to fight the small smile off her lips. No one could say that Ivar was not charming or charismatic when it suited him.

As he finally made his way to the door, he turned around just before pushing it open. "Wear something nice." He said, pointing a finger at Kari and then walked out like a dream where one cannot decide if it was a nightmare or not.

The brunette ran a hand down her face before shoving aside her emotions and plastering a customer smile on. "I'm so sorry about all of this. Let's get back to it. I promise it won't happen again, ladies."

"Kari, dear, you have fun with that boy tonight." Ingrid spoke up, eyes darting to the now closed door and back to the yoga instructor. "And if you don't want him, let me know. I'd still jump on him in a heartbeat. That boy has the prettiest eyes, I swear."

A few sounds of agreement echoed in the room.

Kari could not stop her smile from turning genuine at Ingrid. No matter the situation, the feisty, older woman always knew how to make her laugh. "I promise I'll let you know. Now, back to mountain pose please."

Silently, she hoped tonight was not a mistake.

#vikings #vikings fandom #vikings fanfic #vikings fanfiction #vikings imagine #modern ivar #ivar x ofc #ivars heathen army #ivar romance #ivar the boneless #modern!ivar #modern!ivar x oc #to call forth love #mzwrites

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joheunsaram · 4 years ago

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To Make A Power Couple - 06 (knj)

Chapter 6: Garlic Pasta and I Miss You-s

THIS IS A REPOST SINCE I LOST ACCESS TO MY OLD ACCOUNT. PLEASE FOLLOW THIS BLOG FOR UPDATES ON THIS SERIES.

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Summary- Namjoon visits his parents and Yoongi and Y/N bond over their past.

word count- 4.5k

pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader

rating- R

genre- series, fluff, angst, action, slightly smutty, strangers2lovers

warnings- drinking, talk of mental health and panic attacks, violence, blood, stalker

a.n- sorry for this chapter being late! i had major burn out this last few weeks but I finally got it out. Tell me what you think!

taglist - @beach-bitch-bitch-beach, @sscheherazadee, @rjsmochii , @jinjccns , @joyful-jimin @sideblogger @agustdpeach @diamonddia-mond

—

“I hate you Kim Namjoon! Get out!”

Namjoon looks at you with an amused smile as he drops his bags at the door of your bedroom. You’re sitting in your bed, your comforter fully around you, even on top of your head, as you loudly blow your nose, some show blaring on the television. Even though he feels bad about passing on his cold to you, he can’t help but find your red nose and whining adorable. The past few months since Namjoon returned from tour had been few of the best you’d had in Korea. Although you both still had remarkably busy schedules, you had found a routine of spending time together at least once a week, usually ending your Saturdays together to spend as much of the Sunday together as possible. It didn’t matter how you spent your time, whether it was spent going out on dates or sitting silently reading or cuddling, all that mattered was that you were together.

“Aw baby, I’m sorry!” He sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your burittoed body. He kissed all over your face obnoxiously, much to your chagrin as you groaned and tried to get him off you, worried to get your snot on him. “Okay. Tell you what. I’ll cancel going to my parents and stay here to take care of you!” He punctuated that with another kiss on your lips. Hey, he’d already suffered through this cold, might as well take advantage of being able to be near you now.

“No! Shut up! You’re not cancelling.” Since things were slower at work, the company had decided to give Namjoon and the boys the week off. He had spent the first day with you, going to the most recent Ji Hye Yeom exhibit yesterday, and was going to go visit his family for the next four days. When Namjoon told you he was planning to spend the majority of his vacation with his parents, he was bracing himself for a negative reaction, a learned response from his previous relationship. His ex would always hate that he would visit his family for extended periods when he got time off and wouldn’t prioritize his relationship with her. He was surprised and relieved to hear you not only excited that he was visiting family but encouraging him to spend more time, upping his initial ask of two days to four. He liked that you always encouraged him to call his mom when he was on tour, as did his mom, so much so that she had started to say ‘my beautiful daughter’ whenever she referred to you in front of him.

Namjoon stood up as he watched you rant about the importance of visiting family, one arm out from your duvet heaven as you waved it about to emphasize your points. He almost giggled at how endearing you looked sniffling through your tirade, hair a mess and voice a little hoarse. Taking off his jeans to get comfortable, he chuckled at your wide eyes and dramatic gasp.

“No! We’re not having sex right now you maniac!” You whine as you lie down with the covers over your head. Namjoon gets into bed, pulling the comforter from over you to sneak inside, his arms snaking around your grumbling form to pull him to his chest. Although you complained, you snuggled into him, feeling the safe comfort that only Namjoon provided you.

“I just wanna nap with you before I leave.” He kissed the top of your head as he tangled your legs with his. You poked your head up from where it was hiding in his chest to look up at his smiling face as he cupped your cheek to place a chaste kiss on your lips. Caressing the skin once he leans away, he looks at you adoringly. “Sorry for getting you sick, baby.”

———————————-

“Your boyfriend is a tyrant. Please never get sick again.” Yoongi took off his beanie and mask and shook his head to fluff his hair as you went through your phone to finish placing the order for takeout. After talking to Namjoon about how you had spent all of yesterday recovering, and even facetiming to ensure him that you were fit enough to be working again, he still didn’t believe you, forcing the only member of his band that was in Seoul during his vacation to make sure you were truly alright. You would be annoyed if your heart didn’t skip a beat at his overt concern. You were glad to spend time with Yoongi - he was pretty similar to you and you both had been slacking on hanging out lately. A few months ago you had decided to host a whiskey exchange where you would share bottles of your favourite liquor together, only for it to fall apart after two hangouts due to your busy schedules and Yoongi’s new relationship. It was nice to be in his company again, his mellow energy a great contrast to your usually loud friends.

“What did he say?” You question, laughing. Yoongi had called Namjoon many funny nicknames before but hearing him call him a tyrant made you laugh, picturing your boyfriend getting stern and demanding someone pay you a visit.

“You wanna see?” Yoongi chuckled as he pulled his phone out, navigating to the group chat and handing it to you. You couldn’t help but smile as you read Namjoon pleading to the group to check in on you, asking if anyone was around. Yoongi said he was around but refused only to relent once the other boys pressured him and Namjoon pulled in a favour Yoongi owed him from 2015.

“Ooof. Honestly, it’s not that bad. Good to know Jungkook would literally kill for me though, and that you hate to hang out with me.” You threw an ice cube at him from where you were putting them in your glasses.

“He wouldn’t. He’s just a suck up.” He dodged your attack, sticking his tongue out in triumph. “And you know I had to make Namjoon suffer a bit.”

Rolling your eyes at him as he smirked, you watched him pull out his bottle from his backpack. Your Craigellachie 16 no match for his Glenfiddich 30, you chastised him for buying such an expensive bottle for just the exchange. However, you were not going to say no to a glass of that and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence as you enjoyed your drinks. You were the first to break the silence.

“How’s your bae?”

“Oh haven’t you heard? Bae is no more! Broke my heart and left me to suffer.” Yoongi scowled as he dramatically grabbed his chest, before downing his drink. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was joking but his usual deadpan was missing.

“Shit… I’m sorry Yoongs.” You looked at him softly, making him scoff.

“It’s fine. Going to get a sick album out of this.” Yoongi waved you off, as he reached in his backpack again to bring out three bottles of soju. “Let’s get drunk!”

“That’s… one way of looking at things. You want to talk about it?” You knew he didn’t want to talk about it, it was probably still fresh and you didn’t want to impose but you wanted to give him the opportunity to share if he wanted to.

“Nah it’s fine. It was the usual anyways. ‘You’re always busy.’ ‘Why won’t you share your feelings with me?’ ‘Do you love me more or your career?’ I say good riddance.” He scoffed once again as he poured himself some more whiskey, sipping it blissfully.

“Well good to know you’re not hiding your pain.” You narrowed your eyes at him, but decided to get drunk with him anyways, taking up his offer to refill your glass. You had an extremely light day at work tomorrow with it being Friday and all, plus you knew that once Yoongi got drunk he would tell you how he was feeling. He was a very talkative drunk.

“Oh you know it. I’m nothing if not in touch with my feelings!”

Soon you and Yoongi were wasted, sitting on opposite ends of your couch as the television played the ‘important videos’ playlist on Youtube, laughing maniacally at each random short video that popped up. The food you had ordered was sitting on the coffee table, half eaten and getting cold. Having not heard Yoongi’s giggle in a while you looked away from the screen to see him staring into space, a slight frown on his lips.

“Dude. You good?” You poked him with your foot to break him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah. Sorry just realized I’m single again. Fuck.” He looked at you with wide eyes, as if he had just had an epiphany. You frowned at him, sad that he was feeling this way. In the past six months, you had come to learn that although Yoongi often talked about how much he loved being alone, in reality he put a lot of pressure on himself to find someone to be with.

“You know you’re worth more than a relationship, right?” You placed your hand on his, smiling reassuringly.

“Don’t go all Dr. Phil on me. I’m not that sad. It was like two months but it felt nice to call someone mine, you know?” He rolled his eyes at your concern, but held your hand tighter as he finished his sentence, averting his gaze with a melancholic look. He looked at you again sighing. “How did you get over your last breakup?”

“Um… not healthily. I almost sold my company.”

And so for the next hour, you told Yoongi of how messed up your previous relationship had made you. You don’t think you had talked about it in depth about your breakup with Beomseok for years now, but somehow drunk off extremely expensive whiskey and extremely cheap soju it felt natural to share the details about your most toxic relationship with Yoongi. Beomseok and you met when you were initially still in Canada, visiting Seoul in hopes of expanding. You were busy and he tried to help you as you adjusted to a new country, but as your relationship grew so did his tendency to ensure you relied on him. As hard as it was to admit to Yoongi, Beomseok had made you dependent on him, so much so that when he left you after two years of you accommodating him, you broke down. You started having terrible anxiety, using alcohol and cigarettes to take the edge off. Panic attacks became the norm so much so that you had contemplated leaving your position. You couldn’t see your friends, worked from home, and just buried yourself away. It took half a year of self destructive behaviour and for you to wake up in a bed with someone you didn’t remember to knock some sense into you and get yourself into therapy. Yoongi then talked about his own relationship issues, the two of you bonding over your struggles with mental health and shitty coping mechanisms. It was weird to think that Yoongi hadn’t been one of your close friends before this night.

It was around two in the morning by the time Yoongi left and you felt the emotions of the night catch up to you. You hadn’t thought about Beomseok in years, and thinking about him made you feel extremely sad for past you. You didn’t deserve how he treated you and you wished you could go back in time and shake some sense into yourself, and save the heartbreak. Lying in bed, drunk and emotional, you mourned for your old self and her faith in the world. However, looking at your phone you saw the photo of you and Namjoon - him standing behind you with his arm on your shoulder as he pretends to take a bite off your cheek as you grimace - and you were reminded that you were in a much better place now with a much better man. To say you looked forward to Namjoon returning tomorrow would be an understatement.

———————————-

Namjoon: I’m back!!! Namjoon: I miss you!!! Namjoon: Come over!!! Namjoon: I’m cooking for you!!! Y/N: Um… should I call poison control now or later? Namjoon: I’m back after almost a week and this is the welcome I get? Y/N: Babeeeee you know I love you! Namjoon: Prove it. Eat the pasta I’m making Y/N: Did anyone at least help you cook it? Namjoon: IT’S GOING TO BE GOOD. COME OVER. Y/N: Ok ok. No need to yell… Namjoon: Good. See you in an hour? Namjoon: I’m at the dorms btw Y/N: See you soon jooooooonie Y/N: I miss you too btw Namjoon: I love you too btw

You punched the code to the dorm and were greeted by a very excited Moni as you entered. The white dog jumping up at your legs, his tail wagging wildly behind him. You bent down in the entryway to give him a few scratches behind his ears, cooing and calling him a good boy.

“All this love for Moni, what about Joonie? I’m a good boy too!” You heard Namjoon shout out as you made your way through the large living room towards the kitchen, Moni playfully following.

“Aww is my good boy jealous?” You set your eyes on your boyfriend huddled over a cutting board, concentrating hard on cutting what seemed to be garlic, his jaw set. Namjoon was dressed in a blue overalls under which he wore a black sweater, the hood atop his head, the hair of which was now back to his natural dark brown, his nose scrunched as he attempted to keep his glasses from slipping. You don’t know if it was not seeing him for a while or the fact that he looked so cuddly, but you felt butterflies, your stomach somersaulting. You hadn’t felt them since the beginning of your relationship, and you were a bit unnerved that he still had that effect on you six months later.

“Holy shit. You look like a hot minion!” You almost yelled as you walked towards him, startling him enough to look at you with wide eyes under his black rimmed glasses and yelp.

“Don’t scare me like that! I almost cut my hand off!” He tried to glare at you but was soon smiling widely as you ducked under his arm to stand directly in front of him between the counter, putting your arms around his neck as you pulled him into a kiss. It felt amazing to have his plush lips against yours again, his familiar scent enveloping your senses till it felt like you were drunk off of him.

“I missed you,” you whispered against his lips. Your hands found your elbows as you pulled him in closer and deepened the kiss, making him moan, his tongue massaging yours as his hands went to your hips, pulling you to him. Before you could lose all your senses you felt a sharp poke on your lower back, and you reluctantly pulled away to look behind you.

“Joonie! You’re still holding the knife!” You said in alarm as his eyes widened again and he dropped it on the counter immediately before looking at you sheepishly and apologizing. “Control yourself. I don’t want to spend the night in the hospital!”

“Then stop distracting me! Go sit there and watch me make you the best pasta of your life.” He smirked and his eyes followed as you moved around the island to sit at the stool, bending down to pet Moni as he settled at your feet. Namjoon knew he was a terrible cook, but he had spent the time at home perfecting this recipe, subjecting his mom to the first few horrible tries, till he figured it out. It was a simple five ingredient dish but it was the first he’d learn and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to impress you. You always cooked for him, from experimental recipes you had found online to traditional Korean food that was second best only to his mom’s, and though he was always happy to do the dishes, he wanted your reunion to be special. He cooked almost quietly, blushing slightly at your words and looks of encouragement, plating it like restaurants would before placing it on the dining table and sitting next to you with a bottle of wine, anticipating your reaction.

“What the fuck? You can cook!” you exclaim as you dig in for another bite. Namjoon lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as he grinned at his success, finally digging into his meal. “I love the garlic. But damn, is this your way of telling me you don’t wanna kiss tonight?”

“Baby, I find even your gross morning breath irresistible, a little garlic’s not gonna stop me.” he laughed and you scowled at him, nudging him with your shoulder, as he leaned over to peck your lips. You weren’t trying to placate Namjoon, this pasta was absolutely delicious, the right amount of seasoning and everything. It warmed your heart that despite his firestarter tendencies he went through the effort to make you a home cooked meal.

As you ate, you talked about your days apart. You recovered from your cold within a day and had been back at work, and even though he scolded you for going back too fast Namjoon loved the way your eyes lit up when you talked about how you had managed to renew a contract with a client today, switching the period from their usual 1 year to 5 years. You had been working on this for a whole month, taking it upon yourself to attend meetings with not only the directors of this company but even the interns. He squealed with you at your success, high-fiving you and finding your excitement extremely adorable. You also talked about how after two bottles of soju Yoongi had finally admitted you were now his closest female friend and he agreed that you both should now tease him about it relentlessly.

Namjoon told you about how excited everyone was to have him home for that extended period of time, and how healing it was to be around them after the cacophony of tour. Apparently his sister had recently started learning how to make loom bracelets and he showed off the purple one on his wrist, telling you about how he had a matching one for you in his bag. Namjoon looked refreshed and you were glad you convinced him to spend the extra time home. He had also managed to bring back another bonsai tree to add to his collection, taking the time to explain how in a few years he could potentially tap the mini maple for some syrup. The image of your clumsy boyfriend trying to tap a tiny tree made you laugh. As the conversation continued and you both finished your food, you saw his mood dip a little. You silently lean forward cupping his face, as he nuzzles into your touch.

“My beautiful, hardworking boy. What’s wrong?” You coo with a soft smile on your face as your thumbs stroked his cheekbones and he pouts exaggeratedly before his hands go around your waist pulling you into his lap.

“I missed you.” He whispers as he nuzzles his face in your chest, his arms tightening around you. Namjoon felt cocooned in your sweet floral vanilla scent, and even though he’d been home just this morning, this felt like home too - just being in your embrace. He felt his heart swell with adoration as you stroked his hair slowly, whispering affirmations into his ear, slowly forgetting his worries about not spending enough time with you.

Usually when you both met after being apart, it was all desperation to get naked, but for the first time this felt much more intimate. He could hear your heartbeat and it soothed him. He suddenly envisioned both of you old and weathered in each other’s arms and he couldn’t fight the grin that made it on his face. He showered you in kisses, moving from your chest to your neck to your jaw and finally to your lips, where he stayed, kissing you firmly as his arms wind tighter around your waist. You lost yourself in his touch, wanting nothing more to be consumed by him as you tugged lightly at his hair, swallowing his moans. Before things could escalate you get startled by a loud thud.

“Wow! Right where we eat!” Jimin clicked his tongue in disapproval, as you both sheepishly stared at him.

“Noona!” Jungkook exclaimed as he came over to Namjoon and you, dragging you into a hug as he kissed the top of both of your heads. The two men seemed overly excited, and as Namjoon explained to you how he thought he was alone in the dorms tonight since no one has been around in weeks, the two interrupted to say that they had come to start a movie marathon, hoping to stay up all night since they had the day off tomorrow to marathon the Batman franchise as they had a bet going on as which one was the best.

“Do you guys want to join us?” Jimin asked politely as he munched on leftover pasta on the table. You excitedly opened your mouth to speak but before you could get a word out, Namjoon looked at you sternly.

“Nope.” He refused the boys as he looked at you, leaning in close to whisper in your ear before he nipped at it. “Baby, ignore your obsession with Batman. I want my dessert.” His voice was a few octaves lower than usual and his words made you shiver, a blush creeping up your face as a nervous giggle escaped your lips. Maybe you could skip rewatching these old movies, just once.

Bidding a quick goodbye to the boys and ignoring their smirks, you both made your way to Namjoon’s room. As soon as you were out of sight, Namjoon pulled you into another kiss, slotting your lower lip between his, making your heart race as he walked you down the hallway towards his room. You almost tripped over his bags haphazardly strewn in front of his door.

“Sorry, didn’t have time to go to my room yet.” He chuckled against your lips as his grip on your hips stabilized you. You giggled as you turned around to open his door, his lips on your neck instantaneously as he rubbed his growing bulge against your butt. His touch had you breathless as you moved in his room, Moni following closely behind you. Removing himself from you he picked up his dog and moved him outside murmuring an apology to the whining canine as he shut the door.

Without wasting any time, he pinned you against the door, your makeout session getting heavy. Your eyes were screwed shut as you mewled, his lips along your neck igniting a fire in you. Your hands moved from his hair to the buckles of his overalls, snapping them off as they fell to the ground unceremoniously. “Oh look! Easy access!” you exclaimed as he smiled against your skin.

His lips met yours again, his hands kneading the flesh of your sides under your shirt. You could kiss him like this forever, the way his tongue explores your mouth as if he doesn’t already know every crevice of your body, as if he’s worshipping you. His kiss slows down, turning from a sloppy fiery heat to intentional moves made to make you moan as he moves you towards the bed, dropping you to the middle as soon as your knees hit the back of the bed. He stands above you removing his shirt with one hand as you move backwards and soon he’s slotting himself between you.

“Fuck I love you.” He whispers as he kisses your cheek, moving towards your ear. You moan loudly as he grinds against you. Your hands run over his back, feeling the muscles as he continues to kiss your neck, biting it before soothing it with wide licks of his tongue. You used to be embarrassed by the marks he left behind but somehow as time passed you craved them. Jiyoung had even nicknamed him your vampire, and you’d be lying if that didn’t make you giddy.

Realizing you were still fully dressed you pushed at his chest, making him lie next to you as you straddled him, one of your knees almost slipping off the edge of the bed. You giggle at your clumsiness as he holds your hips to steady you and you slowly unbutton your shirt. As your skin becomes visible he runs his hands up your stomach to your chest, squeezing each breast as he reaches your neck before pulling your face to his.

“Mhmm… my pretty girl.” He almost growls as he pulls you into another heated kiss, his hands cupping your face as you grind on him. Suddenly you feel a tug at your hair, making you moan into his mouth, breaking the kiss. Before you know it you are on the floor, laughing at your clumsiness as you see his confused face, eyes still closed, lips puckered.

However, your laughter dies as you hear a loud screech. That’s when you feel that your hair was still being tugged as you looked up to see a tall, bulky woman, probably in her late thirties calling you a slut. Before you can even register what is happening you feel a sharp pain across your face as you realize you’ve just been punched. You taste the iron before you notice drops of bright red on your chest.

You cup your nose with one hand as you hear chaos ensue. Namjoon yelling your name as Moni barks loudly outside the room. You are aware that you are still lying on the floor but your eyes refuse to open as you hear scuffling before the door being slammed and Jungkook’s voice.

Everything’s a blur and you hear a loud blood curdling scream. Before you can register that that noise came from your mouth you hear your arm snap just as the most pain you have ever felt in your life turns your arm numb. You don’t remember much after, only grunts and shouts of your name. The last thing you hear is Namjoon’s voice calling your name repeatedly as he holds your head.

——

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#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon series #namjoon angst #rm x reader #rm fluff #rm smut #rm angst #purplearmynet #houseofddaeng #thebtswritersclub #thetruthuntoldnet #btsnoonanet #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts idol au #ficswithluv

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talas-starlight · 4 years ago

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Scarred Spirit - Zuko x fem!reader (pt.4)

SUMMARY: *queue beebo* ladies and gents this is the moment you’ve waited for

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

WARNINGS: swearing, australian spelling (not a warning just letting you know)

OTHER PARTS IN THE SERIES: pt1 / pt2 / pt3 / pt4 / pt5 / pt6

MASTERLIST: Here!

As the Cherry Blossom trees were in full bloom, Iroh was basking in the peace he hadn’t felt in weeks. Zuko on the other hand, sat next to the entryway sulking. Of course, Iroh, being the caring uncle he was, wished to relieve him of all the angst within him on this beautiful day and approached him with a solemn expression on his face. “I see, it’s the anniversary isn’t it.”

Beneath his straw hat, Zuko scowled agitated his uncle brought it up, as if it wasn’t the first thing he thought about when he woke up this morning. “Three years ago today, I was banished. I lost it all. I want it back. I want the avatar. I want my honour. My throne. I want my father, not to think I’m worthless.”

“I’m sure he doesn’t! Why would he banish you if he didn’t care?”

Wordlessly Zuko rose and walked away from his uncle, frustrated and terrified of what else his uncle might say. Finding a cherry blossom tree far, far, away from Iroh, he sat down beneath it angrily. He hated this day. He hated what it did to his life. He hated how the memories of you consumed his mind more prominently today than any other day of the year.

He never said it out loud, but he wanted you just as much as he wanted his honour. He wanted to see you alive. Breathing right in front of him. And he’d be damned if he admitted it to his uncle. Why, he wanted you? He wasn’t sure. You have always lingered in the back of his mind, not constantly, but every once in a while, it always seemed to come back to you. Or at least what was left of you in his mind.

This annoyed him endlessly. How could someone, who he barely spoke a word to, stay in his mind for so long? He didn’t even know what you looked like! He let out a groan of frustration. He wished he could remember what your voice sounded like. Then, at least he would have something to hold onto. He tried desperately to cling onto the memory of you. The way your baby hair stuck out of your top knot, your posture as you shielded him the best you could, the feeling of your robes on his fingertips. But it was no use. There was no point in it all. None of it would lead him to you. For all he knew, you were probably dead.

That prospect terrifies him so much that he refuses to utter a word about you into existence.

After countless days of following the giant fire nation ship from a considerable distance behind, you were grateful when they finally docked. You were beyond starved, stupidly underestimating how long Azula would be at sea. It seems you got a little too cocky in your abilities over the years. Shaking your head, you put yourself into a more focused mindset, now more than ever, you couldn’t afford to be sloppy. Tying your small boat to a dock which situated behind some rocky mountains and far away from any view from where their ship was, you began your search for robes to blend in.

Swiftly moving about in the shadows to avoid any interaction with people off Azula’s boat, you manage to ascend the stairs leading up to an Earth Kingdom village. Upon seeing the first clothesline with clothes that look like you could fit into, you grab the pink robes. Grabbing some extra cloth, you make a makeshift mask to shield your face and neck, and wind small pieces around your hands completely. Finally, and most importantly, you double checked to ensure that all of your weapons were strapped securely underneath.

Satisfied with your disguise, you decide to head near the dock to check if Azula’s made any advancements in her plan to get her brother and uncle back. However, you faltered, hearing a small argument break out a few huts away. Initially, you dismiss it, although just as you were about to journey back down the mountain, you felt something… like a crack of lighting waiting to go off.

Azula.

You follow the sounds of the argument and Azula’s inner fire. Hiding within a bush near an open window; you listen in on whatever was going on inside.

“What are you doing here?!”

“In my country, we exchange a pleasant hello before asking questions. Have you become uncivilised so soon, Zuzu?”

“Don’t call me that!”

Eyes widening at the realisation, wait… that’s Zuko?

“To what do we owe this honour?” You quickly assume that’s their uncle.

“Hmm, must be a family trait. Both of you so quick to get to the point.” Azula’s voice is harsh, almost as if she’s ready to strike.

Must she be so dramatic?

“I’ve come with a message from home. Fathers changed his mind, family is suddenly very important to him. He’s heard rumours of plans to overthrow him—treacherous plots. Family are the only ones you can really trust. Father regrets your banishment; he wants you home.”

At Zuko’s lack of response, you grew worried. No Zuko don’t-

“Did you hear me?! You should be happy. Excited. Grateful! I just gave you great news.”

You felt Zuko come closer to the window. He felt more muted… less angry.

“I’m sure your brother simply needs a moment…”

Azula snapped at Iroh. “Don’t interrupt uncle! I still haven’t heard my thank you. I’m not a messenger. I didn’t have to come all this way.”

“Father regrets? He… wants me back?”

Fuck! Don’t listen to her you coal brain!

“I can see you need time to take this in. I’ll come to call on you tomorrow. Good evening.”

As Azula left back to the ship, you cursed under your breath. Yes, you knew your job. And yes, you knew what would happen to Zuko and Iroh if they foolishly believed the princess. You needed a plan.

Maybe if I could just… steer him in another direction, help bring light to the situation. Maybe they’ll listen. Quietly retreating away from the hut, you walked into the town, looking for a way to talk to them without being obvious.

A few hours later, the best you could come up with was to deliver them some food for the evening, pretending you worked for the owner of all the huts. It wasn’t your best plan, but most people openly welcome free food, so it was good enough. But for the first time in your life, you felt nerves, unlike any other. Sure, you were nervous when you jumped to save Zuko, but this was different. Then, your nerves activated your fight responses, but today? These were the kind of nerves that made you want to run away because you’ve already gone over the multitude of possibilities that might occur. But of course, you dismissed the thoughts of running away, because once again, you were on a mission to save his life despite the threats Ozai made you.

Did he forget about me as I told him to, all those years ago? Hopefully, he did. After all, he is alive.

Just as you were about to enter, you heard his voice inside. “We’re going home! After three long years. It’s unbelievable!” Your eyes widened at the excitement in his tone. That wasn’t a good sign considering what you were about to do.

“It is unbelievable. I have never known my brother to regret anything.”

“Did you listen to Azula? Fathers realised how important family is to him. He cares about me!” Now you began to seriously contemplate on walking in there right now, and beating him until he came to his senses.

It seemed Iroh wasn’t having it either. “I care about you! And if Ozai wants you back well, I think it may not be for the reasons you imagine.”

“You don’t know how my father feels about me. You don’t know anything!”

“Zuko, I only meant that in our family things are not always what they seem.”

“I think you’re exactly what you seem. A lazy, mistrustful, shallow old man who’s always been jealous of his brother!”

Okay, I’ve heard enough coal brain.

You let out a deep, shaky breath. It seems no matter how hard you try to keep your cool, you’ll never be entirely ready for what you’re about to throw yourself into. Balancing the tray of food in your left arm, you round the corner to the front of the hut, emitting a firm knock onto the side of the entryway.

Zuko whips around at the sound. “Who are you? What do you want!”

As he looks at you with his harsh and angry glare, you feel like you’ve been smacked in the face multiple times. Ironically, you also knew it had been precisely three years since you jumped to save him, and now you finally get to witness the full extent of your failure. Heart tightening at the severe contrast to how he sounded all those years ago, you take in his pain. His anger.

Feeling the intense fire burning inside of him from his anger and rage, it almost takes you back. It seems that the years he spent away from his old home has damaged the afraid, innocent boy you once knew. As you wear your stolen robes and mask shielding your neck, a nasty feeling forms in your gut. You have always been able to cover your extensive scars with clothing, but him? His scar is almost too much of a visual representation for you to bear.

I should have moved to the left a bit more; then he wouldn’t have it. If I just aimed better when I jumped, he wouldn’t have to live like this. Maybe if I succeeded, he wouldn’t be so bitter.

Not letting how frustrated you feel towards yourself show, you bow to him and his uncle.

“My apologies, I did not mean to disturb you this evening. I am only here to deliver you some food, it’s on the house.”

This only fuels his anger, irritated that you weren’t anyone of great significance. “Fine. Just place it over there and leave us!”

Iroh sighs, walking towards you. “Zuko, that is no way to treat a young lady. My apologies for my nephew’s behaviour Miss, he has recently received some unexpected news today. Thank you for your services.”

You give a light smile, even though he can’t see it. “No, it’s alright. I understand how hard it may be to truly know what is the right choice when brought with unexpected circumstances.”

“I’m sorry who are you? Who do you think you are?! You know nothing, not even anything remotely similar to the situation I’m in. So don’t go around assuming you understand anything! You have no right coming in here and thinking you can help me in any way.”

His hostility begins to feel normal; you knew you should have expected him to be like this. “Of course my apologies sir, how could I be so senseless. I don’t mean to overstep. I only wish you relieve you of some of your stress. I meant no disrespect.”

At that moment, you almost slapped yourself. Idiot, why did I say that?

Zuko faltered, overwhelmed with the words you just slapped him with. And you said them on today of all days?

“What did you just say?”

Iroh who was intently watching you throughout the interaction snapped his attention towards his nephew, “Zuko, please, she only-“

“I’m sorry I meant no disrespect sir I-“

“Get out.”

Understanding that he wasn’t ready to take any guidance or advice from you, you silently bowed, turning to leave.

Just as you were about to walk out completely, you glanced back at him looking him in his golden, raged filled eyes, “pain doesn’t leave you forever Prince Zuko. It lingers. You should take the past and let it guide your future journey, not let it control you.”

As you stepped out into the unforgiving cold air, Zuko was frozen, gaping at the doorway where you once stood. How you knew of his true identity was beyond him, yet there was something hidden, masked beneath your final statement that didn’t sit right with him. The hair on his skin is standing at the entire interaction that just occurred. Of course, he had no idea who you were, so why did it feel like you knew more than you let on? Did you know anything about his past? Shaking it off, he continued to pack in silence. Even Iroh didn’t say a word.

Descending the mountain back towards your ship, words that you had memorised and locked away for years, suddenly resurfaced.

Maybe Azula was right after all.

Early the next morning, you rose with the sun. Soon after eating some breakfast made out of the fish you hunted last night, you decided to make your way near the massive ship. As per Ozai’s orders, you hid behind some greenery into a position that left you unseen to everyone.

Eventually, they showed up to the docks, and honestly, you were upset that Iroh was unable to get through to his nephew. But there was nothing you could do about it right now.

Due to the distance, you weren’t able to make out what they were saying, leaving you to have to read Azula’s lips, as she was the only one you could clearly see. Yet that didn’t seem to matter because soon enough, a fight broke out.

That’s not looking too good.

Knowing better than to expose yourself right away, you waited. Telling yourself that if they needed help, then and only then, would you help them.

After a few minutes, you watched lighting make impact with one of the rocky cliffs, sending rocks all around. With Zuko and Iroh running off the ship to escape, you knew it was time to run after them. Help them find a way to get away from Azula for good. Although, as you stood, you suddenly felt lightheaded and your vision got blurry, sending you straight to the ground.

What the heck?

Struggling to gain any body strength, you tried to get up again, but it was useless. The hair across your body stood up, but you weren’t cold, you were sweating. Looking down, you saw that your hands were alit in fire.

W-what?! What’s happening to me! Stop it y/n. Stop. Turn it off.

Panicking you tried to shake it away, but nothing was working, and your breath began to quicken.

What’s happening?! No. Stop. No!

Suddenly, you lost all sight of what was in front of you, and a blinding white light encompassed your mind. You closed your eyes, but it didn’t go away. When you reopened your eyes, you were faced with scenery you had never seen before. In the distance, high above you, there was an older man in what appeared to be old Fire Nation robes, and a young boy dressed as an Air Nomad on a dragon.

Is that the Avatar?

Due to the distance, you couldn’t make out what they were saying, and they seemed so engrossed in their conversation, they didn’t see you. This prompted you to do the only logical thing anyone could do; you screamed.

“HEYYY! DOWN HERE!! I COULD USE A LITTLE HELPPPPP!!!”

Instead of hearing you, your surroundings began to change. First, there was a lady dressed in Kyoshi attire. Then suddenly, you were in the middle of the ocean with a man from the Water Tribe about to send a massive wave towards you.

Holy shit.

Before you could react, your surroundings changed once again, and you were in the middle of a field with a female Airbender, soon switching to a Firebender erupting volcanoes around him.

Okay, what in Spirits name is happening to me.

You tried to scream again, but it was no use. It was like an awful dream, unable to move and watching events happen before you. No matter how much you screamed or flailed your arms around, neither person on the dragon seemed to be able to notice you. Letting out a final scream of desperation, you were ready to give up.

Where the hell am I? Is this a dream? Am I trapped here? WHAT EVEN IS HERE?!

Nothing made any sense anymore; you were almost ready to admit defeat. But then you saw it. It happened so fast, and you nearly missed it. Yet as your body became frigid in shock, you knew it happened.

The dragon looked at you.

Is… is that dragon fucking smirking?! Ohmyspirits it’s going to eat me. Who would have known, death by spirit dragon.

Enough with your blabbering y/n. I apologise, but it’s not time yet. You were taken aback, shocked that you received a response from the dragon.

How did you get in my head?! And time? Time for what! For you to eat me?!

Completely disregarding your concerns, the dragon’s eyes turned to stare back at you. Almost as if it were peering into your soul. The people upon him didn’t even notice the dragon’s current focus. Look at what they’ve done to you… if only they knew. We will meet again y/n, when it’s time.

The white light re-entered your mind, blinding you once again. Only this time, you were met with darkness.

A/N: Thank you for reading!! What did you think of the lil reunion??

GAHAHAHA we lowkey on some kdrama energy out here but anywaysss! please don’t be shy,, let me know what you think or send a message! i feel like this series is going downhill a lot faster than i expected :// idk anyway! even if its not related to my fics,, homie gets a lil lonely so id love to chat 😊

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