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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years ago

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Of something beautiful, but annihilating🚬4

Warnings: nonconsensual touching, fingering, deceptive behaviour, allusions to abuse.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Note: I haven’t updated in a minute but I got the yen to come back to Arvin so here we go! Also working away at my gif requests which are super fun :)

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The fight echoed in your head as Arvin buttoned up the front of your dress, although a few were missing. He helped you to your feet and you leaned on him heavily, barely able to see ahead of you, let alone support yourself on your shaky legs. You climbed the stairs as your mind passed through a tunnel of shock. You didn’t realise you’d even left the living room until you were lowered onto the bed.

Arvin sat beside you, his hand on your shoulder as he spoke softly. You didn’t understand his words as you turned your face away and tears trickled down your tender cheek. You weren’t sad that Roy was gone, you were embarrassed that another had seen what you let him do to you, and terrified of the nice man with the pistol.

Was he really so nice? You barely knew him at all and he’d had a gun under your roof. Sure, Roy had a rifle but that was for hunting. You couldn’t say or even try to imagine why Arvin had a handgun.

The lamp clicked off and the end of the chain clinked against the long stem. You laid in the dark, not daring to move, and after hours of dazed disbelief, you dozed off, your back wracked with pain from the tension and awkward position.

You woke with a stiff neck, a swollen face, and a weight in your chest. You sat up slowly and held your forehead as the bed shifted. Arvin dumped an armful of Roy's old flannels into the open suitcase at the foot of the mattress. You blinked and rubbed your eye as you leaned on one arm. You yawned and stretched your shoulders.

"What are you doing?" You asked.

"I'll see him today," he said as he pulled open the chest of drawers and grabbed the stained and torn denim from within, "make sure he stays away for good."

"What? Arvin," you bent your legs and crossed your arms over your knees, "he's my husband."

"He didn't act like one," he continued to toss Roy's clothes haphazardly into the bag, "he beat you!" He stopped and put his hands on his hips, "he never talked to you nice and…" he stopped and shook his head and closed the suitcase. He zipped it up with a sigh, "I heard him that first night. I figured, you weren't my wife, I could live with it. Well, I can't. You deserve better than him."

"It's not that easy. I can't just toss him out--"

"No, I did," Arvin insisted, "and I'll keep him out."

"You shouldn’t have done that. Last night. He'll be mad."

"So?" Arvin hauled the bag off the bed and dragged it to the door. The bottom of his shirt moved and revealed the butt of the gun sticking out of the top of his jeans.

"Are you gonna make sure with that?" You asked as you turned your legs over the side of the bed, "you can't just shoot him, you know that, don't you?"

"Of course, but he doesn't know I won't," Arvin looked back at you, "I'm gonna make breakfast then head out… how's your head?"

"Feels like there's a rock in my temple," you groaned and stood, "I don't want anyone to get hurt."

"No one but you, huh?" He challenged, "Look, I won't hurt him, I promise, but I also won't let him hurt you."

You neared him meekly as you hugged yourself, "why?"

"Because you do," he said, "because if you won't save yourself, I will. I have to," he looked down at his scuffed shoes, "I seen too many girls, too many women, hurt in my life. I ain't that old, you know? But I can't stand no more."

You watched him go and listened to him descend the old stairs. You frowned and flinched as you glanced around and caught a glimpse of yourself in the antique oval mirror your mother had left behind all those years ago. You looked as bad as you felt, worse; you couldn't help but be comforted by Arvin's concern, in fact, it felt good to have someone who cared about you.

🚬

It was hard to concentrate that day. Even a chore as simple as the dishes or sweeping the floors took twice as long as usual as your mind strayed to the night before and fears of what was to come.

You tried to convince Arvin to leave the bag there but he wasn’t folding, not like you. You admired him for that, but at the same time it made you squirm. Something had changed. He was no longer the sweet young man staying in your attic, he became the indomitable and angry man waving the gun around as he spoke about killing others without so much as flinching.

You remembered what he said. He’d killed a man before, or was it men? It wasn’t like you had anyone who could or would help you. You doubted Roy would come back even if you wanted him to, and on that front, you just couldn’t be sure. He was your husband and it was improper to put him out but let another man sleep under your roof.

The only woman in town who’d dared divorce her husband was Carmen Dolan and there was no where in town she went where people didn’t whisper about her; at the store, in church, and even on the sidewalks. It didn’t matter that her husband was sneaking around or that he was little better than Roy in his manners. It was a small place and people had too much time to talk.

Well, how many friends did you have there? Noreen couldn’t be called as much and all the girls you knew in school were married and too busy to keep up those old teenage ties. You could bide them at the sewing circles, they never were very nice, and you went to church out of obligation not out of a need for that ridiculous shallow socializing of housewives. Besides, you’d failed at all that, hadn’t you?

Then you began to worry. What if Roy flipped and hurt Arvin? Or Arvin hurt him? The suitcase would hardly be taken with a thanks. If Roy was ashamed enough he might just grumble and ignore the other man for the rest of the day, but if he wasn’t, he might just pick up where they left off last night.

You were hanging out the washing when a faded old Chevrolet drove up the dusty drive. You squinted past the stiff jeans as it steered closer and the engine stopped. Arvin climbed out and jingled the keys as he went around the other side. He took out a paper bag and crossed the yard.

“How was your day?” he asked with a smile.

You stared, dumbfounded. How could he act so… normal?

“Wh--what happened with…” your voice trailed out and you unclipped a pair of his jeans.

“Roy? Oh, he took his things and tucked tail after lunch,” he scoffed, “he didn’t look too good. Probably didn’t feel good neither.”

You nodded and dropped the jeans into the basket and tucked the pegs into your pocket. He crinkled the paper bag and stopped you from reaching to the next pair.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

You shook your head and stepped back so that his hand fell from your arm.

“I know last night was-- hard. I only did what I had to, not anything I wanted to,” his brows drew together, “here.”

He held out the paper bag and you eyed it warily. You chewed your lip and he stepped closer.

“Please, it’s, uh, I want you to have it,” he said, “you deserve it and maybe it is an apology. I went a little far but… I don’t regret it. Roy got what was coming.”

You took the bag and he tucked his hands in his pockets. “You didn’t have to get me nothing,” you said.

“Like I said, I wanted to. You do all the hard work here,” he replied, “and I’ll finish this up.”

He reached up and took down the next pair of pants and put them in the basket with the rest. He moved down the line as you watched him, the bag under your arm. You didn’t move, just watched. You looked over at the Chevrolet and frowned.

“Where’d you get the car?” you asked.

“Used,” he said as he folded a shirt in half and dropped it into the basket, “they had it down at the shop for a while now and I told the boss to take out installments from my next few checks. He didn’t mind much, he ain’t been able to get rid of it. Some work to be done but--” He lifted the basket and neared you, “you didn’t look yet?”

“Inside,” you said, “I didn’t wanna just leave you out here with all that.”

You nodded to the laundry and he pointed you toward the house. He followed you up onto the porch and through the screen door. He stopped to slip off his shoes and continued on after you into the living room. You put the bag down on the end table and uncurled the top.

You pulled out the large square and held up the record. The man who stared back at you had sparkling blue eyes and black hair. Elvis Presley smiled as if it was all a funny joke.

“There’s more,” he said.

You set down the record against the arm of the couch and reached into the brown bag again. You pulled out the fabric and a finely tailored pink dress in the latest style unfolded before you. You stared as he neared and he took the bag from the table. He revealed the last piece from the bag and set them down on the carpet, a pair of brand new heels.

“Why did you do all this?” you shoved the dress at him, “I can’t accept it.”

“You can,” he stepped back, “and just so you know, I’ll be paying my rent to you direct now.”

He sidled past you and took the album from the couch. He went to the record player and slid the vinyl from the sleeve. He carefully placed it on the player and lined up the pin. He turned back to you and crossed the room. He pulled the dress from your hands and let it slump over the couch cushion.

“Do you know the shimmy? I could show you? It’s the new thing,” he said as he took your hand, “you just move your hips, bend your legs a little, keep your arms out like this.” He moved slowly at first as he drew you into the middle of the room, “just with me, to the rhythm.”

“I can’t,” you protested, “really, I’m not a dancer.”

“Me neither, but it’s fun,” he tugged on your hand, “come on.”

He sang out of tune as he kept his hips moving. You watched him and tried to copy him, hoping to placate him long enough that you could escape to the kitchen. The dress, the album, the dancing, it all felt so wrong.

As the song ended, he brought you close and wrapped you up and slowed down. He swayed you with him as the record kept spinning. His eyes clung to yours.

“He didn’t know what he had,” he said.

“Arvin, I gotta start supper,” you whispered as you pushed on him, “please.”

“I got you the new dress so we could go to the drive-in,” he kept you against him, “Friday night. You like Audrey Hepburn?”

“I… haven’t seen much of her,” you confessed, “Arvin, really, the ham--”

“He’s not coming back,” he released you reluctantly, “I told you. I told him.”

“He’s still my husband,” you crossed your arms and looked down.

“Is he? He never treated you like his wife.”

“It’s the law--”

“Divorce him. You’ll keep the house, it’s yours. Your daddy left it to you.”

“And do what? I can’t afford it on my own--”

“You got me.”

“You won’t stay here forever,” you uttered.

He didn’t say anything and narrowed his eyes. He shrugged and turned away. “You have options and Roy is the wrong one,” he said, “you can’t hate yourself that much.”

You barely heard him and didn’t know how to respond. So you didn’t and left him to Elvis’ soft tones as you went to pull out the honey ham. You still had some of your sweet mustard left in that jar from last year or maybe the apple sauce. It was easier to focus on the food and not the madness of men.

🚬

The nights and days drifted by like sand in a glass. Whenever Arvin was there, even when he was in the attic and you were below, you were painfully aware that it was only the two of you in that big house. You weren’t afraid for yourself really, he hadn’t done anything to you. You should hate Roy for how he’d been to you all those years but you didn’t want to be the reason he got hurt.

But as the time went by, it was also harder to tell Arvin no. You never thought anyone could be overly helpful, especially after Roy’s indifference, but you were overwhelmed by his presence. He was always lurking around when you least expected, watching you, waiting. He always offered to finish the chore or kept you from doing it entirely. You should be thankful but it made you feel more guilty than anything.

When Friday came, you carried on your usual routine. You were mopping when the Chevrolet pulled up. He’d spent the night before with his head under the hood. He said it wasn’t too bad for the price and the repairs were minimal and none so urgent.

The car door closed then his steps walked up onto the porch. As he entered the house, you hit the mop against the wall and kept your head down, swiping back and forth against the wood. He didn’t dare to step past the threshold and mess your clean floors.

“You should finish up and get ready,” he said.

You looked up at him and feigned ignorance. You hoped all day he would forget about the movie. You didn’t want to wear the dress, it made your wedding ring chafe just to think of it. You focused again on the mop and kept back stepping away from him.

“Maybe not tonight, Arvin,” you said, “I’m tired.”

“You don’t have to work yourself sick,” he leaned against the doorframe, “really. You can always just take a day and… relax.”

You put the mop in the bucket and rested it against the wall. You took a deep breath but didn’t look at him.

“I don’t think we should go at all.”

He sighed and rubbed his cheek, “Really? Roy hasn’t even tried to come back. Hasn’t even tried to apologise. In all these years, did he ever once say sorry to you for anything?”

“Maybe not but I married him. I made that decision and I have to see it through.”

“Not like that,” he tutted, “besides, it’s just a movie…”

“Just a movie,” you repeated and walked over the drying floor, “alright then.”

He watched you and the thoughts wrinkled on his forehead. He let you go as you grabbed the railing and ascended the stairs. You felt his eyes on you, even after you turned down the hall, as if he could see you through the walls.

“We got time,” he called up, “no rush. It’s not even close to dark but I don’t want you to worry about… all this.”

You didn’t reply and closed the bedroom door. You sat on the end of your bed and clasped your hands. You still felt terribly trapped. You didn’t think so much of what Roy would say, he always said the worst. You thought about your father and how disappointed he would be. You knew he wouldn’t have let Roy treat you so bad if he was still alive, but he would still be sad if he knew how it all worked out.

🚬

You hadn’t been to the drive-in since you were going steady with Roy. It was a singular occasion and an unpleasant one. He got drunk and couldn’t drive home so you had to get behind the wheel and pray you didn’t crash. It wasn’t that you couldn’t drive, you just hated it. Thinking of it then, you should have expected all that came after.

Arvin pulled in as the sky dimmed slowly and he left you to go to concession and grab popcorn. When he returned, he handed you a box of chocolates as he cradled the large paper bag of kernels. You thanked him and opened the box, distracting yourself with the chewy caramels covered in milk chocolate. You offered him some as you looked around and waited for the screen to flash into motion.

There were a few families among the patrons but mostly teenagers, couples and groups, rowdy as they impatiently hollered for the film to roll. You hadn’t heard of this one, Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Arvin said he read about it in the paper and it was supposed to be a flick meant for ladies. He said he didn’t mind as he liked the actors.

When at last it was dark enough, the movie began and you set the box down on the seat and munched on a handful of popcorn out of courtesy. The credits began and you were quickly swept up into the life of Holly Golightly. You were almost agog to think that a woman could live like her. City life seemed so different, so free, so scary. And she didn’t let all those men rule her.

You felt Arvin slide closer to you and his arm snaked around your shoulders. You tensed as you focused on Hepburn’s waifish voice and offkey plucking of the ukulele. You tried to ignore him as you felt his warm breath and the kiss on your temple made you wince. Your eyes flicked over to the car on the other side of you, then the next. The audience was rapt.

His hand grazed along your skirt and he kissed your cheek. Your heart raced wildly. You wanted to stop him but didn’t know how. And he was so sweet and he did so much for you. He’d brought you all the way here and kept Roy from cracking your head open. Could you really say no?

“I know I said it already,” his hand lingered on the pink fabric, “but this looks wonderful on you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered as you kept your wide eyes on the screen.

“Really, you’re beautiful, honey,” he purred as he nuzzled your throat, “living so close… it’s hard…”

He pushed his hand under your skirt and up between your thighs. He wiggled until you parted your legs and grabbed your chin with his other. He turned you to face him and crushed his lips against yours. He leaned on you until you were flat against the seat and he brought your legs up onto the leather as he held himself over you.

He kissed you even deeper as his fingers tickled over the front of your panties and crawled up to the top. He slipped his hand down the front of your underwear and you whimpered. When he touched you, you were afraid but confused. It felt good, better than anything you’d ever done with Roy.

You gulped and turned your head as you gasped. You grabbed his shoulder and shuddered. His fingers delved between your folds and swirled. You murmured and squeezed his arm.

“Please, I’m-- I’m still married, we can’t--”

He nibbled at your neck and blindly reached up to grab your hand. He gripped the ring on your finger and forced it off and flicked it away. It rolled under the seat as he rasped against your throat.

“He’s gone,” his fingers danced around your clit eagerly, “don’t you understand? I’ll make sure he doesn’t come back, honey.”

“Arvin, I--” you squeaked as the waves swelled and flowed down your legs and you were caught in the tide, “please…”

You closed your eyes, your mind stormed with how wrong it was but your body pulsed with delight. He pushed his fingers further back and the heel of his hand pressed to your bud. He curled his fingers inside of your and you moaned as he rested the weight of his pelvis against his hand. He rocked his touch in time with his hips, as if he was fucking you, and kissed you on the mouth again, swallowing up your desperate cries.

Your legs wrapped around his as you came and you tilted your pelvis as you rode the high. He lifted his head to watch you orgasm and your lashes fluttered as you succumbed to the ecstasy. You squirmed as he slowed his fingers and stilled his hand entirely. You were out of breath as he stopped at last but kept his hand nestled between your legs.

You covered your face with your shaky hand and exhaled deeply. He pulled your hand down and rubbed the tip of his nose against yours.

“I’ll buy you a new ring,” he purred, “a nicer one.”

#Arvin Russell #dark arvin russell #dark!arvin russell #arvin russell x reader #the devil all the time #Of something beautiful but annihilating #series #fic #dark!fic #dark fic

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wyn-n-tonic · 4 years ago

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We Can Stay Like This Forever

Word Count: 2,385 Warnings: Uh... yearning. A crumb of smut. Dialogue heavy bullshit tbh. Author's Note: God okay, I've been sitting on this for like a month now? I wrote this when I couldn't focus on my own characters anymore and my brain needed to visualize parts of the scene I was trying to write using the body language of a character I already know and love so well. This is written in second person but the reader has a name. It was an experiment dashed out in a drunken fervor that made my editor weep. Anyway, if you see any of these lines in a book one day... no you don't.

MASTERLIST

“Javi, I haven’t loved you since I was twent—“

“That's bullshit and you know it,” he interrupts, voice coming out hard but arms crossed tighter than they have been all night, replacing the pressure of kevlar he’s so used to. Protective, defensive, stopping the bullets from reaching him where it matters the most.

Your lips are raw from dragging your teeth across them but biting down is the only thing that stops the tears from springing to the surface. You never thought you’d see him again, you never thought he’d be standing in your kitchen only strides away; two for him, four for you. You saw the news coming out of Colombia, heard it in the supermarket passed from ear to ear straight from his dad’s mouth. Javier Peña was the walking dead.

Javi left Lorraine for you. You gave him a choice and he made it and you, being certain he’d lean the other way, couldn’t live with that guilt. When you wrote that first letter, you didn’t expect a response. You just wanted to apologize, you wanted him to know that you were sorry. You didn’t expect to hear his voice on the other end weeks later when you picked up the phone. Hell, you had pushed the letter so far out of your mind that you’d forgotten you’d included your number.

And now he’s standing in front of you, tangible as ever. No longer just the boy you loved but a man aged so roughly by sun and stress that you are breaking within wishing that you had been there to smooth it all over.

“Goddamn it, Clara,” that hard tone reaches towards you again but he loosens his stance, the toned arms still holding close to his body but the tension bottoming out to his exhaustion, “are you going to say anything or are you going to just keep looking at me like I’m a fucking ghost?”

“Is that not what you are?” Your voice is broken when you find it again, the tears really do come now. “A ghost from my past come back to haunt my bad decisions? Tell me I fucked up?”

“Is that what you think I’m here for? Is that why you think I came to you first thing instead of my family?” He exhales a breath you didn’t realize he was holding and drags a hand through his hair, pinning you in place with his eyes. “Can I smoke in here?”

“I thought you quit.”

“Yeah well,” another exhale, the slightest hint of laughter on his lips, “I thought a lot of things I’ve been wrong about too.”

And god, those eyes. Simultaneously the warmest, softest brown but so black they look like blown out pupils. Like he’s the one who’s been snorting the cocaine, not busting those that do. You don’t even register the insult before nodding your head. What’s a little cigarette smoke when you run the risk of him walking out that door and not coming back?

But isn’t that what you want? Isn’t that the purpose of this conversation? Are you not being the same bitch you were all those years ago praying that he’ll be the one to walk out on you this time? Bringing it back full circle to that decision you forced on him half a lifetime ago?

“Yeah?” He doesn’t sound sure and even though your eyes are anywhere but on his now, you haven’t felt his leave you this whole time.

“Yeah,” you whisper to your feet like they’re the most interesting goddamn thing in the world.

After years of practice, he’s quick about it, you don’t even realize he’s lit up until he lets go of that first puff and, with it, the entire room changes. It’s not angry, it’s not hard, it’s… twenty years of heartache and longing compounding, neither party believing they’re good enough for the other.

You look back at the tired man standing in front of you, “Javier, I—“

“No. No, let me talk,” he rubs his eyes with his free hand, drags it down his golden cheek and smirks. Another inhale and, “I didn’t come here to tell you that you fucked up, you’ve said it plenty. We’ve been talking for months, we fell back in stride like nothing ever happened, like I hadn’t spent years pretending every woman I fucked was you because it was like you’d never left my side. Almost twenty-five hundred miles, Clara, I was a world away from you and when I came home at the end of the day the last six months…” he’s the one biting his lip now, “I could call you no matter the time and the sound of your voice made me feel like a normal person. Like I still had a shot at this world beyond the bounty on my head.”

His exhaustion, his softness, is palpable now as he stops to suck in a breath like he hasn’t taken one this whole time and then…

“If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t have written. If you didn’t love me, you would’ve hung up. If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t answer the phone at one o’clock in the fucking morning to tell me to breathe through the anger and the sadness and the horror I witnessed. But if that’s the story you want to stick with, I’ll go. I don’t expect anything I just…” his voice hitches, the cigarette long forgotten between his fingers, “I just wanted to see if your face still lights up when you laugh or if that had changed after two decades. It hasn’t and it’s still both my favorite sight and sound in the world. I’m sorry I didn’t fight harder to watch it grow through the years.”

He looks to the right of him and throws the cigarette in the sink. Pushing off the counter with his other hand, he takes one step forward and fixes his eyes on yours again. “Tell me I’m wrong, Clara. Tell me you don’t love me and I won’t ever darken your home aga—“

“I love you.”

And he’s on you. Just like that. Just one more step to close the distance and his body presses to yours. His large hands come up to cradle your jaw and his nose slots perfectly into place against yours and his lips touch down like a plane with faulty landing gear, crashing against yours all hot breath and stale tobacco and, oh god, the smell of him. Soap and sweat, the chemical make up of his scent flooding your senses to make you feel whole again when you didn’t even know how much you missed it.

His hands are sliding down gently, wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer. With his strong arms lifting you away from the counter, you no longer need to support yourself against it and you’re grabbing for him, trying harder to wring the space from between you like a worn rag but nothing is left.

The feel of him is something new, however. He’s not that scrawny kid who awkwardly held you to him, unsure of how his touches were affecting your body and pleasure. No, this Javier is different. Older, experienced, more tender than you remember him ever being, so sure of himself and just… thicker. Two shirt sizes up from the man you walked away from, his formerly wiry muscles are almost bubble wrapped in a way. What used to knot against you in hard planes of flesh and bone now give quietly against your touch as you’re pulling at the only thing that separates you now.

But suddenly, he’s breaking away. All heavy breaths and wildly flushed cheeks, his lips have left yours and the ache you numbed in his absence returns like a migraine after sleep. You need him and he’s gone again and you’re chasing his kiss with a whine as he replaces his lips with a thumb, cradling your face once more and shushing you, “Cálmate, mi amor. Está bien. Are we moving too fast right now?”

And you are breathless as you answer, “We are not moving fast enough, Javier.”

“I just don’t want you to think that this is all that I want. That you will wake to find an empty bed tomorrow.”

“If I woke to find an empty bed tomorrow, that’s exactly what I’d deserve.”

Those eyebrows knit up in confusion, the lines that have made their home on his forehead making you simultaneously weak in their beauty as evidence of his life and sad in the tragedy that you weren’t there to watch him earn them.

“Clarita,” his tone is so soft, the endearment coming to him as naturally now as it did in the before, “If it’s punishment you think you deserve then I’m here to tell you that you’re wrong. I chose you, you didn’t beg for it. I did that of my own accord. And when you chose to walk away because you felt guilty, I did beg you. I’ll own it, I begged and pined but you couldn’t get out of your own head long enough to see that you were never the issue, you were the solution. You still are. I have searched for you in everybody I’ve ever met. So tell me,” his hands are wrapping around your arms now, “Are you ready to forgive yourself and find me in your bed tomorrow morning?”

“Yes,” comes barely audible through parted lips as his find yours once more, knocking the breath from your chest as his hands slide down to your hips. He digs his fingers into the denim there and slowly starts to guide you through the home that’s not his thinking, correctly, that the only door at the end of the hallway is the destination he really booked from Bogotá.

And he is burning a hole through you, his entire being set on fire against you in the already blazing Texas heat. He is gentle as he pushes you down, climbing on top with one arm out to break both your falls. His shirt was abandoned somewhere in the kitchen, shoes kicked off in the hallway with your shorts not far behind. His belt buckle is riding against you as he rocks his hips down, forgetting the metal between you in his hunger for you to feel him.

He feels you wince, the whine swallowed between his lips but he’s pulling back like he’s electrocuted you. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” your hands are shaking as you take advantage of the space between, “just take your pants off.”

He hits you with that crooked smile and meets your hands where they’re still trembling at his hips and, god, he’s swift. He wastes no time kicking off his jeans and falling back into you, pressing back into you. You can feel him straining against his briefs but his patience is unmatched as he savors every taste of your mouth, every nip at the warm skin of your neck and chest. His hands are exploring the years that have marked your body as you mentally catalogue the scars that have taken over his.

He’s pushed your shirt up as far as it will go without leaving you but when he finally does to lift it away, the separation is so quick that it feels like nothing. He’s everywhere and you’re delirious, half thinking you’re imagining him moaning into you as he takes your hand in his to put it where he wants it.

You almost think…but, no, that’s not how that works. Your brain is fucking with you, unable to reconcile the man on top of you with the memory of the boy you loved once upon a time. But you swear, he’s bigger. He holds his breath as your hand slides between him and his waistband and he’s looking down at you like he’s never been touched at all. The sadness showcased across the softness of his face is made worse by the sheen of sweat and blush across his nose. You’d almost believe it if you couldn’t feel the heartbeat in his hardness, waiting for you to make the next move.

After two beats of aching silence, looking up into the galaxies he has the audacity to call eyes, your other hand moves to push at his waistband. If you thought he was urgent before, the graceful rush to join your efforts is gold medal worthy. Your senses are delayed, you’re not sure if the sound of fabric hitting the ground comes before or after he’s ripping at the only bit of fabric that separates you now.

“Fuck,” he rests his forehead to yours, “I'll buy you another pair.” The confusion bubbles into laughter as you realize that, yes, he actually tore them from your body.

But the bubbling laughter in your throat squeezes into a tight gasp, the air punched from your lungs as he steadies himself against you. His long fingers are brushing your hair to the side as he leans down and whispers against your lips, “Can I?”

“Please,” but your begging is lost in his response before the word has fully left your lips. He is grabbing in a way you haven’t felt in years. Hungry, like he can’t get enough, like it’s all he needs.

It is devastating, the build up. He’s ripping through the deepest parts of you and you’re convinced, wholeheartedly, that the only truth you’ve ever known rides on the waves of his name. His grip tightens, his teeth dragging down your jawline and warmth takes over as an earthquake shatters what little composure you’ve kept.

He moans low in his throat once.

Twice.

Three times it dies out against your ear like it’s only meant for you. Like it was all only meant for you.

He’s smiling as he softens, you can hear it in his voice as he slowly asks, “Can we just stay like this for a minute?”

You press your lips to that dimple, singular and lonely on the right side of his face; so far gone from a five o’clock shadow, you’d almost think he’s been forty all his life.

“Javier,” your fingers wind tighter through the sweat slick curls at the crown of his head, “we can stay like this forever.”

#narcos #fanfic #fanfiction #javier pena #javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal

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muffindaddystyles · 4 years ago

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Vamp!harry x readers first time being fully intimate! He’s scared of hurting her so he’s really hesitant to do it. it’s also her first time in general so maybe you can make it really fluffy please??

Sorry for being supppppeeerrr late but promise it's gonna be worth it. All my lovin!!

Vampire!harry at valentines day.

It's valentine's day. For Harry everyday is a day for lovin' but in vampire culture valentines is the key to the lock of ever love and showing your passion towards your better half. He showered Y/N in abundant of affection; was waiting for her to wake up on his bedside like an impatient puppy and the moment she blinked open her eyes he was all over her. Almost swallowing her whole. His plush lips kissed every inch of his lovie and muffled all her giggles with his heavy smoochs.

"Will you be my valentine?" He murmures against her mouth and she squeaks still sleepy, "ofcourse yes!" He was joyous and kissed her as many times as he could.

She was all smushy squeals and jumpy on her bum while ripping her gifts down, "Slow down poppet 's all yours." He laughed resting his chin atop her head. She got all blushy and shy in his arms when on her rummage a furry brallete top and shorts dangled with her fingers, "'s sooo cute Harry. Thank you!" She tries to kiss him but it lands against his chin. Pastel heart boxes full of rich chocolates and strawberries made her sky rocket over the moon dribbling him with her kisses and sweet whispers.

After exchange of gifts, chocolates and kisses they went to diner near her flat hands in hands for some tummy filling brekkie. They were inseparable, with heart twinkling eyes, tender gushes and sighs full of love for eachother. Anyone could spot them the couple from far like a bat under the moonlight.

It's cloudy and thick so she hauled him with herself flopping into poof of lavender fields the scent cocoons them as they stared into eachother's eyes with love and happiness till she lifted her fingertips to lightly brush it over his silken dollop of cheeks with a quirk of lips; it burns. To touch him. Lit her core on fire with desire and yearn to be his's fully.

He takes her cheeks and gently, gently, ever so gently smudges his candy lips against hers to taste her mouth. Sliding his palms down her spine under her bottom to pull her ontop of him without un-sealing his lips from over her's. Her hands meanders under his hickory curls that made him grunt and raise his hips to push against her womanhood.

"Want you, please." She whimpers putting the pressure down on his bulge jolting with the wave of pleasure with each swivel, "shh. shh 's okay gonna take care of ye' . . . Let's go home first." He pets her hair murmuring against her chin and plucks her pout when she shakes her head with eagerness.

"What lovie', didn't know ye' were thatttt kinky!?" He tickles her dimples at the sides and she scooches down into his chest with spurts of laughs, "Aish. 'M not . . just want you to take me."

"You'll 'ave me – darlin' in the best way possible." He sighs kissing her sweetly with tongue to explore her tangeriness and his nostrils flares when she whines with the flutter of her eyelashes.

"Come fo' me again baby." He says while licking up her folds with hunger pinning down her shivering thighs as his sleek fingers pumped her own cum back inside her. They came back home, undressed in haste and Harry wrapped her around him like a soft bear laying her down promising her that he'll fill her with his cock. Gave his tongue and fingers to her, playing filthy between her sticky thighs with three digits of his's buried deep inside her weepy pussy.

It's her second orgasm and still the knot in her stomach didn't unwind. It'll only after being stuffed full with his thick fat prick deep inside her wet cunt. When she whines trying to latch to his shoulders murmuring, "what if it'll not fit?" He giggles popping out her nipple from between his lips with a dirty noise.

"Now, I'll take it as a compliment but 'ave been warmin' ye up fo' a mo' haven't I?" He palms her breasts and runs his thumbs over her nipples while circling her clit; watching as she squirmed and whimpered under him. "You're wet fo' a proper nice fuck baby — bet gonna take my dick so well fo' me." He spreads her gooness down her slit dangerously close to her other hole. She gasps and he swallows it with a kiss pressing his thumb against her puckering pink hole while slithering his ring finger inside her dripping pussy.

"'S all fo' me?" He prods inside her making her moan breathily and she bobs her head desirous to have him all for herself. He tucks his trousers down while sucking her bottom lip tenderly, his erection slapping his lower tummy and her shivering hands brushes the aching tip of his cock making him rut in her grip.

"Oh me sweet bundle of blood." He whispers gazing into her earthy eyes with passion and love bitting his pale jutted lips when she stroked him spreading his pre-come down his thick shaft. He glides his palm under her back other cupping her jaw, "stay still fo' me moppet." He says in a low hum working his oozing prick between her folds making squelching noises. Sliding it down and inside her slowly almost loosing his balance knocking his forehead against her.

"S' tight." Her wetness allowing him to extend deeper till he pulled out making both of them whine, "shh. I gotcha lovie' . . ." He huffs bottoming out snug and warm inside her fluttering walls milking the tip of his cock, it pimples goosebumps at their skins.

He frees her wrists touching her sides, "you can move now." She quickly winds her forearms around his shoulders loving the way their bare skin feels together while they're intervined in such an intimate way. A shiver runs down his bone marrow when her lips skims over his throat and teeth grazes to find the perfect spot to mark him just the way he does to her, "tell me if it hurts yeah? don't wanna harm ye' in any way." He's grinding his hips at very gentle pace just to test waters. His hand groping and teasing her pebbled nipples sometimes sneaking down to flicker her clit.

"You'll not, please please . ." She tries to thrust into him but he pins them down glaring her sternly. He's awed how hooded with lust her eyes are, darker than his demonic ones and it's so sexy his hips quacks pummeling inside her unintentionally but it made her go feral, "'m serious baby." He nudges her thighs wider holding it down watching himself push inside her yearningly.

"Can you please fuck me now?" She breathes annoyed at him and he grins giving her chaste kiss on lips, "y'want that? dirty babe." Her eyes rolls back when he thrusts inside her continuously without a waver roughly while kissing her collar bones controlling himself to take a bite from her. He could listen how erratically her heart's been beating squirming his lips upwards as she arched and thrashed under him.

He sucks her nipple inside his mouth pulling at it with a hum and crimson rimmed irirses fucking her brutally to make her see stars and saturn.

"Wanna cum?" He presses his palm with force against her belly to feel himslef bumping through stroking his ego. Her eyes teary and button nose red as she nods, "then beg." He smirks and it made her tug at his roots from the pleasure of sight when his fangs poked out ever so slightly within his gums.

"Please harry. Can I come?" Her upper body shaking from avoiding to gush all over his cock and he twitches against her spongy walls with a whimper while playing with her clit, "yes cum right now." Her moans were the most erotic thing Harry has ever heard as she let herself limp in his arms feeling safe and happy coating his dick with her cum. Babbling incoherence under him and his face falls into her neck fucking her, overstimulating her with each stroke and she holds him tight cooing in his ear as he came hissing when her glistening soaked pussy tried to push him out.

After some minutes he recouped, kissing the side of her head trailing little pecks at her sweaty line bringing her up closer to his chest.

"Was I good?" His gaze soft and genuine. "The best." She hiccups tiredly. Cheeks blushed and eyes glassy, "How was I?" Her shyness clear. "I love how your pussy feels around me. Swallows me perfectly." He smiles whispering the end part and she whispers it back, "made for eachother."

He cleans her with baby wipes rubbing them between his hands before using them to swipe away his cum from her inner thighs. Hushing her softly when she whimpers as he nudges at a particular sore bite or her sensitive folds. Threw sheets into hamper and brought her favourite patched quilt to cuddle under it not letting her untangle her calves from his's at all.

Then in evening they baked together more like her checking out her love marks on her body in the glassiness of refrigerator while he squats beside the oven like an over excited puppy. She gasps dramatically wiggling her bum to have a better look then almost shoving it against his face making him tumble.

"Harry! you left a horrendous bite under my bum!!" He gives out a belly ache laugh slapping her arse playfully, "What can I say, moppet. Ye' got a cute lil bum. Couldn't resist biting ye'r peach" She huffs trying to grab him but in an instant he's turning into the weeny black creature flapping his wings down at her small lips smirking down at her in victory.

"Oi. You can't just turn a bat everytime you do somethin' naughty, it's unfair!" She puts her hands on her hips glaring up at him and he flies to the other direction but unfortunately knocks himself into the book shelf. Her laugh echoes into whole house as he transforms back into his humanly figure rubbing his head smiling up at her full of giddiness and she flops down beside him kissing his dimples with a grin that doesn't seem to disappear.

"Happy valentines day you fool."

#vampire harry smut #vampire harry #vampire harry x reader #dirty one shots #harry dirty one shots #harry smut #harry angst #harry styles smut

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sarahjkl82-blog · 4 years ago

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Ok, yoga thots...instead of finding him a class, Nush offers to show him the basics. At her or his apartment. My yoga instructor was very...hands on. He wasn’t shy about coming up behind you and yanking your hips into the proper alignment or moving you into the correct pose. I can imagine Nush being the same. Telling Marcus to relax into it, pushing and pulling him into down dog or warrior, etc. and neither of them are unaffected by the seemingly careless but inherently intimate touches.

Once their relationship is more established, I can him turning the tables on her; teasing her with light touches to “correct” her form. Pulling her hips firmly back into him when she’s in down dog because “she really needs to extend into and out of the pose”. Yeah...yoga thots 🥵

For you @silverwolf319 Enjoy the fluff to sexiness ❤️❤️❤️

Marcus Pike is a good man. He does not spend the hours you practise yoga having impure thoughts about what he knows is enclosed in your brightly tie-dyed sports bra and how those tightly fitting leggings leave nothing to his imagination. He wouldn’t dream of the possible different positions he could comfortably take you in, on that yoga mat that is almost permanently unrolled on his balcony. He does not think about the strength, curve and definition of muscle in your thighs when you pedal your legs in downward dog. Or how, those thighs look wrapped around his head or how they could easily snap his neck with their goddamn strength.

What a way to go!

Today, you have those shiny silver shorts on - the ones that when you bought them, you loved them so much that you did what you thought were comical shimmies all around the apartment in them and although all Marcus could do initially was laugh, they soon were strewn upon the floor.

They keep catching the morning sun, making your ass sparkle like a sexy disco ball. In stark contrast, your black vest top is like a second skin absorbing some of the shock factor of your lower half. Instead of Marcus’ usual position of sitting at his dining table in the chair opposite the door, he has decided to join you, out on the balcony.

“What do you want? Have you come to disrupt my path to Nirvana?” You cheekily question the purity of his intentions, whilst settling yourself on your mat, cross-legged with your weight evenly across your sit bones, about to begin mindful breathing.

Marcus reaches out to encircle his arms around you in a hug, kissing the side of your forehead, “Teach an old man some new tricks. Your brother was fit to be tied when he found out I only do running and weights. He said that as the yoga queen, you are the deity I need to bow to.”

“That’s not what he said.”

“Okay, so I’m paraphrasing... slightly.”

Marcus grins at the small huff you exhale as he knows full well that means he’s got his own way, “Fine, but just remember that yoga goes way beyond the physical asanas. Sometimes just thanking your body for breathing is all you need to achieve from your practice.”

“My breathing is okay - but my IT bands and my hamstrings are not,” he concedes.

“Alright clever clogs, you’ve just been for a run haven’t you?” Marcus nods at you by way of confirmation, “Thought so, stinky boy.”

Teasingly waggling his sweaty pits towards you - that by no stretch of the imagination actually smelled - he loves watching your pretence of disgust whilst trying to swallow a giggle, “Right, we’re going to start by stretching your spine six ways.”

“Is that even possible?” He asks, eyes widening and skin looking a little ashy.

“This is just your warm up, idiot,” you swat at his shoulder playfully, “Sit however you feel comfortable, put your left hand on the outside of your right knee and now as you breathe out, I want you to twist to the right. With every exhale, try to twist a bit more.”

Crunch-

Marcus’ face contorts in horror at the sounds coming from his body, “Should my spine have made that noise?”

“Yep. Now you’re going to do the twist the opposite way- right hand on left knee and then twist to the left.”

Clunk-

“That already feels pretty good - can I go eat pancakes now?”

He loves how you narrow your eyes, shaking your head at his level of commitment to the exercise, “Now, we’ll do a lateral stretch- right hand beside your hip and arc the left arm over your head,” you place your hands on Marcus’s back and chest to stop him from collapsing forwards, opening his heart up, “‘K, now you need to do the other side.”

“Now, I want you to come to all fours, with your back like a tabletop. You’re going to do a Cat and Cow here and then your back should be warm.”

After arching and curving his back until you are satisfied, he allows you to help him up into his first ever downward dog - he enjoys you guiding his hips back and telling him to bend his knees a little until his back is perfectly straight.

“Try holding this for ten breaths. This is a brilliant pose for runners as it strengthens your hamstrings, calves and foot arches.”

Marcus listens more carefully than you give him credit for, enjoying your no nonsense attitude. The little adjustments you do to him, make him more comfortable than he ever thought he’d be upside down with his ass in the air. And you’re right - of course you are - but being outside, breathing deeply and listening to the bird song is just making him feel so relaxed.

“Ok Bubs, I want you to bring your knee towards your hands and plant your right foot between your hands,” you gently instruct him, “Do it slowly, there’s no race. Now drop your left leg to the floor and sweep your arms up to the sky to balance. This is a low lunge - quite often called runners lunge- as it’s great for your IT bands and hamstrings.”

Marcus enjoys the all too brief feeling of your hands on his bottom to help him tuck his coccyx under before helping him back into a downward dog to work his left side. He watches you walk over to the edge of the balcony, the slight movement in your shorts throwing sunlight back at him.

You are my sunshine, my only sunshine.

“Is it time for that lying down and sleeping pose yet?” Marcus questions pleadingly.

He loves the small laugh you give him, as you turn back towards him - eyes sparkling with mischief.

“No savasana yet, I thought we could have some fun with some couple poses,” oh that cock of your eyebrow has all the blood in Marcus’ body rushing to one area.

“Ok the first one is you holding me up in a plank position - your feet holding my lower tummy and your hands holding mine.”

Marcus places his socked feet gently against your hip bones, threading his much thicker fingers between yours, “Ready?”

He feels you take a small bounce up and catches your weight on his feet, straightening his legs, hoisting you up into the air.

“EAGLEEEEEE!” you squeal, eliciting a hearty chuckle from Marcus - the vibration making you almost lose your balance and wobble precariously, “ARGH!”

“Trust me, sweetheart. I’m not gonna let you fall - I promise,” Marcus promises wholeheartedly.

“I know you won’t,” he hears the little catch in your voice as you quietly answer, “Are you ready to let go of my hands? Keep your feet where they are - I’ll use my tummy muscles to keep myself up.”

Gradually unthreading his fingers from yours, Marcus lets go as you lift your chest into the pose. Seeing the shape you’re now in, he starts to hum the Superman theme, “I’m not sure I like these poses - you’re too far away from me and I’m touching even less of you than before,” his bottom lip sticks out in a juicy sulk.

“Oh, you want to be closer?”

“Uh yeah?”

“Ok, put me down,” you request as Marcus sets you mostly gently back onto your feet, “I’m going to help you into a bound angle pose - it’s not tricky and it feels really good as it opens up your pelvis, allowing good blood flow to the area.”

“Hah, certainly don’t have any problem in that area with you around,” Marcus winks at you.

Marcus relaxes his legs in front of him as you bend his knees outwards, placing the soles of his feet together, slowly bringing his heels in towards his groin. He shuffles his bum so that he sits directly on his sit bones, remembering what you’ve nagged him about before.

“You wanted to be close, right?” you check again, “I’m going to put myself between your legs and wrap my feet around your back now.”

“Mmm, this is better,” Marcus shuts his eyes as you settle against him, enjoying the sensation of you weaving your arms around the broad expanse of his back and resting your head against his shoulder. Looping his arms around you, he settles his head into your neck, inhaling the soft floral scent of your perfume. His eyelashes flutter butterfly kisses as his whole body relaxes into you.

Your buttery soft skin begs to be kissed and licked, nuzzled and nibbled. The closeness of your bodies has Marcus feeling giddy and drunk, despite the grounding of the floor beneath him. Focusing on the softness of your breasts pressing into him, he tries to mimic your deep inhalations and exhalations - desperately trying to suck in the air that you’ve just breathed out so that the same air can circulate through his body.

Feeling your hands move, snaking into the dark curls of his hair, Marcus pulls back slightly to gaze into your eyes before he kisses you. Soft, full lips meet yours - kissing you is always a revelation to him, astonishing him and caressing his very soul. Your gentle touches teach him the depths of your love, your intelligence and how you utterly rule him with the tenderness of your tongue.

Clutching you closer to him - as if he could try absorbing your body into his - Marcus holds you tightly, allowing your absolute adoration of him to become the glue that mends the shards of his shattered heart. Slowly bridging the gaps and reconnecting parts that have been trampled by decades of painful love - non reciprocal and undeserving- glueing it, fixing it, rewinding it back to that moment where the only love you are concerned with is that of the unconditional one of your family.

The spinning headiness from the cocktail of safety and vulnerability in the sweetness of your kisses, never fails to sweep Marcus away. Blinking the wetness that has gathered in the corners of his eyes, he draws back, attempting to swallow back the lump that has formed in his throat.

“Hey,” he feels you searching his face for the reason for his tears, enjoying how your thumbs stroke his cheeks, “Are you ok?”

“Sweetheart, ‘m’ok,” he quietly murmurs, leaning forward to brush the dampness of his face into the dark silk of your hair, “I know you’ve said that sometimes yoga makes you open your heart but I didn’t realise how literal that was.”

He loves how much you treasure his openness - never any mocking or roll of the eyes for that. For so many it was always too much - far too intense and seen as needy. Nuzzling into the scent of lazy summer evenings in Provence, he presses sweet kisses into your hair, scratching lightly at your scalp enjoying the small moans of pleasure.

With your foreheads resting lightly -sitting so close that a piece of paper cannot pass between the pair of you - your breathing and heartbeats meet in synchronicity. A slight tilt of your head with the offer of your lips and Marcus is sinking back into you. Lost in taste that is so entirely you -your breakfast of black coffee and bitter marmalade- tantalising his senses.

His hands untangle from the tendrils of your hair to seek out the even softer parts of you, stopping momentarily to stroke the sides of your chest - hitting the underwire of your bra, searching for the softness encased above. Marcus scoops the rounded flesh of your breasts in his bear-like paws as his thumbs search for the sensitive, responsive nubs. He loves how your body keens into his touch - how you naturally deepen the kisses, ladening them with such an intense sensuality that it never ceases to steal the very breath from his lungs.

With a growl into your mouth as you scratch your nails into his back, he feels you arch into his touch making him squeeze your nipples tighter between his gun-calloused thumb and forefinger - a gradually softening memory of his time back in the States.

Entirely confident that you can feel the pleasure that you are bringing him, Marcus grinds his hips further into you - the warmth of your core pressing teasingly against his hardness, making him feral in his need to claim you. A small mirror of his movement from you makes him drop his hands from your breasts and grab the succulent muscle of your bum - the sudden movement making him pull you on top of him, rocking your hips forward, as he lies back between your knees.

Looping his fingers into the glittering elastic of your shorts, he goes to pull them down but is stopped by your gentle grip around his wrists and a small shake of your head, “I want to make you feel good, baby. Let me take care of you.”

Marcus’ eyes roll back as you lean forward, pinning his hands above his head. Every small kiss you press into his skin leaves an imprint on his heart as you place them all the way down the velvety creased forehead, the aquiline arch of his nose and the patchy beard on his chin before licking down his throat. He enjoys the soft path that your breasts trail ahead of the warmth from your mouth, the sensation from the weight of them causing his cock to twitch.

A small flush runs through him as you lift the soft cotton of his t-shirt, a hint of embarrassment at the softness of his tummy. His hands unconsciously move to cover himself up, which in one smooth movement you have back above his head as you lick down his chest, sucking and nibbling each nipple as you edge ever lower to his treasure trail.

Feeling your fingers slide beneath the waistband of his running shorts as your mouth peppers kitten licks and kisses across his Adonis belt, he lifts his hips slightly to allow his shorts and boxers to be lowered. As his cock, which curves slightly to the left, springs free, it hits just beside his tummy button leaving a small bead of pre-cum. Marcus swallows hard, watching as you lap it up without a second thought, your hand wrapping the base of his length guiding the proud tip into the valley between your breasts.

The sensation of his cock being massaged there, encased by the soft pliable flesh, almost makes him explode right then, decorating your skin with a precious pearl necklace. The flicks of your tongue over the tip and gentle tugs of his balls, make Marcus’ mind empty of all thoughts as the surges of pleasure become more and more intense.

Marcus can’t help the guttural groans that escape his lips as you wrap the warm wetness of your mouth around his cock and suck. He holds your hair back from your face so he can watch his inches disappear between your lips. As your mouth, hands and tongue work in harmony together, he knows he won’t last long. The pressure builds and his hips arch up, chasinghis high. He cannot help but fill the morning air with his cries of ecstasy as he fills your mouth with a flood of cum. Pulse after pulse of semen bursts forth as you keep up the deliciously deep pressure around the base of his shaft.

He loves how you still keep his rapidly softening cock in your mouth - an absolute reassurance that there was no rush to come down from his heights of pleasure. Eventually, using the hands Marcus has wrapped around your head, he urges you to slide back up along his body. As you reach eye level with him, he surges forward crashing his lips into yours, unable to say thank you in any other way.

He loves how he can taste himself on your tongue. He loves how your normally relatively organised hair has been ruffled into standing out at mad-scientist angles. He loves the softness in your eyes and how your chest is still rising and falling quickly.

He loves.

He loves you.

Tag list : @yespolkadotkitty @astroboots @green-socks @bison-writes @mouthymandalorian @tardisfangurl @mrsparknuts @danniburgh @absurdthirst @sirowsky @leonieb @disgruntledspacedad @the-ginger-hedge-witch @lunaserenade @agirllovespancakes @zukoyonce @pedropascalito-deactivated20210 @theravenreads @lv7867 @songsformonkeys

With massive thanks as ever to the beauteous @yespolkadotkitty for her betas of my soft core porn ❤️

#pedro pascal #josé pedro balmaceda pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal#ppascaledit #the mentalist #the mentalist fanfic #pedro pascal smut #marcus pike x oc reader #marcus pike x oc #marcus pike #marcus pike x reader #smut

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babyflossy · 4 years ago

Text

twentieth floor | s.jn

pairing; johnny x reader

requested; nope! this is just pure self indulgence

summary; johnny’s office is thankfully high enough off the ground to prevent disclosing your activities to passerbyers, and you love to exercise that privilege.

genre/warnings; smut, kinda dom!johnny but not really, unedited as per, i can’t really remember what exactly is in it but theres’s nothing extreme (slight choking i think, hinted size kink but not really), see y’all in hell ig

word count; 2.5k

if there was one thing you loved more than johnny, it was johnny dressed in a suit. the way the slacks melt around his thighs, the way his shirt emphasises the bulge of his biceps - it did things to you. the clean cut navy material frames his face and accentuates the strong line of his jaw. it was truly irresistible, and your thoughts can rarely stay innocent when you do see him in such clothing.

this is the predicament you find yourself in currently, finding it impossibly hard to look away from the tiny slither of skin that shows as he loosens his tie and pops the top button of his shirt open. it's almost the most inappropriate time to be thinking like this, with a meeting well under way and the stress lines that form whenever he frowns making themselves comfortable on his forehead.

but, alas, with one look at you johnny knows exactly what's going through your mind.

and he smirks.

he does nothing except paint the most irresistible smirk on his face that makes you want to nothing less than walk over to him and forcefully remove it. with your own lips, perhaps. you hope no one else notices the way his eyes narrow at you when you cross and uncross your legs repeatedly just to feel something in your desperation.

ten minutes more pass with you unable to do anything except sip your water and try not to think about the growing ache between your legs, the heat raising in the room. a breeze passes through the blinds and you feel goosebumps raise along the exposed skin of your legs; johnny notices and rubs a warm palm down your thigh in an attempt to combat your coldness. it achieves the opposite of his goal, however, and more goosebumps rise as his hand dips dangerously close to the hem of your skirt.

you can tell your reaction to his touch has not gone undetected and you pout at the way he stares down at you, something darker about his gaze that makes you shiver. despite the other people in the room, you feel yourself lose focus in the meeting, the objective long forgotten as you basically undress your boyfriend with your mind.

the hand still hasn’t moved and you wrap your fingers around his to stop it moving further upwards, not prepared to hide your arousal from a room full of your co-workers. up to now, johnny’s actions have remained out of sight from everyone else, the shiny black table covering your legs completely.

a few more minutes pass of you sitting with bated breath, trying to ignore the presence of the man next to you and simultaneously trying to stop the image of his bending you over the cold surface of the meeting table in his office and pounding you until you scream. the task it impossibly harder than you originally thought, and soon your mind has wandered to johnny fucking you against the floor-length windows spanning the far wall, his tie around your mouth to keep you quiet–

a nudge to your side whips you out of your daydream and you try to ignore the way your cheeks are suddenly burning.

“what do you think?” well, shit.

“hm?”

“what do you think? about the plan?”

for a second your heart stops, unsure of what to say considering you haven’t the faintest clue what the plan is even for. you chance a glimpse at johnny and watch in horror as he just raises his eyebrow in question, clearly enjoying the panic that must be evident on your face.

“well,” you start, not even sure where you’re going, “i, uh– i think it’s a good starting plan.” it comes out as a question and you’re sure your facade is slipping. “could use some improvements, maybe,” you offer timidly, glancing around to see how your co-workers are taking your weak attempt at feigning interest. “i’ll– i’ll, uh, look over it later and get back to you.”

“perfect, thank you.” the relief you feel is outstanding and johnny shoots you an amused smile as you zone back out, letting the chatter be drowned out.

after what feels like hours, but is most likely minutes, people start trickling out of the room until finally only you and johnny are left. for a second neither of you move until he pushes on the table so his chair rolls backwards. without breaking your gaze he stands, walking over to lean on his desk, reaching over to pull at the blinds on his office door. you feel warm pool in the bottom of your stomach when he motions you over with a flick of his fingers.

“well done in the meeting, by the way, you really had some fantastic ideas.” the words would almost sound sincere if they weren’t accompanied by a sarcastic smile on his face.

you stand in front of him, slotting between his legs and resting your hands on his chest to toy with the buttons of his shirt. warm hands wrap around your waist and you lean up to press a light kiss to the space just under his ear lobe. the shiver he fails to suppress makes you smile.

“well, you looked so good i couldn’t concentrate.” you reply, loosening his tie with your fingers and popping open the first few buttons.

“you can’t even last a day without me touching you?” as he says it, he trails his fingers down the side of your face, eyes admiring your features delicately. the way he’s looking at you is so tender you feel a different kind of warmth roll through you, love. “can you, angel?”

“you know i can’t.”

johnny’s hands move from your waist down to your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him. through the material of his slacks you feel the undeniable hardness and look up to see a smirk plastered along his lips again. matching his playful expression, you reach down and start palming him lightly, teasingly. for a second his cockiness slips and you hear the faintest murmur of a moan before his hand wraps around your wrist and pulls it away.

“well, then,” his words have just a faint whisper of their previous power, the soft tone comforting in your ear even with the dirty undertones. “i can’t keep my princess waiting, can i?”

in an instance, you’re flipped over so his body cages you against the desk, the sharp edge digging into the backs of your thighs. his hands are no longer tame and gentle, they skim up your legs and pull the fabric of your skirt with them. when johnny starts kneading the flesh of your ass you let out an involuntary moan that he swallows when his lips meet yours.

there’s nothing sweet about the kiss, only raw and desperate and everything you need right now. he tips your jaw up to deepen it, teeth clashing and noses brushing against each other. you faintly wonder if he remembered to lock the door before realising you don’t actually care, the heat rising between you is enough to push all sensible thoughts out of your head.

one of johnny’s thighs pushes in between your own and you let yourself rest on it, moaning out when the fabric of his suit brushes your most sensitive spots. a look of glee crosses his face at the noise, free hands moving to pull you further down onto his leg to strengthen the feeling. you’ve been on edge for so long that when you experimentally roll your hips onto his leg you can already feel the pit in the bottom of your stomach deepening and the whine you let out tells johnny exactly that.

“my poor baby.” he coos with a devilish smile. “needing me so badly.”

you don’t have time to think as he flips you around so you’re facing the desk, your dress bunching at your waist. johnny slips a hand between you to rub at your clit over your panties and you try to conceal the moan clawing up your throat. when’s he tired of being constricted, he yanks the thin material down your legs and helps you step out of them, his fingers now without a barrier are cold against your core and you shiver.

“fuck, that feels so good,” your words are stuttered and breathless but johnny hears them just fine, setting a strong pace on your clit that has you moaning out too loudly for his office.

“i know baby,” he leans down to whisper in your ear, fingers not letting up. “but you have to be quiet for me, okay?” for a moment he slows the movement of his hands to a standstill until you nod.

to your surprise you feel the fingers of his free hand poking at your mouth and you accept them in without complaint. they cut off your ability to speak and johnny gets no verbal warning of when you tip over the edge, only the shaking of your legs and the strangled noises escaping around his hand.

“feel better?” even without looking at him you can see the cocky smile on his face.

you can feel wetness collecting at the tops of thighs as you clench them together, trying to gather the strength you were stripped of from your orgasm. the metallic clink of a belt only makes you wetter, knowing what comes next and more than excited for it.

within seconds you feel a hand prying your legs open again and the head of his cock slipping between your folds. the air changes and you can almost feel johnny’s demeanor switch as he starts to push into you, hand leaving your mouth only to close around your throat. this is always your favourite part, feeling his attitude drop from the normal sweet johnny to the man that chokes you and calls you his bitch.

to say you were hoping for that now in an understatement.

with nothing blocking your mouth you’re free to moan as load as you want when he finally starts easing himself into you. the delicious burn from the stretch is addicting and you clench around him involuntarily. “what do you say?” johnny asks in your ear, voice so much lower than usual.

“thank you.”

“thank you what?”

“thank you, daddy.”

it’s the final straw he needs before he bottoms out inside you, not waiting a moment for you to adjust to his size before he starts pulling back out. it takes you a few thrusts to get over the sharp stinging but when it dissolves into pleasure you find your mouth dropping open. johnny hits every deep spot inside of you that no one else has, a heavenly feeling when paired with the rough pad of his thumb flicking your clit once again. it’s still sensitive from your first orgasm and in no time you feel another building.

johnny seems to sense this and you whine in annoyance when he pulls out of you, looking behind to glare at him. this only seems to amuse him. “oh, i’m sorry, angel, where you about to come?”

one thing you’ve learnt about johnny over the years is he never asks rhetorical questions, meaning you were expected to answer all of them. he quirks an teasing eyebrow as he waits for your words. “yes, are you happy now?” but your weak anger only serves to amuse him more.

“very.” he purrs in your ear when you turn away, hands gripping your hips and pulling you up from the table. you wonder for a second what he’s doing and feel your inside swirl when he starts walking you towards the window. when you’re close enough you bring your hands up to steady yourself against the cold glass and johnny resumes his place behind you. “this is what wanted, isn’t it?”

finding yourself unable to speak, you simply nod and hope it suffices an answer for him. it seems to as no other words are spoken between you as johnny wraps an arm around you to rest his hand on your abdomen. you know this is one of his favourite things, to feel himself pushing into you through your skin, and you try not to shiver at the coldness of his hand on the bare skin under your skirt.

your eyes follow the cars on the roads 100 metres below, thankful that the height of johnny’s office would make it near impossible for anyone to notice you. it distracts you momentarily until you feel the tip of his cock lining up with your entrance, rubbing up between your folds a few times to collect your wetness. your mouth is caught in a silent scream when he finally does, the feeling again too much.

once again, it takes not much more than a few strokes of johnny’s cock hitting your sweet spot until your legs are shaking. you can feel your heart pounding and your moans are uncontrollable as he presses his hand firmly against you to feel himself slip in and out. you can almost feel the effect it has on him as his hips start stuttering against you, signalling his impending release.

“fuck, daddy,” you can’t help but drive him on, reaching down to cover his hand with your own, leaving one against the smooth pane of glass. he presses a soft kiss to the delicate skin behind your ear in response to the way you curl your fingers around his, a rare moment of tenderness breaking through his dominant exterior.

the contrast has your head spinning and you let yourself fall over the edge to the dirty words he whispers in your ear, back arching and eyes screwing shut. the sight of you coming undone around him, so exposed where anyone walking on the street could see you has johnny falling apart seconds later, hips faltering as he releases into you.

there’s a few seconds of heavy breathing and calm as you both try and come down from your highs, chests heaving. you pull your skirt down after he pulls out of you, spinning to lean against the window and throwing him a lazy smile, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling of his cum starting to spill down your legs.

“i love you.” he murmurs into the air between you before kissing you, hands suddenly gentle and loving.

“mmh,” you hum in acknowledgment, happily watching the dramatic scowl paint his features. “i love you, too.” the smile is instant. “even if you drip cum over my work clothes, you idiot.”

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cxsmicmyeon · 4 years ago

Text

HURT ; KJM [M]

kim junmyeon x fem! reader

IN WHICH you bring to light your insecurities and doubts about your new relationship to your boyfriend and the response is nothing if not tender and caring.

genre: non-idol au! angst with comfort, fluff and smut word count: 2.2k warnings: mentions of anxiety and past relationship trauma, explicit sexual content, body worship, PRAISE, porn with a lot of feelings, jun being the best lover and the sweetest thing🥺

author’s note: i combined two requests from two anons (aaa happy to get them for my ult!!), hope u both enjoy!! <3 this entire concept really hits close to home because both of my past relationships have been with toxic people who are similar to how the reader’s exes are (one more than the other but toxic nonetheless). i do resonate and understand the reader’s perspective in this since i too still deal with trauma from my past relationships and i have felt insecure about dealing with these issues, so i wrote jun to be as understanding as possible and how i would want him to handle this.

You waited in front of the restaurant where your latest date was for your boyfriend, Junmyeon, to bring his car over. Tonight was your fifth date with him, and this, as well as the previous four, had gone very well so far. He was nothing but great: being a perfect gentleman, sharing your strange sense of humor, you name it. Each night, he’d bring you home and leave with a lingering kiss, which always left both of you wanting more. Tonight was the night where you were going to try and get more.

Junmyeon pulled up in front of the restaurant, parking in front of the curb. As you began walking toward the passenger side, he rushed out of the car, stumbling a bit as he opened the door for you.

“Jun, I could have gotten it.” you whined, giving him a mini pout.

“I know I know, but I wanted to get it for you.” Junmyeon responded, lifting your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss onto the skin. You shivered at the contact, blushing as you entered the navy blue Maserati. He shut the door before going back to the driver’s side.

‘Ah, why is he so sweet?’ you thought to yourself as Junmyeon started the car. He toyed with the radio for a bit before settling on some popular pop song that you both knew the lyrics to. You giggled to yourself as he began to belt the lyrics in a rather loud falsetto. How he managed to still sound like an angel was beyond you.

Soon after, Junmyeon pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. The two of you exited the car and made your way to the entrance of the building, taking in the scenery of the night sky.

On the elevator ride to his penthouse, the two of you were mostly silent apart from a few kisses stolen here and there. When you got to the apartment, Junmyeon pulled you to the couch and pressed his lips onto yours as soon as you sat down. The kiss started off gentle but soon grew heated. You entangled your fingers through his luscious chocolate-brown hair as he pulled you closer to him, hands resting on the small of your back.

Junmyeon bit down on your bottom lip and tugged a bit, causing you to gasp in surprise and pleasure. He took the opportunity to shove his tongue inside of your mouth, clashing with yours. You tugged at his hair, softly moaning out as you continued to kiss him. You felt his hands slip under your shirt, tracing patterns into the soft skin of your stomach. You initially welcomed the contact, naturally, but soon enough, it got too much for you. Instinctively, you pulled away from him and wrapped your arms around your stomach, looking down at your shoes.

You swore to yourself that you were ready to take this next step with Junmyeon. And consistently you’d assure yourself that he would not be like them after taking this step. You were so sure of it. So why, oh why did you pull away?

“Y/N? I’m so sorry, I should have asked you if you were okay with that. I... I got a bit carried away and I should not have done that,” Junmyeon shifted closer to you and placed a hand between you and him. “Please don’t push yourself to do anything that you’re uncomfortable with. If you want to go home or do something else, please don’t hesitate to tell me.”

You didn’t reply for a moment, opting to interlock your pinky with his. Taking in a deep breath, you asked him: “Do you mind if I get this off my chest?” After hearing a hum of approval from him, you braced yourself and took in a deep breath.

You opened up about your past experiences with partners. While you haven’t had many, they still shared one toxic trait that you were desperate to get away from. The only connection you had with them was sexual. They never contacted you for any other reason.

“It’s like I only existed for their genitals to get wet and so they could get off. They didn’t give a shit about everything else about me. I really liked them at those times and wanted to actually and genuinely get to know them through real, non-sexual dates. But my efforts proved futile. Each attempt I made at actually having a real human connection ended in yet another faked orgasm.”

“You... I know we met at that shitty fast food place that I work at. You showed up in your suit dressed as if you were on your way to a wedding and asked for a black coffee and an order of hashbrowns. And every day for two weeks you came back and ordered the same thing. Until one day you ordered a third thing.”

“A date with me...” Jun whispered, wrapping an arm around you.

“Yeah, and I thought it was the silliest yet sweetest way to ask me out. And after our first date, I knew that you weren’t gonna be like them. You actually gave off the vibe that you legitimately gave a shit about me and you didn’t want to bed me at the end of the night and leave the next morning.”

“And... I really really appreciate that you’re actually taking the time to know me. And I did want to... y’know. But I don’t even know why I even pushed you away. I know you’re not like the others. I know that. But...” You let out a loud sob as you covered your face with your hands. More sobs racked your body as you leaned into Junmyeon’s embrace, your head becoming clouded with anxious thoughts.

After what seemed like an eternity to you, you felt yourself calm down. In a strange yet gratifying way, letting yourself express your traumas and pain proved somewhat of a relief to you. After everything being pent up internally for so long, you felt more at peace with what happened and, in a way, let it go. Wiping your tears, you turned to Junmyeon and gave him a weak smile. He returned your smile, rubbing your arm and placing a kiss onto your temple.

“Are you feeling better?” you gave him a nod, taking a short breath. “Good,” he took your face into his hands, wiping a lone tear that almost dared to escape. “Please don’t feel pressured to do anything that you don’t want to do. If you aren’t ready for anything tonight, that’s completely okay. I... I really like you. And I don’t want you to think that you have to have sex with me right now, you can call the shots and let me know when you’re ready.”

You rested your forehead on his, noses touching as you pressed your lips onto his lightly. “I promise you, I am ready to do this with you. I just... I honestly don’t know why I freaked out before. If I do again... do you mind if we do stop?”

“Of course not.”

“Okay. Then I’m ready.”

“Lead the way, love.”

At that, you cupped Junmyeon’s face into your hands and pressed your lips to his. He kissed back, wrapping his arms around your waist, bringing you to straddle him. Your lips never left each other as Junmyeon stood and carried you to his bedroom. He placed you down onto his bed, breaking the kiss as he gazed at you with hooded eyes. You reached over and grabbed his wrists, guiding his hands to the hem of your shirt. After receiving a nod of approval from you, he pulled your shirt over your head and tossed it onto the floor, revealing a lacy black bralette.

“So beautiful.” he muttered, toying with the straps of the material hugging your chest. He slipped the straps down your shoulders and pulled the bralette over your head, allowing your breasts to be revealed. He gasped softly, trailing a finger down your sternum, fingertips barely grazing your left breast. Immediately you craved his touch, a chill of pleasure being sent down your spine.

“Touch me.” you pleaded. Junmyeon nodded before taking both of your breasts into his hands and squeezing them. He removed his left hand and lowered his head into your chest and wrapped his mouth around your perked nipple. You gasped out as he swirled his tongue around the bud while squeezing the plump flesh of your other breast. Releasing your nipple with a soft pop, he began to trail kisses all over your chest, quickly moving up to your neck and then your lips. You kissed him once before resting your hands at the hem of his shirt.

“You can take it off.” Junmyeon breathed out, pressing his lips onto yours. You complied, trailing your hands up his chest and to the top of his collared shirt. Gazing at him with lust in your eyes, you slowly unbuttoned the first button. With each button you freed from its confines, you kissed down his chest. You slipped his shirt off of his shoulders once all of the buttons were unbuttoned, licking a stripe up his chest.

“God, you do that so well, baby. You’re so beautiful.” Your panties immediately became soaked at his praise. You met his eyes and leaned in to kiss him again, the feel of his bare chest against yours setting your entire body ablaze from a singular touch. His hands made their way down to your ass, squeezing the flesh as you moved to straddle him. You moved your hips in a downward motion, feeling Junmyeon’s hardening cock through his pants. He thrust upwards, causing you to moan in his mouth.

You broke the kiss, breath hitching as Junmyeon moved to remove your skirt. He pulled the material down your legs and let it fall to the floor, revealing a matching pair of lacy black panties.

“You really went all out, huh?” Junmyeon teased, pecking you on the lips. You playfully rolled your eyes, pinching his cheek. He placed his hands on your thighs, tracing indistinct patterns all over the skin before lowering himself down to pepper kisses on your thighs, spreading your legs so he was eye-level with your clothed core.

“You are so beautiful,” He hooked his thumbs through your panty line and slid them down your legs. You blushed and covered your face with your hands, feeling your arousal drip down onto the bed. He removed your hands from your face and kissed you with utmost passion before motioning for you to take off his pants.

You ran a finger down his chiseled chest before resting your hands at the buckle of his belt. “We’ll save this for another time.” you joked before unbuckling the belt and placing it next to your discarded clothes.

“Kinky, are we?” Junmyeon returned as you unbuttoned and unzipped his slacks.

“You’ll just have to find out.” You reached your hand inside of his briefs and palmed his cock before sliding the underwear and his slacks down his legs and pushing them to the floor.

“Can’t wait to- Ohhh....” Junmyeon moaned out as you began to stroke him to full hardness, collecting drops of precum from his tip onto your thumb. You let go of his cock and wrapped your lips around your thumb, sucking his arousal off of your finger. “Fuck, (Y/N). Ride me. Please.”

“God... I will.”

You crawled onto the bed, hovering over Junmyeon. He placed both hands at your hips and guided you down onto his cock. Both of you gasped out at the new sensation as he filled you oh so deliciously. You began moving up and down, relishing in the feeling of being wrapped around Junmyeon’s cock. His hands never left your hips as you bounced on his cock.

“Fuck, you look so pretty like this, sweetheart. So so pretty.” You moaned out, placing your palms on Junmyeon’s pecs as you brought yourself closer to your orgasm. His hands moved to your ass, lifting and squeezing the skin. His thumb made its way to your clit. The sensation of him rubbing the sensitive bud added to your pleasure tenfold.

“Jun, I’m close.” you whimpered as he thrust upward. You dug your nails into his chest, screaming his name as you clenched down on his cock, an earth-shattering orgasm washing over you. It wasn’t too long until Junmyeon spilled inside of you, panting heavily as you pulled yourself off of his cock.

You laid next to your lover and covered your eyes with your sweaty forearm, still shaking from your previous orgasm.

“Now that... that was the best sex I have ever had.” You sighed, turning on your side so you were facing Junmyeon. He chuckled softly as he moved a stray hair from your face, kissing you on the forehead.

“I’m gonna go take a shower okay, love?” Junmyeon kissed you on the forehead and went to get up. You grabbed his forearm, causing him to stop in his tracks.

“Mind if I join you?”

“Not at all.” He scooped you into his arms and carried you into the connected bathroom.

Oh, you were in for a good night.

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blue-bird-kny · 4 years ago

Text

How You Spend Days Off

I stuck to only the three main peeps, but I’m looking forward to writing for more JJK characters. It was actually really nice to write for them, so I hope you enjoy~Amanda

P.S: Be safe out after dark!

Warning: N/A

( 2.1K+ words)

↳{shenanigans you and your S/O get up to on days off}

Yuji:

Days off with Yuji are unpredictable and always either involve something thrilling and very energy consuming or it can be some of the simplest things a person can do- no in between.

Yuji usually is the one who makes plans during your spare time (though he always gets your opinion, of course), he just really values time with you and wants to experience so much together while he can

It was common knowledge that this coming Friday, all the students would have the time off to rest as a reward for all their hard work with the recent influx of curse activity. Yuji wasted no time in planning the perfect day together, from the moment you woke up next to him to when you both fell asleep, he had something ready.

“Ah that was delicious Yuji, thank you” you cheered, arms stretched high above your head in an attempt to work away the sleepiness the food had made you feel. “No problem! Only the best for you, princess” Yuji’s smile reached past his shining eyes, thrilled you enjoyed the assortment of plates and bowls filled with your breakfast favorites he’d surprised you with. “Well then, my prince, to what honor do I owe your company today?” you asked leaning against your balled fist and bent elbow on the table, amusement and adoration laced on all your features. “For one day only, yours truly scored us tickets to…! Drum roll please!” Yuji posed dramatically, eyes cast down while crouched and pointing in a funny manner.

You proceeded to bang your fist against the table, laughing lightly, “We’re going to spend all day at Monster Con!” he pulled out two floppy pieces of paper from his back pocket as you gasped, “Oh I’m not finished yet, princess, we’ll also be wearing matching costumes I hand selected” You stood quickly, clapping at his theatrical performance as he bowed, repeating, “Thank you, thank you”. You made your way to infront of the boy, your arms wrapping around his broad shoulders while he enveloped your waist tightly, pressing you against him. “Not going dressed as your pesky alter ego, huh?” you joked staring up at the taller kid, earning you a slight pout, “No, he’s not invited” he grumbled. “Sorry, that joke was in poor taste” you apologized, shifting to run your thumb along his juted bottom lip to smooth out the lines.

“No worries, I know ya didn’t mean anything by it” your hand stayed cupping his cheek, both star-filled eyes trained on each other as you both wore the cheesiest grins. Just as you stood on your tip-toes to close the space between each other, a warm gust of breath blew against the palm holding Yuji still, “I was wondering why you hadn’t spoiled the moment” you sighed, lowering yourself to lean your forehead against Yuji’s chest instead. A small mouth carved into its host cheek frowned, now free to speak without your hand suffocating it, “I can handle the women’s teasing, however what have I done in my many lifetimes to have to suffer through this painful love-sick puppies act” Sukuna complained. “Many things actually” you responded, muffled by Yuji’s shirt that smelled of a citrusy-warm blend you couldn’t get enough of. “Why do you always kill the mood?” Yuji groaned up towards the ceiling, earning himself a scoff from the demon king. “Oh? You mean like that I wouldn’t let y-” “SHUT UP!” Yuji slammed his hand against his own face to silence the man, his cheeks inflamed.

Now clad in matching costumes, you as frankenstein's wife and Yuji as Frankenstein, from the hair to the clothes to the make-up, you both spent the day without any further hiccups; how Yuji kept Sukuna at bay, you didn’t know, but I didn’t really matter. The stares from passengers on the train to the convention center was obvious to everyone but you two, lost in your own little love-sick world of old-fashion horror movies, delicious food, and pure, unfiltered content.

Megumi:

Megumi is a simple guy who likes simple things; he’s overworked and more exhausted than he even realizes, however he doesn’t acknowledge that...ever. In fact, you could run a mile ‘too quickly’ by his standards and he will have you take a break and drink his bottle of water (though you had your own and he knew that).

On your rare days off together, Megumi would silently stick to you like glue; he wants to do something for you in the creative way Yuji does and definitely wants to spend the time with you, but he can never come up with a complete idea of how to ‘wow’ you.

Except you didn’t need to be wowed, in fact you really were burnt out, so when the day came when you had nothing to do but be together, you planned a whole day of nothing with a side of Netflix and take-out.

You knocked on the door to Megumi’s dorm that was just a few paces away from your own. It was almost noon and you still wore your pj’s from last night, cookie monster shorts and an old shirt of Megumi’s you took last week, having made no attempt to fix your hair. “Umi~!” you whined, banging on the door a little harder, the plastic bag from the convenience store rustling at your side. “Coming” Megumi opened the door in a similar state; pj’s still on and hair sticking in even weirder directions than normal.

“Mornin” you greeted with the faintest grin, “sorry to wake you” “ I was just getting up” he yawned while he tried to rub the sleep from his eyes. “Sure I can tell by the bed head” you teased, earning a playful eye roll from the boy. You waved the bag of goodies in front of his face, “Let me in, I’ll make it worth your while~” he chuckled, “I doubt it” despite his words he stood to the side, letting you past and closing the door behind you.

His dorm was dark and a little stuffy, clearly Megumi hadn’t had time to do the in depth cleaning the little neat-freak was so fond of. The continents of the bag clacked together and scattered around as you tossed it onto the small table in the corner, making your way over to his comfortable futon that smelled of his signature eucalyptus soaps. You flopped about for a moment, stretching, snuggling into the sheets still warm from Megumi, who was watching the small scene from the door, “C’mon Umi’ I wanna get through at least two episodes of SVU before we inevitably fall asleep wrapped in each others arms” you called dreamily with lidded eyes, already tired again as you buried beneath his sheets and pillows.

Megumi could feel his chest ache and stomach flutter at the image of the one who he cared for so much that it physically hurt laying there in his bed with soft, kind eyes just for him- it was almost too much. “Umi, I will eat all the sour snakes if you don’t come over here, your sheets are getting cold” Megumi was cut off by his own thoughts of admiration by your voice. He chuckled at the cute way your face cringed a bit at the sour-sweet taste of the candy before sliding into bed too, your head laying on his chest as he held you close. A small, genuine grin spread across his lips as the sound of Netflix starting rang from the TV, holding you even tighter, ‘this is perfect’

Nobara

Be ready to put on your best dressed because you and your girlfriend are hitting the town! Of course Nobara would find her way into the city whenever she could, foreign to the endless wonders the busy streets had to offer and luckily for her, you happened to be far more native with the many sights to see.

She’d let you sleep in, holding you tender as she traced her nails across your skin to form intricate patterns until you woke. You both would totally be the couple that wears matching outfits, the same colors and patterns tailored to your personal styles- of course this would also lead to thousands of pictures for Nobara’s instagram.

You two would laughed, eat delicious foods, and would spend way more than either of you cared to admit nor did you want to because the price of absurd, unfiltered laughter and the feel of just a good time, was one both of you could pay a thousand times (and a new pair of shoes too)

The sun hung lower in the sky than it did when you started this little adventure before noon, having been sold on the idea by Nobara that she “only needed a few things” this morning. Now, exhausted perched on a steel chair outside some cafe you’d never heard of with your sore feet elevated on the other empty one you waited for your girlfriend who was inside somewhere.

“Jeez even my fingers are cramped” you groaned flexing your numb digits; shopping was a grueling vice because no matter how much you’ve already bought, more cute sweaters, tops, and matching accessories called to you by name and the art of saying ‘no’ wasn’t exactly in Ms.Kugisaki’s vocabulary. “Here ya’ go babe” Nobara emerged from the shop with two cups, handing one to you before sipping gingerly from her own. You brought the plastic straw to your lips, sighing in relief as the contents quelled a thirst you didn’t even know had been building up. “I don’t think we did too much damage” your face fell and eyes bulged, flailing your arms out around at the brightly colored parcels that littered the table and surrounding floor, “Nobara there are at least fifteen bags here”

She laughed, her hand falling on top of your thigh, giving a gentle squeeze, “Still no that bad”. She scooched her chair closer to yours, her thumb rubbing nonsense circles into the denim of your jeans, “What next?” she asked leaning into her seat, her brown irises watching yours fondly, “Food? We haven’t eaten since a lot earlier and I could turn into a wolf any second and eat you” you teased, though food sounded better and better the more you thought about it. “Eat me? You promise, baby?” Nobara’s smirk earned herself a not-so-graceful, but light kick from you.

“An impromptu picnic sounds great” Nobara decided, tapping against you in finality. It became a game: You both had 30 minutes to run around the delicious food district to pick out each other's favorites, as many as you liked (which would be more food than two can eat), then you’d reconvene at the same cafe. Nobara offered to pick up a blanket at the convenience store because she ‘knew you so well she wouldn’t need the whole half hour.’ The game was on and time was ticking as you both rushed in opposite directions with several bags and a hunger to please the other.

You scurred around each vendor, selecting different meat dishes and veggies, cakes and watermelon, and even splurged on some fancy sushi from the place she'd wanted to try. Your arms quivered under the weight of the many shopping bags and take-out boxes, but you were determined to get back first. “Just around the corner- Are you kidding me?!” you yelled. In the exact steel seat she sat in earlier, was Nobara with an array of bags around her, boxes and the blanket stacked neatly on the table with dark sunglasses adorning her face and her legs crossed cockily as she spoke smoothly, “Beat ya”

Both of you grossly overestimated the amount of food you could eat in one sitting as practically unopened boxes lay stacked on top one another on the blankets while watermelon rinds and used plates were thrown into a garbage bag. The sun was low, almost at the horizon, painting the sky in pastel oranges and pinks with hints of purple and blue; the spring chill had blown a little heavier now that the sun was setting and it was getting harder to stop the shivers. Nobara laid against the trunk of a tree with you between her legs, holding you as her manicured fingers idly massaged your scalp quietly- you would have fallen asleep at the small gesture had you not been actively keeping your eyes open. “The boys will be grateful for the food, I’d hate wasting it” she yawned to which you only hummed.

“Hey” you turned your head up slightly, only enough to meet her gaze, “today was really fun” she smiled, slithering across your arm to grab your cheeks gently in her fingers, forcing your lips to pucker, “yeah it was.” Your wobbly smile made Nobara feel things, too many things at once, and a lump began to form in her throat, “I love you” you mumbled, Nobara’s breath caught for only a moment, whispering a thick “me too.”

Masterlist

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x y/n #megumi x reader #nobara x y/n #nobara x reader #yuji x y/n #yuji x reader #megumi x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff

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moonbeambucky · 5 years ago

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Hey Neighbor (Part 22)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Peter Quill x Reader Word Count: 3377 Warnings: fluff, angst

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: I’m not going to lie, you’re going to be mad for a while. Feedback is always appreciated!

HEY NEIGHBOR PART 21 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

If you told yourself that after what happened Bucky you would be smiling and laughing more than ever before you would have called yourself crazy. At one point it felt like you would never be happy again and then you met Peter.

Peter was the sun that shined brightly pushing the clouds away. You went on a few more dates, texted everyday and found that there was no longer room in your mind for sadness. Bucky was the past and though you didn’t want to be friends at the moment you didn’t hate him as much as you had before.

“Ooh flowers! Someone must really like you,” Mr. Lee said, smiling from the security booth.

You smiled walking over to him, setting down the large vase with the gorgeously arranged bouquet Peter had delivered to your office.

“I think he really does,” you beamed, thinking about how sweet Peter has been.

Sure it’s still very new but you really like him and can’t wait to spend the weekend together. He had both days off and it was so tempting to call out of your internship. If you hadn’t taken off last weekend for the stupid wedding you would have, but you know that you can’t.

Steve finally hangs up the call he was on, and you didn’t miss his tight lipped grimace and the way he eyed the flowers as if they had wronged him personally.

“If you’re happy with Peter I’m happy for you but you really need to let Bucky explain.”

Your eyes flared with a flash of rage wondering if Steve betrayed your trust and spoke to Bucky and on top of that you were really tired of people telling you what they think you need to do. You bite your tongue, not wanting to berate Steve in front of Mr. Lee with the variety of colorful words that were swirling in your mind.

Instead you replied calmly with only the teeniest hint of sass in your voice, “Steve, there’s nothing to explain and I don’t care.” You wished Stan a good weekend, grabbed the flowers and walked out.

Steve knows you’re lying, that despite what you said you’re still hurt, he just wished you weren't so stubborn about admitting it.

Laughter filled the air in Peter’s apartment as the two of you danced in his living room, the lively music from his “Awesome Mix Vol. 1” playlist bouncing off the walls. Groot lays across the couch watching as Peter’s other pet, Rocket, a ferret with raccoon coloring thanks to the dark mask around his eyes, tries to unhook the latch of his cage.

Life has been so much happier with Peter in it. You love snuggling up next to him, petting Groot who insisted his head stay in your lap as you watched a movie together. Peter’s lips press a gentle kiss on your forehead, stirring you from the sleep you had nearly given in to. A tender smile spreads across your face as you look up to him, reaching forward to kiss him. A surge of desire ignited your senses, leaving you and Peter to some heavy petting that did not involve Groot.

The following Friday night you and Peter were eating at his place, trying your best to ignore poor Groot who whimpered beside the table. Steam was rising from the fresh pizza that sat on the table and as appetizing as it looked your stomach couldn’t help but twist with a little guilt. But pizza wasn’t something exclusive to Bucky, that’s silly. You could have pizza– it’s food, it’s fine. You shook off the thoughts.

Groot’s eyes followed the slice in hand to your mouths, gruffly barking in frustration because he wanted some.

“Down,” Peter commanded after Groot pawed at him.

You gave the dog a sympathetic smile, feeling bad as you continued to eat. Your eyes shifted towards your screen that lit up with a message from Wanda, wondering if you were going to make it tonight. You hadn’t hung out with everyone in a long time, spending whatever days Peter had off together. And then there was the fact of really not wanting to run into a certain someone, but Wanda assured you Bucky was not there.

It would be nice to introduce Peter to everyone, maybe Steve could change his attitude if he met the man that made your cheeks ache from smiling so much.

“My friends are all hanging out at a bar right now and invited me so, I don’t know if it’s too early for this but if you maybe wanted to come with me?” You cringed at yourself, realizing how you unconfidently rambled on.

“Sure kitten, I’d love to meet your friends.”

“Really?” You bit your bottom lip, smiling widely as Peter’s hand reached over to caress your cheek.

“I’d do anything for you.” The light sparkled in his eyes as he stared at yours, dropping his gaze to your lips and gradually back up again.

You would have texted Wanda back if your fingers hadn’t carded through Peter’s hair, your lips on his as he lifted you up, your thighs wrapping around him as he carried you to the bedroom. An unwatched table left Groot alone, happy to steal a slice for himself.

The night air was cool on your hot skin, still a little sweaty after your romp with Peter. You wondered if the smell of sex lingered on you, walking towards the bar together and stopping every few paces because Peter couldn’t keep his hands off you. With his arms around your waist he pulled you close to him, the metal gate of a closed store clanging as he leaned against it to capture your lips.

You were all smiles by the time you walked into the bar, hand in hand with Peter. Your eyes lit up when you spotted Steve and Clint, with Peggy and Natasha being revealed the closer you got to the table. You saw the back of Wanda’s head and were about to call out for her but your voice died in your throat as you spotted two familiar faces.

Bucky, and with him was that woman, Claire.

Your lips press tightly as you stare at her. Looks like Bucky kept his date after all, adding another fuck buddy to his mix since you left.

“Hey Y/N! Glad you could make it!” Sam waved you over.

Wanda whipped her head around, her brows raising with concern. With the squeeze of Peter’s hand against yours you put on a smile. Sam was the first to get up and introduce himself but you took over, introducing Peter to everyone including Bucky and the woman whose name you pretended you forgot.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” Wanda said, smiling tensely.

She grabbed your arm before you had a chance to stop her, pulling you into the women’s room.

Her hands balled into tight fists that she shook in frustration. “I wish you told me you were coming. I thought you didn’t answer because you weren’t and Bucky only showed up like twenty minutes ago but if I knew I would have– ”

“Wanda, I don’t care.” She studied your smile, looking for cracks in the facade she knew you had to be wearing.

“Uh huh, okay.” She rolled her eyes not believing you. “It’s barely been three weeks and you’re telling me that you don’t care? That’s bullshit Y/N and you know it.”

“Wanda, I mean it!” you snapped. “Bucky and I had sex– that’s it!” The cutting motion of your hand emphasized your words. “I’m with Peter now and I’m happy so you need to drop it, okay?”

You pulled the handle of the door roughly, wanting to quickly get back to Peter. A smile graced his face with everyone’s eyes on him. You slid in next to him, catching the tail end of a question Clint had asked.

“Hmmm craziest story. Well there was a time we got called to an apartment in Queens because this kid had a Q-tip stuck in his ear.”

Everyone wore a look of confusion that only grew the more Peter spoke.

“It was this high school kid with his buddy and one of ‘em thought a spider crawled in his ear. So apparently they were trying to shake it out but it wasn’t working so the other thought they could dig it out with a Q-tip but he pushed a little too far and panicked, thinking it was stuck in his brain.”

“And what happened?” Peggy asked.

“The EMT’s were able to remove the Q-tip but the whole time the kid was freaking out, saying he could feel the spider biting him in his ear but they didn’t see anything.”

Claire spoke up, not that you wanted her to. “That’s why I always advise patients not to stick anything in their ears.” Whatever miss know-it-all, I’m sure Sam would say the same thing too.

“But the weirdest thing is that a week later I saw this same kid walking by the station so I ran out to see how he was doing. He turned down an alley and then he was gone, disappeared outta nowhere. So I look up…” Peter paused, making eye contact with everyone before finishing, “... and he’s climbing up the walls– like a spider!”

Everyone burst into a fit of laughter and Peter admitted the first half of the story was true. He wrapped his arm around you, proud to have seemingly won over your friends’ approval. Most of them at least. You tried not to make eye contact with Bucky but it was hard. You felt his gaze burn deeper with every sign of affection Peter showed, and anytime you happened to give in and catch his eyes you felt your upper lip tremble.

But this was fine. The chapter in your life with Bucky is over. It wasn’t even a chapter really, it was a short story, a few lines of prose and it’s over. This is fine.

This is fine...

It took a while to fall asleep that night. Even though your body was desperate to rest after another an amazing round of sex with Peter your mind could not shut off. You were thinking of Bucky and the emotion that poured through his eyes, the tense line solidified in his lips. Was he upset with you? He couldn’t be. You haven’t done anything wrong. You weren’t the one that fed him lies and played with his heart like a game, tossing it aside for a shinier toy. No. If Bucky is upset that’s all on him, because he let you go and not the other way around.

In the early morning you and Peter walked with Groot until you went separate ways, the two of them heading to the station to begin Peter’s shift and you headed home. You didn’t bother sneaking in like you had before. If Bucky heard you then whatever, you don’t care, but you don’t want to speak to him.

Last night had been very awkward, having not said a word to each other. You’re not sure if anyone who wasn’t aware of the situation realized there was tension, though Natasha had given you a curious look when you said goodbye. If she didn’t know she probably suspected and you’re fairly certain you’ll be under interrogation soon.

You couldn’t help but wonder if Bucky was under the same scrutiny. His mom was still tagging you on Facebook posts, a mix of funny animal videos and “mom approved” memes. Does she know what happened? Probably, considering the Fourth of July is coming up and she hasn’t extended a barbecue invitation. Does she know about Claire? So far you hadn’t seen Claire Temple on her friends list.

Yes, you stalked her through Bucky’s Instagram. It’s not a big deal, you just wanted a little more information about who she was.

Claire Temple Compassionate Helper 👩🏽‍⚕️ Avid Runner 🏃🏽‍♀️ Coffee Addict ☕

Scrolling through her photos you learned she is a nurse and (after having a minor heart attack) you learned she used to work at Metro-General. She doesn’t post much, a few pictures of the sun setting between the skyscrapers or graffiti on the side of the building; typical aesthetic pictures. But sprinkled in between those were pictures of her with people; colleagues from her new job at Sacred Saints, smiling as her arms barely wrapped around a brick of a man; her brightly colored sleeves popping against the umber of his skin. She grinned from ear to ear with him, ex-boyfriend perhaps?

Stop stalking her Y/N, stop it now!

You exit her profile, vowing not to look again though you’re not sure how much you trust yourself to keep that promise. But then again Claire was just one of many people that Bucky was sleeping with, so unless she was insanely clingy you didn’t think she’d be flaunting a picture of a guy she knew she didn’t have a chance with.

Besides none of this mattered anyway. Even if Winnie invited you to a barbecue you wouldn’t have been able to go because the Fourth of July happens to be Steve’s birthday and everyone was getting together to celebrate.

Luckily Peter had off the whole weekend and you were so happy he was coming with you. He looked very handsome in his FDNY shirt with casual shorts that showed off his thick calves while you stuck with a mostly red, white and blue theme, breaking out your red converse again with jean shorts and a blue tank top with stars on it.

In the late afternoon you boarded a crowded train to Brooklyn where Peggy’s friend Carol was happy to host a party to celebrate America and America’s ass. Apparently that was her nickname for Steve, teasing him with it because she knows how red he turns when he hears it.

Steve and Carol became close because of Peggy and though she seemed a little reserved at times you could tell they had broken the ice with each other. You met Carol before, seeing her at Steve’s apartment, and with her girlfriend Val when everyone went out for Peggy’s birthday a few months back. Carol lived in a building right off the water in Brooklyn Heights and had the perfect view for fireworks.

Hand in hand you and Peter walked down a lively street with kids riding their bicycles past you, and rhythmic music flowing from open windows. You were buzzed into the building, climbing up a hefty flight of stairs before reaching Carol’s apartment.

Val opened the door, her face lighting up as she threw her arms around you. There was barely a moment to admire the white stars painted around the eyes of her light brown skin as she introduced herself to Peter, catching him off guard in a welcoming hug before inviting you both in.

“Can I get you guys something to drink?” she asked, gesturing to the assortment that filled the kitchen counter, various bottles of soda and seltzer, beers, bottles of liquor. “Firecracker jello shot?” she offered, holding out a tray of them.

“I think I’ll say hi to everyone first, thanks,” you replied, making your way into the living room.

Steve was staring at the view from the window, setting the beer down from his hand when he heard you call his name.

“Happy Birthday!” you greeted, hugging him tightly. “What’s this?” You smirked, pointing to his jaw as he and Peter were saying hello. “Too lazy to shave on your birthday?”

Steve ran his fingers along the beginnings of a scratchy beard. “I think I’m growing it out.”

“I wonder what Peggy thinks… Peggy!” you turned to shout for her, seeing her on the other side of the room with Carol.

You said hello to them, meeting a few of Carol’s friends along the way. Soon more of your friends showed up and you were having a great time until Bucky and Claire walked through the door. You were the closest one to the entrance, wishing you had Peter by your side to distract you but he had been caught up in a conversation with Carol about her time as an Air Force pilot.

“Uh hey Y/N,” Bucky spoke, your name a foreign word on his tongue, “Happy Fourth.”

It was probably because of the fact that you were on the spot, with all eyes on you as Sam shouted for Bucky, that he leaned in to give you a half hug. Your palms didn’t quite make it up to return the favor. His touch reminded you of the ways he had you crying out his name, but now you shivered because it all felt wrong. Claire actually hugged you though she was a little hesitant, unsure if meeting you once constituted a greeting like this.

You made your way back to the living room, uneasy and in need of a distraction, not finding that in Peter who was still deep in conversation. Clint’s gaze caught you from the opposite side of the room, and he signed asking if you were bored. You shook your head, forcing a smile and signed back, “Not with you here.”

Clint strode over, grabbing a handful of chips first before he stopped beside you. You hadn’t seen him that much so it was nice to catch up a little. He was so happy the school year was over, hoping now he and Natasha might have some time to actually plan their wedding.

“Speaking of couples, it’s weird to see that, right?” He nudged his chin towards Bucky and Claire.

“What’s weird?” You’ve seen Bucky’s fuck buddies before, that girl Dot tried to weasel her way into hanging out with everyone on St. Patrick’s Day but at least Bucky had the common sense to spare you all.

“Bucky. That he actually settled down. Who would’ve thought?”

Clint chomped on chips as your mind spiraled into panic. You tried to control the tremble of your voice as you asked for more details, finding out Bucky actually decided to date Claire. Bucky Barnes. The man that’s fucked more people than the American healthcare system was actually, seriously, honestly in a committed relationship.

Your heart pounded in your chest, overwhelmed by this knowledge that has you on the edge of screaming at the top of your lungs and bursting into tears. Your feet took you straight to Val, not having to do much convincing to get her to do a jello shot (or three) with you. It seemed she had sampled a lot already herself and you wanted to feel just as loose.

She wooed loudly, grabbing some patriotic tinsel that decorated the table and placing a bunch first behind your ear and then hers. She stumbled a little bit but you caught her, both of you laughing as you helped her stand somewhat upright, fixing the metal necklace engraved with some sort of Norse symbol from around her neck.

With a bit of booze in you things didn’t seem so bad, except for walking down the stairs, that wasn’t the best idea, but by the end of the night that’s what everyone did. Carol’s apartment was on a dead end street that led right into the entrance of a pedestrian walkway that stretched out above the highway. It had perfect views of Manhattan, the Brooklyn Bridge and the beautiful booming fireworks display.

Peter stood behind you the whole time, his arms around your waist, face nestled in your neck pressing a kiss that made you squirm in delight. But your mind was cruel, reminding you of Bucky’s lips where Peter’s had been; of the chill on Bucky’s nose as he sought the warmth of your skin; of Bucky’s hands around you, holding you close like a puzzle piece fitting perfectly together.

The fireworks were reflected in the tears of your eyes, that you thankfully brushed away before anyone noticed. That was the last night you hung out with your friends as a group.

You couldn’t do it anymore, seeing Bucky and Claire hurt. Maybe it was the lies, all the bullshit you ate up like a starved child. And then it hit you.

Bucky wanted a relationship, but not with you.

PART 23

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #peter quill x reader

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moonstruckbucky · 5 years ago

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The Recruit (7/?)

Summary: Becoming a SHIELD agent had been your dream and finally, you’ve achieved it. You’re at the top of your class in every field except one—hand to hand combat, and it doesn’t impress Captain Rogers in the slightest. Instead, it seems to convince him you’re useless, setting off a tense relationship between the two of you. In an effort to bridge the gap, Bucky offers to help you train to earn your way back into Steve’s good graces. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes (not Stucky)

Warnings for Chapter: Nothin’ but fluff and soft, squishy Bucky. A bit of amgry Steve.

Notes: So... hi? It’s been a few months since the last update. I needed to step away for a while. Things were getting a little too heated here and it was really affecting how I felt about writing. And I hated that, quite frankly. I hated that I allowed people’s attitudes to get to me so bad it tainted one of the loves in my life. So. To the negative energy around here? Here’s a big middle finger. I’m not done yet. Clean up your act, and remember that all of us providing free content are fucking people. Y’all are getting a new, less bullshit-tolerant version of me. Smarten up.

Also, enjoy! x

Series Masterlist // Main Masterlist

When the quinjet touches down, you’re swept into the conference room to debrief the mission’s success. Sam, again, lets you take the lead in running down the mission, detailing the information hidden on the flash drive you’d managed to retrieve that contained the names of higher-ups within the organization. A quick cross-reference reveals their pasts associated with HYDRA, and Director Hill congratulates you on a job well done.

You can’t help but preen, a warmth in your chest that spreads outward. Your fellow agents grin proudly, offer their congratulations yet again, and Sam smirks like the proud mentor he is in the corner of the room, still adorning his wingsuit. Though Hill grants you a small crooked smile, she’s quick to express that your mission report is due by eight the next morning, fully completed and as detailed as possible, before the room is dismissed.

A few of the agents pull you into conversation out in the hall, complimenting you, asking advice. It’s strange - you’re as green, or greener, than some of these other agents, and yet they’re flocking to you. You thank them for their praises but ultimately brush them off - you’re sure any one of them would have been able to perform the job as well as you had.

It takes some effort to get away, your desire to get to Bucky, to see and talk to him, overwhelming you. Despite being in desperate need of a shower, you decide to forego it and head to the elevator. You scrape your nails through your hair, tousle it, and smooth it down, adjust your uniform. There’s a nick in the left sleeve from a wayward knife blade, and your boot is untied. Sweat caked to your hair and exhaustion in your eyes, but you’re determined.

Bucky’s floor is empty, his door closed. Soft music plays from behind the wood, and you rap your knuckles three times. It takes a moment, but the music stops, and you can hear Bucky’s footsteps scuffing across the carpet as he nears the door.

The surprise is clear on his face when he takes you in, and it’s quickly shrouded by worry as those eyes of his, so bright and blue, rake over your form. He tugs you into his room, your feet getting tangled together, and you nearly get acquainted with his floor.

“Bucky!” you squeak, and then his hands are...everywhere. Running over your arms and legs, pressing for bruises or breaks or fractures, and while your face heats up under his scrutiny, you still manage to get a grip on his hands.

He stills, eyebrows still pinched in worry, a doubtful frown creasing his forehead.

“I’m okay,” you tell him softly, offer a smile that helps to drive the point home. “Mission was a success, no injuries, we’re all fine.”

You feel hot under his eyes as he gazes at you, hard and unwavering, until whatever he sees is enough to convince him. He nods sagely and takes a step back, taking his warmth with him. If he notices the slight shudder of your shoulders, he says nothing.

“I, um, I actually wanted to talk to you...about this morning.”

At that, Bucky withdraws a little. Crosses his arms over his broad chest and paints on a steely facade of indifference. It makes your stomach drop, but you plough on.

“I’m sorry I ran.” Even a highly-trained former assassin can’t hide the fact he’s taken aback by your statement, and it gives you the momentum to continue. “I got into my head and I...I panicked. I thought I was taking advantage—” you ignore his snort— “and that it would look like I was trying to...to sleep my way up the ranks. And so I ran. But I had some time to think and I owe you that apology. If I embarrassed you, or humiliated you, or made you think I was rejecting you… I’m sorry.”

As you’d spoken, Bucky had taken some steps forward, a teasing smirk curling his mouth. His chest inches from yours, he leers down at you, and it takes a strong willpower not to lean into him. He lowers his head until his mouth is just centimeters from yours, his warm breath brushing over your cheeks and his eyes keeping yours locked in their trap.

A cornered animal, but running is the last thing you want when he’s looking at you like this.

“You really think you could take advantage of a super-soldier?” comes his lilting, velvet voice. It washes over you like a blanket, raising gooseflesh beneath your uniform and yet hiking the temperature up a thousand degrees. Something low in your belly curls, squeezes, makes your blood race.

You tilt your face, let your lips brush over his as you speak, “I think I can be very persuasive.”

A slight upward curl of his smirk and then he’s kissing you so deeply you have to tilt your head back. Much like in the gym, everything is Bucky. His mouth is soft but unyielding against yours, so fluid it feels like a dance you’ve done a thousand times. Sighing against his mouth, you sink into him, and he hums in reply.

His body is hard and hot where he pulls you in, his flesh hand scorching your skin even through your catsuit. The gunmetal hand cups your jaw, thumb presses into the bone to coax your mouth open. Your knees buckle at the first glide of his tongue against your bottom lip, and you feel the muscles of his forearm flexing to balance.

Your fingers slide into his hair, kept down and smooth like it’s been freshly washed, curl around the strands and tug just enough to make him tremble and groan low in his chest. His teeth are sharp against your lower lip and you hiss, mewl when he soothes the sting.

When he pulls away, an audible noise between your parting mouths, you’re left breathless. A - mostly - innocent kiss that has you gripping his hair tightly just to remain upright. Chest heaving, you watch him, dark eyelashes like feathers over his cheeks, and then those eyes flutter open.

“I suppose that means I’m forgiven?” It’s breathier than you intend, but who could blame you after a kiss like that?

Cheekily, he smirks and shrugs. “Haven’t decided yet.”

A narrowing of your eyes and you tug again on his hair. His eyelids flutter again and that muscle ticks in his jaw as he clenches it.

“Careful, sweetheart,” he warns with a tilt of his head and a look that sets your blood on fire.It’s too warm in here, and your mind has poor timing in remembering you’ve got news for him. So you make the painful move of stepping back and lowering your hands to his chest.

“I spoke with the Captain,” you murmur, glancing away and letting your mind drift to earlier that morning.

Bucky’s eyebrows rise, and he walks backwards with you until the two of you can drop onto the couch. He pulls your legs across his lap, a move that’s so casual yet intimate it takes you a minute to recover.

“What happened?”

“He was waiting outside my room. And he apologized. For how he’s been treating me, that it wasn’t fair and he’d understand if I couldn’t forgive him.”

You groan a little under your breath as Bucky’s hands work over your legs, fingertips digging deep despite the material of the uniform. You catch the look on his face.

“You look surprised.”

“I am,” he admits. And then: “He clammed up pretty fast when I asked him about why he was being such a stubborn prick to you. I’m glad to hear he smartened up.”

“You talked about me?” The thought of the rigid Captain and Bucky discussing you puts a weird feeling in your belly - one you’re not sure is good or bad.

“We did. After he called you out in the gym. We were on a mission together and I tried to get some information out of him, but he wouldn’t say a word except to tell me to shut it. What did you tell him?”

You sigh through your nose, wince when Bucky digs into a tender spot on your calf. It’s almost jarring out at ease you feel with him. “Told him it’d take some time. I’d be civil, but that he shouldn’t count on us being friendly any time soon.”

He snorts. “Bet that sat just peachy with him.”

“He was actually quite accepting of it. I think he knew he didn’t really have any room to argue.”

Bucky hums thoughtfully, and a silence ensues for a little while. He’s stopped his massage of your legs, though he still keeps contact, both palms warm through the tac suit.

In the midst of the silence, a thought occurs to you, and you mumble, “He said I was a good agent. One of the best he’s seen.”

Bucky’s eyebrows rise again - it isn’t often Steve dishes out compliments of that caliber. He watches your expression carefully; sees that you’re zoning out a little bit, mind someplace else, but not too far.

“He’s not wrong,” he adds gently, pulling you back to the present. You turn your eyes to him, slightly awed and speechless. He nods, as if to reaffirm his opinion. “You are a good agent. You’re smart and quick, and you bust your ass here. You’re strong, and you don’t take shit, even from Steve - especially from Steve. You’re gonna go far, I’m sure of it. So I can tell you that that compliment? He means it.”

You purse your lips and sink into the couch, slightly uncomfortable with Bucky’s praise. You appreciate it, you do, but between his sincerity and the attention showered upon you by your fellow agents, it’s a lot to shoulder in just a day. Not to mention the mental whiplash courtesy of the Captain’s supposed heartfelt apology.

Bucky seems to notice the war within you, the shadow that’s suddenly passed over your face. With a gentle smile, he tugs you into his lap and stands, carries you easily to his bedroom. He sets you down on your feet, the carpet plush and soft. He reaches for the zipper of your suit, catching your confused leer.

“Relax,” he huffs, “not doin’ anything but getting you comfortable. I can see how tired you are.”

Shoulders drooping, you let him undress you until you’re down to the tank top and spandex shorts you put on beneath the suit. He steps silently to his dresser, a feat that amazes you given his sheer size, pulls open a couple of drawers. He drops some dark, soft clothing into your arms.

“I’ll let ya get changed.” He leaves his room, closes the door behind him, to give you some privacy. The thought makes your heart stutter.

You’re swimming in his clothes, a pair of heavy sweatpants and a long-sleeved shirt that instantly surrounds you in his scent. It’s comforting, and you close your eyes and smile as you bury your nose in the collar. You feel awkward, though, standing in the middle of his bedroom. You glance at the bed - are you allowed there? He didn’t explicitly say no and yet…

Before you can worry too deeply, Bucky comes back with a mug clutched in his vibranium hand. The smell of green tea wafts into your nose as he gets closer, and the ceramic is warm when he hands it to you. You breathe deeply before the first sip, and you get a small hint of sweetness.

“Honey?” you question.

“Learned a thing or two since coming off ice. C’mon.”

He tugs once on the baggy sleeve of your shirt and climbs onto the bed, sitting up against the headboard with those long legs out in front of him. He helps you balance carefully, maneuvers you so that you’re tucked up into his lap, mug clutched tight between your hands.

He radiates heat, and a fog settles over you, a sleepy, honey-slow descent into exhaustion. You get halfway through the tea before you begin to doze; his metal fingers clink against the mug when he gently takes it from you, sets it on the nightstand, and shimmies down the bed while keeping you curled up against him.

It’s hours later when you wake. No light streams through the windows; you’ve slept through the rest of the afternoon and into the evening. The bed beside you is empty but warm from Bucky’s body heat, so he hasn’t been gone long. Still exhausted, you roll over, hug Bucky’s pillow to your face, and drift off again.

In the kitchen, Bucky swirls a glass of bourbon, leans against the counter. A tray with a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches rests on the counter behind him, a quick dinner for the two of you considering everyone else has turned in for the night. Steve sits across from him at the island, needing a break from endless paperwork and mission organization. He’d found Bucky bent over the counter, putting together the sandwiches.

At Steve’s questioning look, he’d said, “Y/N slept through dinner.”

And something sour curdles deep in his belly at the knowledge you’d slept - full context unknown - with Bucky. Found comfort in his best friend despite knowing he has no right. Not after the way he’s treated you.

“She said you apologized.”

Steve glances up at his friend, nods calmly. “Thought it was extremely overdue, and I didn’t really want her to leave because of me. Sam said she did well today, leading the team.”

“Bet that just ruffles your feathers, doesn’t it?”

Steve’s ready to retort, irritated, until he sees the gleam in Bucky’s eye, the smirk fighting to break through. He quickly deflates with a twitch of a smile.

“No, I’m...I’m happy to hear she’s not letting what I said get to her. I’m happy to hear she’s doing well.” It’s not a lie, but it’s said with a kind of hopeless tone that has Bucky tilting his head.

“When are you gonna tell me what all that was really about?” Bucky questions carefully. Sighing, Steve digs his thumbs into his eyes and shrugs. “Because even I gotta admit that isn’t like you at all. You always give people a chance before you have a bad opinion of them.”

“I don’t have a bad opinion of her…”

Bucky clenches his jaw, squeezes the glass in his hand. “You were on her ass from day one, pushing her and humiliating her when she didn’t meet whatever imaginary standard you’d set for her. She’s a rookie, Steve, she’s learning, and she’s learning fast if you ask me.”

He knows Bucky is right, yet his words paired with that acrid feeling in his stomach makes him scoot back from the island and turn to leave the room. Bucky calls his name, frustration and almost disbelief evident in his tone, but he ignores it.

He knows he’s being petty and stubborn and unreasonable, but he can’t help it. He’s normally not the type to run away from a fight, but how could he tell Bucky his true reason for his behavior? How could he tell his best friend that the girl he’s into reminds him of the very one she replaced? That her determination and confidence sent his heart hammering in his chest the very first day he met her?

….That he’s into the very same woman Bucky is?

Steve scrubs a hand over his face with a grunt as he stomps back to his room. That nauseous feeling still bubbling in his belly, he paces. He needs something to do, something that doesn’t require him to think, where he can shut his brain off. An idea crops up, one he knows is bad, but he can’t seem to stop himself from grabbing a jacket and exiting his room again.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #steve x bucky x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve x reader #steve x you #steve x you x bucky #steve x reader x bucky #the recruit

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lune-hime · 4 years ago

Text

Garden of Tulips (Levi/Reader) Chapter 2

~Click me for more chapters~

“What did it look like?” “Hmm?” Levi looked up from his place next to your sleeping form. “The titan that tried to snack on my darling granddaughter.” “Ugly as fuck.” “Aren’t they all?”

Levi recounts memories of the reader and their shared life together while she recovers from a serious injury.

!!WARNINGS!! - Violence, gore, smut, wholesome content ;)

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

Tulipa Princess Irene ~ An eye-catching tulip whose unique lavender markings on apricot petals make it unforgettable to any who gaze upon it.

↞↠↞↠↞↠

With one last glimpse in your direction, Levi followed your grandmother out of the room. Just as he was about to ascend the stairwell he was met with a gasp. Your grandmother was hunched over the railing, eyeing a suspicious piece of material.

“Is that a piece of titan skin on my mahogany railing?” She shrieked in horror, craning her neck to look at Levi who stood bewildered at the top of the stairs.

“And you got my floor all bloody.” She complained shaking her head. “Honestly, I didn’t think you would have the audacity to leave your disgusting boots on while walking through a lady’s house.”

Levi stared at her in disbelief. Is she fucking serious? Y/N was just bleeding out and she’s worried about her damned floors being dirty?

His glare remained cold and unwavering but he felt anger swell in his chest. He dug his nails into the wood of the railing and his pupils dilated. Before he had time to do anything, however, she suddenly burst out in a hearty cackle.

“Hah, gotcha. Don’t get your panties in a twist, shorty, I’m just teasing you. That was a test and you passed. Good to know you care about her health more than cleanliness. You can help me clean it up later, we are going to be spending a lot of time together after all.” Then she waddled down the stairs without sparing a single glance back. Levi was dumbfounded. He felt like he was going to have a heart attack from the combination of the lingering shock of the expedition and all the palpitations your grandmother was giving him. No amount of formal training, combat or political, could have ever prepared him to deal with this woman.

He followed behind as she scuttled through the archway to the right of the foyer. This room was the kitchen. It was open just like the rest of the house; windows decorated with cream doilies framed by dark paneled walls and a large island counter with stools in the center. The style of decor was modest but the layout screamed extravagance just like the previous rooms. Every space he entered he couldn’t help but gawk at its contents, it was far nicer than any place he had ever called home. He felt so out of place; like a poorman who had just walked into the prince’s quarters. This uncomfortable feeling kept him standing in the entrance; hand nursing his torn shoulder as another streak of red hot pain traveled up his back.

“Why are you standing there all hunched over like that? Are you sulky because you don’t get to get stitched up in a king size bed with pillows sewn with love and a cutie little nightgown? This kitchen isn’t as luxurious but I promise I’ll get the job done just the same; so get in here.”

He reluctantly entered the room and scooted into one of the stools, the metal bottoms scraping against the timbered floors as he took a seat. He rested his head on one hand while the other massaged his shoulder.

“Haven’t spent proper time with my granddaughter since walls know when and this is hardly the reunion I was imagining." Your grandmother muttered as she lit the gas burner on the iron stove. Levi watched the tiny blue flames dance into existence before settling into a warm orange.

“How long do you think she’s-” He attempted to ask, the tone of his voice rising significantly before it cracked.

“Going to be asleep?” He croaked. “By Ymir, are you going through puberty again?” She snorted and Levi’s features became icy.

“You like tea don’t you?” Levi nodded slowly. She didn’t look at him to check his response as she stood on her tiptoes to grab a glass from a higher shelf and the kettle from the side of the stove.

“Of course you do. My girl goes on and on about how it’s your life force.” She filled the kettle up with water before placing it on the burner, the stray droplets sizzling when they came in contact with the open flame.

“I’ll make you some tea with ginger root, that should help your sore throat. But for now drink some water, you sound like you’ve been huffing cannon smoke.” She filled the small glass with water and handed it to him. He gratefully accepted it and hummed in satisfaction when the cool liquid soothed the fissures in his throat.

“And to answer your question; I don’t have a damned clue. That gash on her side is beyond nasty. Her body is going to need a lot of rest to recover from all the shock, trauma, and blood loss she’s undergone.” Your grandmother placed a smaller kettle on the counter.

Levi watched as she sifted through her tea cabinet, swearing under her breath when she couldn’t find what she was looking for. For someone who was in the later years of their life she had remarkable posture. She carried herself with a confidence that retained her youth. She dressed simply, donning a long sleeved dress of a muted navy color, but aspects of her clothing reflected her wealth. Her shawl looked as if it was made out of cashmere; a commodity that not many people outside of Wall Sina had access to. She looked nothing like you, and her personality was sure as hell different. Her long silver locks were braided and wrapped into a neat bun at the top of her head. Her features were chiseled; a high brow ridge and straight nose were supported by a strong jawline. The only physical similarity you shared was your eyes. They shared the same structure, although yours were a little more almond shaped, and sparkled with the same excitement.

“Take off your shirt. Your boots, too, while you’re at it.” She commanded out of the blue, dipping a needle into a bottle of alcohol once and shaking it.

Levi was reluctant to undress, even though he knew he had to eventually. He never had any problem disrobing for the corps’ medical staff, unless it was Hange; he only let her near him if she didn’t have scissors in hand. That was story for another time. But this was your grandmother. It feltweird .

Levi hesitated at her request. She pursed her lips when she got no response.

“Relax, you’re not my type. Too short and toned. I like my men lanky-” She looked him directly in the eyes while she snipped the surgical thread.

“-so I’m able to snap them in two.”

This woman was truly an enigma. Levi’s mind couldn’t process how she could switch from sweet to salty within moments. He found himself more at a loss for words in these last few hours than he had been in his entire life. And he’s not a man of many words.

Y/N please wake up quickly . He pleaded in his mind as he unbuttoned his shirt.

He then shrugged it from his shoulders, hissing when the fabric scraped against his wound. Your grandmother came to his side and examined his exposed back. The gash stood out against his pale skin, the area surrounding it dappled with light bruising. She pressed a cold fingertips to the area, goosebumps freckling his skin in response.

“One of those big nasties barely grazed ya, if your position had been a couple centimeters to the right you probably wouldn’t have a spinal cord.” She mused, threading the needle through the surgical thread. What lovely images your grandmother painted with her words.

She dabbed a washcloth in the alcohol and began ridding Levi’s gash of the dirt and dried blood. His features contorted when the stinging liquid met his skin. Her cleaning was abruptly halted with the shrill scream of the kettle filled the room.

“Oh! The tea is finished.” She squealed, leaving her place at Levi’s side to take it off the burner. She then appeared before him and pushed the mug into his empty hands. The hot spice of the liquid hurt his chapped lips as he drank. But damn did it feel good. His whole body was blanketed in a serene numbing.

“Alrighty-you want the belt? You shouldn’t need it, though, it's not that deep.” She offered. Levi shook his head and took another sip of the tea.

“Okay, ready shorty?” She asked, pressing her hands to his back.

“Yeah.” He replied breathily, relaxing his muscles in preparation. Then Levi felt a pinch, followed by a tug, and then a dull burning as she weaved the needle in and out of his skin.

“So is my tea up to par with what you drink back at headquarters?” She spoke up after a moment.

“It’s good.”

“Just good?” She huffed and gave him a ginger slap on the shoulder.

I’m glad Y/N didn’t inherit her personality. She’s too fucking much to deal with.

“Hmm what was that?” She pulled the needle just a little too hard for Levi’s liking. He gasped and sucked a breath inward.

“I didn’t say anything.” He winced, gritting his teeth as she entered a particularly tender area.

“Now you’re starting to sound normal. You have a sexy voice, I see why Y/N likes you.” She cackled into his ear. Levi faltered and coughed, tea burning his throat as it entered the wrong airway. She took so much enjoyment in tormenting him and all this relentless teasing was going to push him past his breaking point.

“Why don’t you tell me a story to pass the time? Although your wound isn’t deep, it’s going to take me a little while to get it all cleaned up.”

“I don’t know any stories.” He responded blandly.

“I didn’t mean tell me a bedtime story. I wanna know about you and Y/N. That way I can get to know the person who is courting my granddaughter.”

She let the request sink in before speaking again.

“How did the two of you meet?”

“Officially?”

She hummed in agreement.

“She was delivering paperwork for me and she knocked over a box of my tea.” Levi explained, a small smile dancing across his lips. Your grandmother let out an artificial gasp and Levi clicked his tongue.

“Clumsy girl.” She chuckled, pulling the thread taut.

↞♞♘↠

Stop being nervous, Y/N, you’re just dropping off some papers and then you can leave right after. Your hands on the stack of parchment felt clammy and you picked the edges of the paper uneasily with your fingers.

Confident and assertive. That’s what your grandmother told you to be before you enlisted in the corps. However you found it difficult to live up to these words as the recipient of these important documents scared the absolute living hell out of you. You had had minimal interactions with him, and all of them unpleasant. It didn't help either that the horror stories you had heard from other cadets made your skin crawl. Surely he couldn’t be that bad though, right? After all, your cousin was constantly in his presence and they weren’t scared of him.

As long as you look like you can kick someone’s ass, you can. You repeated another one of your grandmother’s mantras in your head as you knocked on the large wooden door with a firm hand.

Nothing.

You knocked again, this time slightly louder, and abruptly drew into yourself as you awaited a response. Nothing.

Maybe he’s out? You thought, contemplating coming back later. You waved the idea off, however, as your squad leader had told you to meet them back at the training grounds immediately after you dropped the papers off. And they intimidated you too, although not to the extent of the Captain. You began to get jittery as you tried to think of the best thing to do.

Maybe the door is unlocked? I’ll just sneak in, drop the papers on his desk and run out. If he blames someone for breaking into his office he can blame Squad Leader. The plan seemed foolproof in your mind.

Wrapping your hand around the door knob you hesitantly turned it clockwise. A crisp click broke the tense silence, signaling that the door was indeed unlocked. To your delight you pushed it forward cautiously, the wood creaking painfully loud as you did so.

Before entering the vacant quarters you poked your head in and scanned any visible inch for tiny officer before calling out. Yet again you were met with silence. You swiftly padded to his desk and stacked the parchment neatly in the middle, taking caution not to knock over the inkwell or misplace any other of the contents of the table. Fighting against your conscience, you found it irresistible not to to look at the contents of the office. You were already in here, and if the universe was on your side, would never have to come back here again. Despite your fear for the man, you harbored an immense curiosity for him. Everything about him was shrouded in mystery; from his childhood to his enlistment to even just his favorite book. So, while you were here why not just have a quick look and then be gone?

Only the main room, though. You thought, gaze falling on the door to his private quarters. If he found you in there you would surely be skinned alive.

Your eyes floated from the bare and spotless walls to the velvety fuchsia victorian couch, to the brick fireplace, and finally to a small distinctive box on what you presumed to be his tea cabinet. You gasped in surprise, stepping closer to get a better view. It sat right next to a beautifully painted porcelain teapot among other boxes of tea in his collection. The tin was very familiar to you; your grandmother’s favorite tea. The box depicted a beautifully intricate war ship, its sails open to the wind and bow wet with the crashing waves. It was like laying eyes on an old childhood friend and you couldn’t help but smile.

“Oi Cad-” A low voice broke the stillness of the room, causing you to squeak and slap the box of tea right off the shelf. It’s top fell off with a pop and the ground tea leaves scattered across the floor. You stood there, mouth agape, frozen in fear. Maybe if you didn’t move you could dissolve through the floorboards and fade into another dimension.

“What. The. Fuck ?” He seethed, though his composure and expression remained devoid of emotion. His words made you shiver and you shakily straightened up.

“I-Captain I’m so, so so sorry. I came to deliver these documents because Squad Leader said that they were very important so it felt weird holding onto them for such a long time and then I saw this tea that I used to drink as a child and I swear I wasn’t trying to take it and then you startled me-”

“Just-stop.” The Captain held one arm out while the other rubbed his forehead in frustration. He looked like he was trying to collect himself. You sucked in a breath and awaited for your imminent death. Although it didn’t come as swiftly as you had presumed, and in a last ditch effort to redeem yourself in whatever way you could you spoke up.

“Let me clean it up, please!” You pleaded, your hands clasped together in front of you.

The Captain removed his hand to look at you and nodded his head in approval. When you made eye contact it felt like your soul was about to climb out of your body. You exhaled the breath you had been holding and picked up the tin and neatly placed it back on the shelf. Meanwhile, the captain had fetched a broom and a dustpan from the closet. You gratefully took them.

As you started to sweep the pellets of tea into a pile the captain took a seat at his desk, sinking into the chair with a tired exhale. He grabbed the top document and read it over, still expressionless. He mumbled fucking request forms when you swept the last pebble of tea into the dustpan. Rising, you moved to the corner of the desk to dispose of them in the trash can.

“Um, these go in there?” You asked, pointing towards the closet and the captain grunted in affirmation. It looked like he had gotten over his initial anger which eased your beating heart.

“Why were you touching my tea in the first place? Trying to steal it, Cadet?” His sudden comment caught you off guard, the dustpan fumbling in your fingers.

“N-No not at all! I was just admiring, I swear. It’s my grandmother’s favorite I just wanted to take a closer look…” You trailed off as you placed it neatly in the closet, shutting the door. He looked at you, his features set in stone so you couldn’t gage his reaction. You wondered how he would look with emotions. You weren’t going to stick around to find out.

His brows were so furrowed that they almost met his metallic eyes. His intensity made your intestines twist around each other.

"I-if you need me to I promise I can report for extra cleaning duty if my squad lea-"

"I know who you are. That won't be necessary." He interjected. You felt like a cow being sized up by its butcher.

"You...you do?" You asked tentatively. The moment the words left your mouth you felt like an utter dunce for questioning him. You hoped it was from your familial connection rather than your training slip ups.

The captain nodded once.

"You started working with Hange recently." He stated, his tone running along a flat plateau.

“Yes sir. I am from the 104th class, so technically I’m still in training. But I started apprenticing with Squad Leader last week.” You had gone into training with your childhood friend, but had graduated more quickly than others in your training group because of your extensive knowledge of life systems and quick mastering of combat training. What still held you back, though, was maneuvering the 3DMG gear. You just didn't understand how someone was supposed to stay in the air for longer than five seconds. So, in that aspect you still had a lot more training to complete. But when Hange caught wind of you she practically captured you and took you in as her apprentice.

“So you’re the brat the two of them been going on and on about?” His quizzical behavior set you on edge. One wrong answer and you would be sent to the slaughterhouse.

“Y-yes I guess. Before enlisting I was training with a biologist.” He made that grunting noise again and nodded once more. He really was a man of little words.

“Well sir, if you don’t need me for anything else I’ll be taking my leave. I’m sorry again I spilled your tea.” He didn’t say anything, just nodded again.

“I promise I’ll make it up to you!” You proclaimed, forming the best salute you could muster and turning to exit the premises.

‘Cadet Y/N.” He called, stopping you before you could depart. The hairs on the back of your neck as he proved he had knowledge of your name.

“Yes sir?” You stood awkwardly and awaited his response.

"Don't come snooping in my office again." He ordered sternly before shooing you gently with his hand.

↞♞♘↠

“So she was scared of you at first? Hah, what a softy. I see why though, the first thing you said to her included the word fuck. Not exactly smooth or inviting.” Your grandmother's words were harsh but they held a tone of endearment to them.

“Alrighty that lil’ scratch is all closed up now!” She declared proudly, leaning back and admiring her handy work. Levi stretched his back and ran his shoulder in circles to get some movement back into his stiff joints.

“Thank you.”

She smiled softly, the wrinkles under her eyes crinkling. She then turned her attention to the stove to begin preparing dinner. As Levi continued to stretch, a sudden, pressing problem he forgotten about popped into his mind.

‘Ah!” Levi gasped in recollection.

“‘Ah!’ what?” She mocked his surprised comment, not taking her gaze away from chopping onions.

“The horse.” He said frazzled with his gaze fixed on the front door. He shot up, ignoring the screaming protests by his shoulder, and was about to grasp the brass doorknob before your grandmother cleared her throat.

“A little eager aren’t we, Mr. Shirtless? You planning on flashing my neighbors?” She chimed throwing him his shirt with a playful smirk. Levi felt heat on his cheeks and averted her gaze.

“The stable is out back behind the shed.” She yelled from the kitchen as Levi slipped on his boots with haste. Buttoning the dirtied fabric he didn’t bother to tuck it into his trousers as he padded down the stairs to search the property for your horse. With the day coming to an end the landscape before him looked like something out of a postcard; birds fluttering about returning to their nests, the evening sunlight breathing warmth onto the flower fields. He would have never expected a place so idyllic existed within Wall Rose. He envisioned settling down with you at a place like this once this hell was over.

As expected, your horse wasn’t in the place you had left him. Levi puffed his cheeks and lazily looked around for the shed. He vouched to start from the left side of the house. He rotated his shoulder blades, feeling the tightness of the stitches and cracked in his neck. When he reached the side of the house the shed your grandmother had been talking about came into view. It looked more like a house than a shed to Levi as it was even bigger than most houses in the underground. A glorified shed indeed; freshly painted, nothing hanging off the sides and no equipment haphazardly strewn around the base.

“Alright you little shit where are you?”

Walking aimlessly around the shed proved fruitful, as peeking out from one side of the grand structure was movement. Approaching carefully he rounded the corner of the building to find what he was looking for. Your horse stood with his back towards him but sluggishly looked his way upon sensing his presence.

He looked awful. Dried blood caked of his cobalt coat and scratches littered his body, exposing the surface of his skin. His muscular neck hung low and he was favoring one of his back legs, hoof resting just above the ground. Levi felt bad for him.

“Damn you look fucking horrible.” He said aloud, looking him up and down.

Your horse snorted and glared back.

“What? You do.” He answered, instantly cringing after. He couldn’t believe he was talking to a horse. You did it all the time, however. You even claimed that he understood you on a spiritual level , but Levi thought it was just bunch of, well, horse shit.

Did he have a surprise concussion he didn’t remember getting? Did he have a hallucinogenic fever making him inclined to speak to animals? Placing the back of his palm on his forehead, he checked his temperature. No heat, just clammy.

As he closed the distance between the two your horse didn’t make a run for it like he usually did. He really is in bad shape if he isn't running.

Levi grabbed the grimy reins just below your horse’s chin and lightly tugged. He almost tripped over his boots at the sudden lack of movement. Whipping his head around he saw your horse hadn’t moved at all. His shoulder started to sting again.

“Let’s go.” He commanded, giving the reins one more small tug.

No movement. Even in his injured state the horse was still a pain in the ass.

He tugged more firmly, even clicking his tongue a couple times.

Nothing.

Levi then began stepping backwards slowly, pulling the reins as he did so. Your horse followed him with his head until he had stretched his neck as far as he could go without moving. Although Levi affectionately referred to him as a little shit, your horse was in fact a large shit. He was one of the largest horses within the Survey Corps which also made him very troublesome to move. And Levi realized that no amount of pulling was going to get him to budge.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. He was about to do it again.

“I know your favorite person isn’t here right now but, please? Y/N would want you to be someplace safe and cleaned up.” He blankly stared into its amber eyes and it stared right back.

When Levi tugged again, he slowly began to follow.

“Are you fucking serious.” He rolled his eyes and headed towards the stable.

↞♞♘↠

“Squad Leader I messed up, literally.” Your opening statement had the woman slightly worried, but mostly intrigued.

“Y/N. For the fiftieth time I told you to call me Hange, just Hange.” She responded cheerfully before laying eyes on your nervous form. She quirked an eyebrow and gestured to the lounge chair slightly to the left of her desk. You sank into it and let out a shaky breath before explaining the situation. Throughout the story, Hange had to stifle her laughter which caused your frown to deepen.

“That’s the most excitement shorty has gotten in a while.” She giggled, the severity of the situation going completely over her head. You curled up and groaned, placing your head in your hands.

“Aw, Y/N don’t be upset. You messed up and you apologized, that’s all you could have done. It’s not like shorty is going to kill you or anything.” She came to the back of the lounge chair and enveloped you in a hug.

“He does love his tea though…” She trailed off, cocking her head in contemplation. You let out a muffled cry and wiggled in her grasp.

“Ah-no I didn’t mean to stress you out! In all seriousness nothing bad will happen to you, I’ll see to that. You know how many brats annoy him on the daily? You are just another one of those cadets to him at most.” She reassured, rubbing your shoulders gently. She lowered her voice and matched his tone perfectly when she imitated his favorite insult. A little bubble of laughter rose from your chest.

“But if it’s really bothering you-” She gave your shoulders one last squeeze before returning to her desk. “You could buy him some more. Only if you can afford it, that is.”

You would have to use up a significant amount of this month's savings, because from experience you knew that stuff was not the cheapest, but if it meant that you wouldn’t suffer a lifetime of torture it would be a worthwhile monetary sacrifice.

↞♞♘↠

Levi led your horse into the stable, passing your grandmother’s other horses before stopping at an empty stall and placing him inside. He gingerly removed his saddle and bridle, careful not to nick any exposed skin.

I have my work cut out for me. He rolled up the fabric of his shirt up to his elbows before gathering the grooming supplies. Levi brushed out as much of the dried bits of blood as he could, sponged him down with warm water, and finished with bandaging the tender area just above his back hoof. The last part was particularly hard on his shoulder but he shrugged it off.

He evaluated the equine's condition from head to hoof. Levi had cleaned him up to the best of his abilities and resolved that there was nothing more he could do at the moment. He ran his hand along his neck, giving his coarse pelt a few long strokes, before stepping out of the stall and locking the stable door.

“Good night, little shit. Don’t even think about unlocking that door.”

↞♞♘↠

A few days after the tea incident you had decided to go into town to try to find a new tin. At dinner the previous night, Mikasa had offered to accompany you to help you find a replacement. Besides Hange, she was the only other person who knew of the event. As insignificant as spilling tea was compared to the other stories told by your fellow cadets you still didn't want your mishap spreading around. If your best friend knew about your little mistake you knew you were in for a life of relentless teasing. Not that you didn't already experience that, but you didn't want it going around that you had gotten on the Captain's bad side.

Mikasa had sworn to keep it on the down low, and you were grateful to her for that. The two of you had grown quite close in training as both of you excelled at hand to hand combat. From constantly training together you quickly found out the two of you had much in common and that you got along extremely well. Plus you were happy to have another girl around with all the testosterone floating about the 104th class. Mikasa and you had both grown up around boys, and even though you loved them, albeit them being idiots, it was refreshing to have other friends that were girls. Eren and Armin were attatched to her at the hip so you became more friendly with them as well.

“Hey ugly.” An upbeat voice called in your direction.

“Hey horse-face.” You shot back, looking up from your place at the fence.

“Please don’t start calling me that too. If you do, it will stick for sure.” Jean whined, crossing his arms.

“I’ll stop calling you that when you stop calling me ugly.” You teased, sticking your tongue out at the taller boy. Jean huffed in annoyance but smiled when you tried to hit him.

“You actually look nice today, all jokes aside. Got a date today?” He wiggled his eyebrows and leaned in closer to playfully look you in the eyes. Shoving him away you clicked your tongue.

You had in fact traded in your regular street clothes for something a little fancier, yet still casual. You donned a soft yellow sundress that made you feel less sweaty in the summer heat, pulled some of your short hair into a braid and had put on a ghosting of makeup. It had been awhile since you had the opportunity to dress up, so even if this was just going into town you wanted to take that chance to feel not dirty and grimy like you did during training.

“Would you believe it if I told you that I got all pretty for you, Jeanie~” You cooed, sticking out your bottom lip and looking up at him from under your lashes. Jean gagged in an exaggerated manner and mouthed a yuck before you started playfully kicking him.

“Uhm-guys?” A timid voice piped up, causing both you and Jean to stop mid limb-throwing to stare at the source of the sound.

“Ah! Hey Armin, Mikasa!” You instantly collected yourself and smiled brightly.

“By all means, don’t stop fighting. It was just getting good.” Mikasa added, a small smirk on her features. You abruptly disentangled yourself from Jean and placed your hair back in its position.

“Eren’s not coming?” You tilted your head in confusion. This trip into town was supposed to be the four of you until Jean insisted on joining.

It’s actually better off he’s not coming otherwise those two would be down each other's throats the entire time. You eyed Jean who was fiddling with his shirt.

Armin shook his head before explaining. “No, he has special training with the Captain.” The Captain. His name was enough to send shivers down your spine.

“Horse-face is coming with us into town?” Mikasa asked flatly. You nodded and Jean looked at her with minor offense.

“Yeah, he begged to come along. That’s how much I mean to him.” You linked your arm with his and gripped his forearm hard, cozying up to his side.

“N-no it’s not like that at all.” He stuttered, blush alight on his cheeks. He desperately tried to maneuver out of your grasp but you kept him hanging off your arm like a limp noodle. Armin laughed nervously and Mikasa flashed an amused smile. The way you manhandled Jean was quite an amusing sight.

“Please put up with him for a few hours for me; I had to tolerate him all throughout my childhood.” You pleaded, tugging on his arm causing his balance to falter in your direction.

The nearest town was within walking distance. You and Jean strolled side by side a few paces behind the other two in your party down the main street. Armin’s enthusiastic chattering could faintly be heard from your position. Jean, however, was the total opposite of Armin, and had begun sulking since you had embarrassed him earlier. He would not stop pouting, so you nudged him in the ribcage to snap him out of his pity party. He yelped in surprise and shot you a dirty look.

“Look I’m sorry for teasing you in front of her earlier.” You apologized, poking him on the arm. He gave you a confident smirk, which you knew as the start of his suave act, cool boy act.

“Pft- you mean Mikasa? I don’t care what she thinks.” He responded all too nonchalantly. You deadpanned. If your best friend was proficient in anything it was bullshit.

“You’ve been staring at her this whole time.” You commented, your companion’s confident facade faltering.

“Huh? I’m just walking.”

“I may be ugly but I’m not dumb, dumbass.” You snorted. “I know you like her, but there are no signs pointing towards she’s interested. You might as well date Marco.”

Jean swallowed wrong and began to have a coughing fit. Your firm pats on his upper back only worsened his condition.

“W-what? Why would I date him?” He gasped and jerked his head in your direction.

You were about to explain when Mikasa suddenly stopped.

“We’re here.” She called out. Jean and Armin looked towards the painted sign of the tea shop in confusion.

“We came all the way out here to get tea?” Jean questioned, unamused and still trying to recover from his coughing fit.

“You know how much I love tea.” You trilled. You made an attempt to ruffle his hair but he batted you away.

“Since you think it's lame you and Armin can go somewhere cooler, like the book store or something.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Mikasa interjected, sending an apologetic look towards Armin before shuffling you into the shop.

“Jean don’t be a dick, please!” You called out before disappearing into the shop.

It was a humble store stocked with countless varieties of tea and various kitchen wares. It was also the only shop that sold tea in this small town, so if they didn’t have the type you were looking for you were screwed. The two of you split up in search for the tea, but your searches came up empty as you scanned every display in sight.

“Is this it?” Mikasa asked, holding up a similar looking container. You shook your head, feeling defeat set in. A small man appeared in your peripheral vision.

“Excuse me, madam, is there something I can help you find?” His hands were clasped together neatly at his front and he wore a wide smile that was barely visible underneath his graying mustache.

“A-ah yes. Do you have Queen Mary tea?” Your question seemed to light up his eyes.

“Oh yes! Quite and aromatic and rich tea, isn't it?” He beamed, leading you to a display where familiar tins were expertly stacked along one of the top shelves. The anxieties that had plagued you for the past few days were all swept away when you saw that little warship. Thanking the employee, you purchased two tins, one for the Captain and one for your grandmother.

“Let’s hope this will set me in the clear.” You said with slight apprehension. Mikasa silently placed a hand on your shoulder as you left the shop and made your way down the cobblestone street.

↞♞♘↠

Upon Levi’s return to the house the sun had set and the moon was already creeping up the sky.

“Why did you take so long?” Your grandmother prodded as if she were interrogating her teenage son.

“He was hiding.” Levi explained as he shoved his boots off his feet.

“...the horse?” She questioned, eyebrow raised. Levi nodded in conformation, plopping rather ungracefully onto one of the kitchen stools. She shook her head in disbelief but didn’t pry any further.

“Here, eat up.” She said, sliding a plate across the table. Bratwurst dressed with sauerkraut and two slices of buttered bread on blue china laid before him. His mouth must have been visibly watering because she puffed with laughter.

“When you’re done please go to bed. You look like shit, bet you feel like it too.” She cackled. There was a small piece of Levi that was beginning to find her dryness endearing.

“Thank you.” He expressed his gratitude before digging into the food. She grunted in response.

“Well-I’ll quit bothering you tonight. The two of you almost made it to Valhalla today so you deserve a full night’s sleep.” She stifled the flames on the stove and took her leave but not before stopping in the doorway.

“I’m going to go check on her again before heading off to bed myself. I’ve prepared one of the guest rooms for you, it’s the last door on the left.” Levi looked up mid bite of his sausage and swallowed before speaking.

“Thank you.”

“Sheesh is that all you know how to say?” She turned back once more in the entryway with a warm smile.

“Eat quickly and get some sleep, otherwise you won’t grow any taller.” Her barking laughter bounced off the walls and harmonized with the creaking of the stairs as she ascended them.

After he finished his meal he went to check on you again. Your condition looked the same; gentle limps strewn across lavender silk and color flushed from your complexion. He slowly pulled the covers up to reveal your bandaged torso. An opaque layer of red rested beneath the layers of gauze, meaning you were still bleeding through the stitches. The hand he used to place the covers over you once more moved to rest against your cheek. He had some false hope in his head that you would react to his touch, but you laid still as ever. Levi prayed you were sleeping as blissfully as you looked, that your peaceful expressions and steady breaths didn’t hold a secret sea of turmoil behind them. He placed a loving kiss to your forehead and reluctantly drew away from you.

He initially thought he would have trouble sleeping, both from his unconventional sleeping habits and the earlier events, but when his head hit the downed pillow the mattress absorbed all the tension in his muscles. His eyes instantly fluttered shut and Levi was engulfed in a tranquil darkness that he hadn’t experienced in a long time. The last thing he heard before he was washed into the the void was that melodious laughter of yours.

↞♞♘↠

Okay, Y/N you can really do it now. He’s positively in there this time.

So after returning from town, here you stood at the climax of your tea saga. The freshly brewed kettle shook with the small tremors of your hands and the cream almost spilled as they gripped the edges of the tray.You attempted to form a determined visage before knocking twice with your foot.

Confident and assertive. Confident and assertive. Confiden-

“Name and business.” Oh god this is actually happening. The situation had manifested from hypothetical to real in a matter of a few words.

“Cadet Y/N, sir.” You specified, eyes locked on the chipping varnish of the door.

“Come in.” A voice with the richness and texture of red wine answered.

It was then you fully realized how preoccupied your hands were and began fumbling to open the door. The Captain heard a symphony of clanking and thudding and rose to his feet.

The next thing you knew the door was being swung open, causing you to falter and barely stop the tray from tumbling from your hold. The Captain regarded you with his usual unwavering expression. His inability to change facial expressions sent you spiraling further into a world of nerves. He said nothing as you straightened yourself up.

“Good evening, Captain.” Meeting his gaze, you smiled. You hoped it looked natural but to your superior you just looked constipated.

“I wanted to apologize again for what happened two days ago, sir.” You started, adjusting the grip on the tray. The Captain’s metallic features dropped from your face to the contents of your hands.

“So I bought you more tea as a replacement, and I brewed a fresh pot for you. Squad Leader said you usually drink tea in the mornings and evenings, and I had to train this morning so I decided this was the best time…” You trailed off towards the end of your speech, remembering how he silenced your rambling before.

The Captain didn’t know how to react. No brat, nor anyone for that matter, had ever gone to this length over something so simple as spilling a sachet of tea. Sure he was annoyed when it happened, but never did he expect you to purchase a whole new tin for him. He new tea was not an affordable commodity, especially this brand. He was the tiniest bit touched.

“You bought this?” He asked, hints of shock evident in his voice. He gestured to the box and you nodded rapidly.

“Yes, sir. I bought you a new tin. I hope you don’t mind I placed some of the bags in the kitchen.”

“That’s fine.” He confirmed. Suddenly the tray was being pushed into his chest. Taken aback he moved backwards slightly.

“Please take it as compensation for the trouble I caused.” You requested, your outstretched arms voicelessly asking him to accept your gift. You waited expectantly for him to relieve you of the tea. When he performed no such action you gulped.

“Place it on my desk.” He instructed, nodding his head in the direction of his work space.

“O-oh yes sir!”

He stepped aside to let you scurry over to the desk. Once you set the tray down you saluted him and made your way back to the door. Before you could dismiss yourself the guttural clearing of his throat stopped you dead in your tracks.

“I did not dismiss you, Cadet.”

Rather than butterflies, bats began swarming in the pit of your stomach. They screeched at your nerves and their leathery wings pricked the inside of your skin. Your head explored all of the terrifying scenarios that could come after that phrase. Thankfully you had an overactive imagination.

“Do you know where Squad Leader Mike’s office is?” He questioned, lifeless eyes boring through your chest. You nodded timidly.

“Go give these to him. When you come back, you don’t need to knock.”

Upon your return after a refreshingly brief encounter with Mike you found the Captain totally immersed in the tea. His eyes were closed, breaths rising from deep in his chest, and a smoothness to his features. If you were not completely petrified by his demeanor, you fancied you would have found him quite handsome.

Handing him the documents Mike had traded for the ones you gave him earlier, you made your second attempt to escape from the Captain’s clutches.

“Cadet.” He called just as your fingers brushed the doorknob.

“Yes, sir?”

“Thank you.”

Your eyes went wide and the bats transformed into butterflies, flitting about in a less chaotic manner.

“A-ah yes, of course sir!” You saluted in one fluid and exaggerated motion. He clicked his tongue and waved your salute off. A short silence fell upon the room that caused you to fiddle with the hems of your sleeves. Levi regarded you with unfeeling eyes, yet beneath them your sweet appearance made his chest clench. Just as you were curious about him, a strange interest in you had blossomed within him.

“Do you need anything else sir?” You offered as he rose from his seat to grab two tea cups from the cabinet.

“Sit.” He instructed, his command firm but no hint of authority in his tone.

“P-Pardon, sir?”

“Sit.” He pointed towards one of the chairs in the corner. You brought it over and seated yourself on the opposite side of the desk. The inside of your body felt as if it was filling with iron, making you feel heavy as you awkwardly awaited his next move. The air was painfully thick between the two of you, if you had let out a large breath it would have solidified within seconds.

“Tell me, how do you make it?” He asked, his words thinning the air. His visage remained focused on preparing the tea, a meager knit of the eyebrows the only movement on his face.

“Pardon, sir?”

“The tea. It’s very good.” The butterflies crept back into your bloodstream. Did he just compliment you?

“Thank you, sir!” You exhaled with a smile, extremely relieved that he was satisfied with your repentance.

The Captain then poured the dark liquid into your cup. He handled the teapot with such a delicacy that contrasted his stark disposition; thin, pallid fingers caressed porcelain while acute ashen eyes supervised.

“Sugar?” He asked, his attention still fully on the tea.

“Yes, please.”

“Cream?”

“No, thank you.”

A tap tap of the steel spoon against the rim of the cup was followed by a soft thank you as he pushed the vessel towards you.

“I add a bit of honey to the tea leaves to give it sweetness. Black tea tends to be bitter on its own.” You answered his earlier question, taking a small sip, cautious not to slurp. Instantly the metal oxidized from your body and was replaced with air.

“Interesting. Where did you learn that?” He lilted, adding a stingy amount of cream to his cup.

“I learned how to make and serve tea when I was young. My family is acquainted with some affluent individuals.” Your thumbs traced patterns on the surface of your teacup.

“Affluent, huh?”

“Yes, sir. A bunch of snobby assholes if you ask me.” Your face turned a ghostly pale before flushing bright red. Just when you were nearing the top of the whole you had dug yourself into you had fallen right back in.

“P-pardon my language, sir! I had no intention of speaking vulgarly.” You covered your mouth with your hands, mortified by your tone of speech.

The captain huffed. It was sound that came deep from his chest that made his eyes crinkle slightly and the corner of his lips twitch upward. It was a sound that made your butterflies flit about and generate a lovely fuzzy feeling with each wing beat.

Maybe your Captain wasn’t as scary as you had originally thought.

#levi #levi x reader #LEVI ACKERMAN #levi heichou #attack on titan #Attack on titan fandom #attack on titan fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin #levi fanfiction #hange zoe #petra ral #levi/reader #AoT #snk #snk x reader #jean kirschstein #bisexual jean

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gallickingun · 5 years ago

Note

could i request 48 with bakugo? i really love how you write him and i love your writing in general 🥰

a/n: you are so kind, thank you so much! my heart is in a fluffy place today so here is some sweet stuff!! well, it ends sweet. beginning is angsty :)

DID I HEAR SOMEBODY SAY BOXER!BAKUGOU????

Prompt #48: I called you at 2am because I need you.

“Fuck,” Bakugou brushes the heels of his hands over his eyes, one completely swollen shut and the other weeping uncontrollably. He fumbles in his pocket for his phone, bloody fingertips smearing over his screen. Another string of expletives tumble from his lips before he can find your name in his contacts.

He can’t help but note the time on his phone - 2:37 am.

“Please pick up,” Bakugou swallows the growing lump in his throat, “C’mon, pl-oh, hey.”

Your voice rings out on the other end of the receiver, gravelly from sleep but he can’t even notice because he’s just so thankful that you’re awake now.

His voice cracks when he speaks next, “C-Can you...shit, can you come pick me up?”

You rattle something off, not even asking where he’s at because you already know. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to pry his backside up off the concrete after a particularly difficult match. But, he has always had his main rule - no hospitals.

He hears the telltale beep of your side of the line cutting out and the nerves roll off of his shoulders in waves. He sinks further down the sidewalk, the brick scraping his already raw skin, but his adrenaline is pumping too hot for him to feel much of it.

When you arrive, less than a half hour later, he’s snoring against the wall of the alleyway, a garbage bin not too far away. You shake your head and step forward, smacking him on the back of the head to wake him up, “Alright, sunshine, time to go. Can you walk?”

“Oi, for Christ’s sake,” Bakugou rubs at the tender skin at the back of his head, “I could have a head injury, you bitch!”

You point your finger in his face, the tip of your nail grazing his bloody nose, “Call me a bitch one more time, Katsuki, and I will leave your ass in the street. They can pick you up tomorrow with the rest of the trash.”

Bakugou wants to snarl, wants to snap and bite at your finger, smarting off to you with some retort, but instead he keeps his mouth shut, shrinking back so you’ll leave him alone. He’s not in the mood to argue, not now. He’s already lost one fight tonight, and he doesn’t really feel like losing another.

Besides, the last argument the two of you had didn’t exactly go his way.

You help him up, lacing his arm over the length of your shoulders. He’s sticky with blood, but still warm to the touch. You help him hobble into your SUV, opening the trunk for him to climb in. You’ve lined the back with a sheet and plastic tablecloth so your car won’t be obscenely dirty after this, and your meticulousness makes him chuckle.

“Feel like a dog,” he mutters, dragging his legs up into the vehicle.

You toss his bag in next, grazing his bruised thigh as it skids to the other side of the trunk. Bakugou’s eyes go wide and he digs his hands into the sheet underneath him instead of mouthing off like he wants to. The last thing he needs is you tossing him out of the back of your car at high speed.

“You are a dog,” you answer.

The next thing he knows, you’re slamming the trunk and making your way to the driver’s seat. Something in him wants to speak, wants to say thank you or how have you been? However, when you turn up the music and the familiar piercing sound of hard rock hits his eardrums, he knows better than to say anything. Instead, Bakugou leans his head back against your window and dozes in and out of sleep.

He’s shaken awake by the slamming of your door, the soles of your boots stomping against the concrete of your garage. The trunk door opens and he squints his eyes against the bright LED light attached to the ceiling. He swallows, snatching his bag as he swings his legs over the bumper. It hurts, and his face must show it because you step closer.

He waves you away, insistent on dragging his own ass inside. You take a stride backward and watch as he struggles to stand upright. His knees give out and a string of curse words part his lips but before he can crumble to the ground, you’re underneath him, catching his body in your arms. You lift him up as much as you can, thankful he’s shed the flashy costume in favor of a signature black tank top and cargo pants. It’s much lighter and not nearly as bulky.

The two of you hobble over the threshold and towards the bathroom. It takes a few minutes because he’s slow and heavy in your hands, but eventually you make it.

“Get in the tub,” you instruct, turning on the water. You disappear into the hallway to grab a few towels and the first aid supplies, which gives him enough time to try and slip out of his tank.

When you return, he’s got his elbows stuck in his shirt, unable to yank it over the top of his head. You sigh, “You’re hopeless, you idiot.”

You snag his shirt and tug it over his head, having to extend your arms all the way given his height. Bakugou hisses as the tank sticks to a particular wound, the crusted blood on his shirt the only thing keeping it plugged. You ball up the fabric at the hem and give it a final tug, tossing it in the sink once it’s peeled from his body.

“God, what kind of guy did you fight?” You examine the cut which is now seeping blood, crimson dripping down the contours of his obliques. Bakugou peers down at you, a grimace ever present on his face, “Fuckin’ crazy ass. Fingernails were knives, super strength and shit.”

You shake your head and huff out a laugh, “Do you need help?”

The word ‘yes’ never leaves his mouth, but the wounded look in his eyes tells you all that you need to know. You unbutton his pants and drag the cargos slowly down his legs, careful not to reopen any major wounds. You do notice a few scrapes and gashes on his thighs and calves, making you wince at the sight. He steps out of the pants, the sensation of the cool tile welcome against his hot feet.

You’ll never get over the way his sweat smells - or rather, doesn’t smell. The scent radiating off of him reminds you of a campfire, of a summer evening spent in front of a set of flames, making s’mores and laughing with friends. His quirk seems to have nothing but upsides - not only is he both offensively and defensively a force of nature, but it also gives him a sweet aroma that deters the stench of salty sweat in favor of sugary nitroglycerin.

Bakugou kicks off his underwear, facing away from you, and you’re able to drink in his full form - he’s been taller than six foot since the last you could remember and it would seem he’s filled out even more in the past couple of months than when you last saw him. Even when he’s bruised and battered, he’s still beautiful, that much you know.

As he winces and his eyes close, you take the time to look over his shattered body. He’s got blooming purple and blue bruises all over his torso, little red cuts to offset the color range. Even still, the solid way he’s build, muscle and sinew wrapped around dense bones, makes your heart turn in your chest.

Bakugou breaks you from your trance as he steps into the bathtub, wincing and gasping as the water hits his open wounds. He sinks down to his neck in the bath water, the bubbles doing just enough to hide him from you.

“Damn,” he rolls his shoulders, swallowing the lump caught in his throat. He rolls his neck and his jugular pulses obviously, jaw muscles tensing under the pressure of his teeth as they grind together.

You drag the damp rag over the cut on his shoulder, trying to ignore the way his face screws up in pain. You sigh, “I think you’re gonna need stitches. Are you sure you don’t wan-”

“No hospitals,” he shakes his head, “you know what would happen.”

A growl rolls around in your throat but you swallow it, instead focusing on cleaning his wounds. Your cheeks heat from the closeness of his naked body, even though he’s submerged in bathwater and injured from head to toe. Bakugou has always been able to get you heated, no matter the situation.

“You can get your legs,” you tell him, wiping at his face with a new rag, staining the grey fabric red. Tears settle in the bottom of your eyelids, threatening to spill over the more you think about the situation he’s in. Despite the fact that he’s there completely out of his own volition, it still makes your heart wrench seeing him broken down like this.

The water is tinged a reddish brown when you’re done and he unplugs the bathtub. You hand him the towel before you get an eyeful of him, walking to stand in the doorway while he dries off.

“I set you some clothes on the back of the toilet,” you choke out the words, tilting your head to look up at the ceiling. He’s chuckling but it’s cut off by a grimace, “Still haven’t burned these yet?”

You kick your foot against the carpet in the hall, “Katsuki, just because you pissed me off doesn’t mean I’m not still your best friend.”

The words hurt as you say them, but you have to spit them out so they don’t die in your stomach. Being labeled as something so platonic has haunted you for decades now, ever since those playground days spent with the blonde, trying to pick up his mess and put back together those he’d hurt.

Bakugou makes the toilet seat shudder when he collapses on top of it, body hunched over from effort. He sighs, “I know you hate this.”

It’s his version of an apology, of words that he can’t ever seem to spit out right. It’s the exact reason you told him to leave you out of his irresponsible and illegal activities. Using quirks to fight was considered a heavy offense, landing some individuals life in prison. Katsuki learned to fight on the streets, and when he wasn’t accepted into U.A., he turned to underground fighting rings to satiate his need for justice and penance.

“You’re right,” you gulp, turning to crouch in front of him. You’re on your knees when you pull out the suture kit, “I do hate this. So why did you call me?”

His hand finds the fabric of your hoodie, curling around it to use as an anchor as you start to stitch up the particularly large gash on his rib cage. Bakugou grits his teeth, the answer coming out strained, “You’re all I have.”

Unfortunately, it’s the truth. Bakugou has become a rather recluse individual, relying on specific people rather than many. Deku earning a quirk and flying to the top of UA’s class was like a kick between the legs, something Bakugou wasn’t sure he could ever recover from. To watch his childhood rival rise on the charts, closing in on the other Pro Heroes until it appeared he would challenge even All Might in ranking, did nothing but tear down Bakugou’s confidence even more.

You noticed that he started to get involved in more reckless, high stake fights. He would call you, barely breathing, and beg you to take him home and put him back together. It helped that you had become a nurse while he was learning how to use his quirk to make money under the table.

And eventually you hit your limit.

“Katsuki, this has gone far enough!” you shouted, tears gathering in your eyes. You sighed, clenching your hands to fists, “It’s time to choose. I won’t be a part of this any longer.”

Bakugou growled, stepping forward even though he could only see you with one eye, the other swollen shut, “I don’t take orders from you!”

Your lower lip quivered and you threw the bloody stitches in the sink, your fingers worse for wear after patching him up so many times, “Eventually it’s just not worth it, Kacchan. Eventually it’s too much.”

“Maybe for a weakling like you,” he spits the words like venom, and you recoil as if they’ve stung, “but I’m strong enough to handle it.”

You nodded, nostrils flaring to keep yourself from giving away too much of your feelings on your face, “Then handle it by yourself.”

The memory alone brings the threat of tears to your eyes, heat gathering at your temples and making your forehead throb. You swallow the lump of emotion multiplying in your throat, begging your feelings to get out of the way so you can do this one thing, and then he can leave.

You’re sighing again, the sight of his swollen face making your whole body hurt, “God, doesn’t this get old?”

You wash his face with antiseptic before using a butterfly bandage to seal the wound on his face. The bruised eye will just have to heal with an ice pack and some pain medication, not much you can do so close to his dainty organs.

“All I know is my fists, you of all people should get that,” he snaps, voice teetering on the edge of patronizing. His hand flattens against your side, fingers curling around your ribs, “It’s been too long and I’m too far gone. It’s too late.”

You’re sliding forward now and he can feel your thighs settle atop his so he grasps you on either side, keeping you anchored to him as you work at his face. He has a few spots near his hairline and jaw that need to be stitched back together and you focus all of your attention on them, pushing away the reality that he’s holding you just the way you like, just the way you want.

You’ve imagined him holding you like this too many times to count. You always wanted to feel his hands on your body, keeping you enraptured in his presence, eyes glued in on your face while you sit in silence. Even if there were no conversation to be had, you would have been happy to find solace in his touch.

“S’never too late, Kacchan.”

The sound of you calling him by the name you used when you were small, when you were always chasing after him, it’s intoxicating. He swears he could get off on your voice alone - the way your lips curl around his name, how his chest tightens when you’re this close. The blood pumping in his veins is so loud he’s sure you can hear it thudding under his skin.

Bakugou tilts his head, looking up at you with his one good eye, hands falling to your thighs, “I’m sorry.”

An audible gasp parts your lips and you immediately blush, hating yourself for your outburst. It is rare for him to speak those words, to let loose the threads of honesty that haunt his mind. His face looks so open, so bare - eyes blown wide and jaw hanging open just slightly so you can see the pink of his tongue.

“Kacchan,” you shake your head, tears resurfacing as raw emotion claws at your chest like an enraged beast. You tie off his suture and drop your hands to his shoulders, thumbs brushing over the dense muscles connecting his neck to his throat, “Don’t.”

“All you ever wanted me to do was to be sorry and now that I’m saying it, you’re telling me ‘don’t’?” Bakugou’s voice rises with every word, his fingertips biting into the fleshy parts of your hips. He grinds his teeth together and his nostrils flare as he attempts to tame the fiery outburst that sits on his tongue, begging to be unleashed in a raging fury.

Your lower lip wobbles and he surprises you by brushing the pad of his thumb over the fullest part of your lip, effectively stealing your breath. He is being kind, gentle even, something you have not seen from him in quite some time. This is the Katsuki you know, this is the Katsuki you cherish.

There has always been something between you and Bakugou, ever since the two of you could figure out that you had emotions, but were competent enough to know how to hide them. He bottles himself up until he’s ready to explode, and you feel too much but your fear reigns you in and keeps you quiet. Neither of you spoke about it, although everyone around you could feel it, could see it.

Maybe that’s why you snapped at him all those months ago, telling him to choose. Maybe you wanted him to choose you so you could surge forward and kiss the breath out of him. But then he pushed you away, sidelined you as if you meant nothing to him; almost as if abusing his body and breaking his spirit was more important than you and the bond you shared.

“I-I’ve been so fucking lonely since you left.” Bakugou runs his fingertips down your jaw until he’s got your neck in his grasp, fingers spread out without issue over your throat. The tips of his fingers tickle the nape of your neck and you want to fall into him, to let him take you alive and never let you go. He could do away with you and you’re sure you’d still say thank you, still beg him to do it again.

Bakugou swallows and his throat bobs, but you snap out of your stupor to shake your head to fire back at him, “I didn’t leave, you chose fighting over our friendship.”

“Quit bullshitting yourself,” he growls, voice grating against his throat. You’ve never heard him so raw and real, so emotional. Bakugou grits his teeth together just long enough for your eyes to track the way his jaw muscles clench, “You wanted a confession out of me that night. You wanted something I couldn’t give you. And now you’re upset about it.”

And yet, the way that his hands hold you gingerly and warmth seeps into his carmine irises makes you think that he doesn’t believe what he’s saying, or rather what he’s denying. You roll your lips together, trying to rid yourself of some of the tension building up in your body. His eyes track the motion and it gives way to even more of his inner honesty to be put on display.

“Kacchan, I-”

Bakugou surges forward and kisses you square on the mouth, a bruising action that is over as soon as it’s started.

He pulls away, breathing heavy as his one healthy eye struggles to stay open at the sensation of your lips. His eyelashes flutter against the tops of his cheeks but you can’t notice because your eyes won’t even open. Your jaw is unhinged, mouth parted while you try to absorb what just happened.

“K-Kacchan,” you whisper, your voice too close to wanton.

His breath stutters over your lips, both hands on your face to hold you in place as he breathes you in. Bakugou’s hands are hot, warm against your cheeks, that familiar sweet scent making your head dizzy. You’ve missed the comforting smell, the reminder that he is close, within an arm’s reach. Other’s describe the scent as burnt sugar, but to you it’s a warm caramel, a familiar haze that makes you feel at home.

The both of you open your eyes at the same time, time moving slow as your irises meet. Your palms drift to his chest, knees shifting just enough so your hips brush his groin. Bakugou grunts, eyes dropping to your lips as his waist rolls upward to meet yours, “Fuck.”

A moment of hesitation passes between the two of you before you clash together in a searing kiss. His lips slot between yours as his hands drift into your hair, holding you close to him while he makes quick work of your mouth. Bakugou, even battered and tired, is skilled at knowing when to tug your lips and when to soothe you with his tongue. It’s as if he can read your mind, making moves you didn’t know you wanted him to make before your mind can catch up with your body.

“Kacchan,” you whine into his mouth as he sucks on your lower lip, digging his teeth into the sensitive flesh. One of his hands drifts to your hips, fingers digging into your backside as best he can from this angle.

He groans, “Love it when you call me that, shi-baby, say it again.”

You echo the name repeatedly, feeling the desperation in him grow with each syllable. He’s probably opened one of his wounds with the way his muscles are tensing but he couldn’t care less. All he’s thinking about is the way you taste, the way you feel. Your mouth is warm and gentle in comparison to his raging power, the desire to overwhelm you like an opponent sits in his belly, a fire being stoked with every motion. The touch of your hands in his hair is grounding to an extent; reminding him that he’s here, with you, and it’s not just a dream.

Eventually you have to part long enough to breathe, but he starts down the path of your throat, open-mouthed kisses leaving a patch of warmth behind. It’s as if he’s unable to let you go now that he’s had a taste of you. You whine, digging your hands into his shoulders while he works at your skin.

“I should’ve picked you,” he murmurs against your collarbone. He sucks a small hickey into the thin skin before nudging his nose over your jugular, “I-I should’ve made the right choice.”

You’re gasping for breath, the sheer force of his kisses from earlier still leaving you wanting. You look down at him, eyes blown wide and lips bruised from use, and you know that he’s telling the truth. There’s something in his irises that he can’t hide - a certain vulnerability you’re sure he’s only shown to you.

“Suki, I-” You swallow the hesitant lump in your throat, every word you’ve had pent up in your lungs for the past few months begging to be freed. Bakugou shakes his head and kisses you again, mouth silencing you before you can let out something too honest. He has to tell you the truth first; he’s been sitting on it for months, percolating with it and allowing it to eat him alive.

“I fucked up, okay? I get that.” Bakugou nuzzles his nose against yours, keeping his eyes closed because otherwise he knows he won’t be able to finish his sentences. “You scared me shitless, and I screwed everything up. I know that now. And I’m sorry.”

You brush your hands through his hair, tugging gently to reassure him. He huffs against your neck, “I wanted to choose you, I swear.”

“I wanted you to pick me,” you exhale, and suddenly you are Atlas and the world is being lifted off of your shoulders when the truth is spoken. Tears collect in the corners of your eyes but you know that it’ll frustrate him if you start crying so you lean back to try and keep them at bay. After taking a short breath, you whisper, “But I’m sorry I ever made you choose. That wasn’t fair.”

He kisses the base of your throat, lips muffled against the skin, “I-I can’t promise you I’ll just quit. This is my life right now. But, I-”

“You can’t change for me,” you tug on the back of his head to get him to face you. “I know that now.”

You’re sure his irises have never been so soft, so pale; amber gazing up at you in awe of your words. His lips are parted and you take advantage of the moment to lean forward and take his mouth captive. You slip your tongue between his lips, mapping out the curves of his teeth and gums. You moan when he suckles on the tip of your tongue, biting down gently on the base, enough to make you squirm.

He peels back to press his forehead to yours, gasping for breath so his chest brushes against your torso. Bakugou notices the glassy look in your eyes, the way your mouth loses speed the longer he kisses you.

“C’mon,” he murmurs into the curvature of your neck, “let’s go to bed.”

You blink slowly, “B-But, Kacchan, I-”

“No buts, loser,” he picks you up and tosses you over his good shoulder. A quirk-laced slap to your backside makes you squeal, “Kacchan!”

Bakugou chuckles, spanking you again, but this time much lighter. He rubs his thumb over your thigh as he walks you to your room, the trek all too familiar, “You’re falling asleep while you’re kissing me, loser. It’s past four in the morning.”

It does not take long for you to fall asleep after he’s wrapped himself around you underneath the covers, ankles crossing beneath the blankets. His hand is in your hair and his ears perk at the sound of your gentle snoring, adoration making his mouth turn upward and his eyes shine. Bakugou buries his mouth in the crown of your hair, kisses dropped over your scalp like flowers planted in a garden.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmurs, squeezing his good eye shut, the other throbbing in a dull rhythm.

Somehow those words are easier to say when you’re asleep.

---

a/n: well, that started off alright and then slowly digressed into... dumpster fire. but hey, what’re you gonna do! i bet you hoes thot you was gettin’ some spice, huh??

taglist: @kamehamethot @simplybakugou @lady-bakuhoe @todorki-shoto @redhawtriot @burnedbyshoto @cookies-n-chaos @katsukisprincess @rat-suki @cutesuki--bakugou @k-atsukidayo @bnhatrashh @succulent-momma @voiceofreader @multifandom-fanfics @that-one-enthusiast @bitchtrynafck @cutest-celestial-princess @blue-peach14 @pastel-prynce @bokunokangae @shoutodoki @bakuoushoe @tenyaingenium @hoe-biscus @kingtamakimurder @myherofuckademia @myherowritings @lxvely-mha @myherorambles @ramen-rambles @bratwritings @samanthaa-leanne @orokayagi @tumblingintothefeelstrain @sunbeamwrites @bnhawritten @bnhasidebin @lovekatsukibakugo @aizawamirite @plusultrawritings @bnha-violetnote @yuueimagines @suckersuki @heroes-landing @bnha-mha-imagines @heroesreverie @pink-imagines @brattyquirks @kazooli

#bakugou katsuki #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #katsuki x reader #bnha x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki imagine #bakugou katsuki one shot #bakugou katsuki fanfic #bakugou katsuki fanfiction #bakugou katsuki boxer #boxer au #boxer bakugou #my writing #morgan writes bnha

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jawabear · 4 years ago

Text

Silence your sins (Javier Peña x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: So I’m back at it again with the angsty smut, because that’s apparently the only thing I’m good at writing. I had the title but nothing else, but then this happened anyway. So I’m sorry it’s kind of a mess, but I hope you enjoy it anyway. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Smut, Angst

Warnings: fem!reader, drinking, tipsy sex, rough sex, confession, rejection, Javi is a prick, crying, mixed messages, Javi is an asshole. (But I still love him)

Summary: Javier Peña is a dick, but he can’t handle it when someone thinks diffenrly to that...

Javier sighed as he walked into the bar. Pulling off his tie he took a stool and ordered his usual drink. A whiskey. He supposed though that he didn’t really need to say what he wanted. He visited frequently enough for the bar tender to most likely know his order off by heart.

It wasn’t long before his drink was set down in front of him. He took a large swig and his eyes began to wander. He scanned every face in the bar, what he was looking for, he didn’t know. But his eyes stopped on a familiar face.

(Y/N) was the last person he expected to see drinking away her problems in a rundown bar like this. But he noticed she looked sad. He could see how the dim lights slightly reflected off a tear streak down her cheek.

Out of curiosity and also kindness, he grabbed his drink and made his way over to her, sitting in front of her in the booth.

“Out of everyone who works for the DEA, you were the last person I ever expected to see here” he told her taking another sip of his drink.

Her eyes flicked up to look at him but she decided that the label of her beer bottle was far more interesting. “Yeah..” she mumbled “well...I guess I’m a true DEA agent now, right?”

“What has brought you out here?”

She let out a sigh and rubbed her forehead “just...had a shit day”

“Yeah, I head Crosby really laid into you about going alone”

“It paid off. I got some more intel. But getting a talking to from the Ambassador was not worth the effort”

He let out a soft chuckle and raise his glass slightly “I’ll drink to that” she managed a smile as she clinked her bottle with his glass before they both drank down what was left of their drinks.

Drink after drink came and went as they continued to talk about how shit their lives were. It was not what either of them were planning but it happened any way.

They seemed to get deeper and deeper into their personal lives. Perhaps it was just the alcohol doing all the talking but they both revealed things that they wouldn’t normally share with anyone.

Her eyes met his as she pushed her now empty bottle to the side “you’re different Javi...” her words were slightly slurred from the alcohol but every word held truth “you’re different to the others. You’re a kind and gentle man...”

There was a moment of silence. They two of them just staring into each others’ eyes. And then it happened. She threw herself at him, smashing her lips to his and he didn’t hesitate in kissing back, his arms wrapping tightly around her waist.

He threw her onto his bed and yanked off his shirt before climbing back on top of her slamming his lips to hers. She let out a whine and brought her fingers to tug at his hair. Javi wrapped his arms around her as he sat in his knees “take off your clothes” he mumbled against her lips before pushing her back down to the bed.

She was quick to follow his orders, shredding off her clothes to his bedroom floor whilst he pushed off his jeans and boxers. They were now both completely naked but made no time to admire each other before they were back smothering each other in sloppy kisses and desperate touches.

“Let’s fuck” his deep voice rumbled through his chest making her moan and nod enthusiastically. Pulling her back onto his lap, she slipped easily onto his throbbing length making her moan loudly as she threw her heard back, his mouth latching onto her neck, biting and sucking at her skin.

He grabbed her ass as he encouraged her to start rolling her hips. So she did. He groaned against her skin as he began to meet her hips, thrusting up into her.

“Oh fuck Javi” she gasped, her fingers tugging on his hair.

“That’s it baby” he muttered “fuck just like that” one arm slid under her ass while the other one wrapped around her waist, pressing her chest right up against his.

“T-This is a mistake” she gasped into the air. He pulled his face from her neck as he slowed his hips.

“You want the stop?” He asked her quietly, his teeth tugging and her bottom lip. But she shook her head.

“N-No” she told him.

“Good, neither do I” he kissed her again and resumed his quick pace into her making her cry out and dig her nails into his scalp.

Javier pounded up into her as she tried in vain to meet his thrusts but she couldn’t. The pleasure was all too much and her mind was going blank. It was like the only thing she knew was his name. But that’s all she wanted to know. She wanted to forget about everything else and just know him. And he wanted the same.

Soon, his room was filled with the sweet moans and groans of pleasure from the two of them. The roughness he was giving her was enough to bring her climax close to her with each thrust, the same as with him. She could feel it. It was right there. And it felt so good.

“J-Javi” She panted.

“I know” he growled, sinking his teeth into her shoulder as his fingertips dig into her ass making her moan. “Fuck, come for me”

He grunted and she moaned again when he slammed his hips up into her one final time. Sending them both over the edge, her walls clenching around his length as he shot his come into her.

His lips found hers again and her hands pressed against his cheeks as he slowly lowered her to the bed. Her kisses grew slower and somehow more regretful as he pulled out of her and stood. Javi pulled on his jeans and grabbed a cigarette, lighting it up. She pulled the sheets over her body and could bare to face him now after what had happened.

She sat up with her back against the headboard of his bed as she stood by the window, staring out of it, the cigarette going unsmoked between his fingers. She bit at her nail as she stared at his bedroom door. She didn’t know if she was planning an escape. But she did know one thing.

“This was a mistake” she whispered, more to herself than to him. She was still trying to wrap her head around why had just happened.

“You said that” he muttered finally bringing his cigarette up to his lips taking in a long drag. “The doors open (Y/N). Feel free to go at anytime” She could tell in his voice that he didn’t mean his words. She could hear slight sadness in his voice. She looked over to him and saw how tense he looked. “You can leave just like everyone else...”

“How many other girls have you done this with?” She asked quietly as she ran her fingers over the sheets that covered her body.

He sighed and dropped his head slightly “fucking hell. Now really isn’t the time to get personal, (Y/N)” he stated.

“That’s what we’ve been doing the whole night, haven’t we?” She replied. Javi didn’t say anything back to this, he just continued to looked out the window. Looking and nothing in particular. “Have you ever been in love?” She questioned.

“What does it matter if I have? What’s it to you?” He grumbled.

“I’m just...I was only wondering...” she seemed to back down, noticing the hostility in his voice. But all of this was leading up to her being able to finally confess to him. She thought that now would be the prefect time to do it. But she didn’t know how. She needed him to let down his walls, other wise she knew he wouldn’t listen to her.

She slipped out of his bed and wandered over to him, gently pressing her hands to his back making him turn to look at her. “Does it scare you?” She whispered, her hands stroking over his strong chest. Her eyes flicked up to look into his, but she could see nothing in them. They just seemed...empty. “The idea of love?”

“(Y/N)-“

“Does it?” She asked again, not allowing him to speak. He could hear slight desperation in her words and he could see it in her eyes. She wasn’t going to let him get away with out answering.

Feeling the pressure from her gaze, he could answer in nothing but the truth “yes...” is all he said. Her eyes seemed to soften a little before she spoke again.

“I’ve always been so scared of falling in love. I’ve always been terrified of it” she whispered as she slowly slid her hands up his neck and to his cheeks, holding his face gently within her palms. “But the thing is...I’m not scared anymore. I love you, Javier”

Javi couldn’t help but let out a sharp breath. It felt as though someone had punched him in the stomach. His heart started to pound in his chest. He was overjoyed at her confession. But he couldn’t admit that, he couldn’t tell her that. Why? Because he believe it was wrong to love him. No one in their right mind would love him. He didn’t deserve it from anyone. Especially not her.

“I...I can’t say it back (Y/N)” he told her as he lifted his hands to take her wrists and pulled her hands from his cheeks “I don’t love you (Y/N). I don’t do love. It’s best for you if you...stop loving me. I won’t ever love you back” his words were slow, that just seemed to cut all the more deep inside them both.

He saw in her eyes how her heart seemed to break. How it shattered into tiny piece. Deflated. She had lost that sweet shimmer of happiness in those beautiful eyes. “Like you said...this was a mistake. We’ve been drinking (Y/N). I don’t think either of us were in control. It was just the heat of the moment”

She took a few steps back from him, her eyes filling with painful tears. (Y/N) swallowed thickly and walked back round to her side of the bed, scooping up her clothes and getting changed.

There were about a million and one things he could’ve said to her. He couldn’t easily told her the truth. The he did love her. That he had loved her since their first met. He could’ve pulled her back into his bed and held her all night long, whispering sweet words and feeling the way her lips pressed against his.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he just stood there. He stubbed out his cigarette but didn’t move from his spot by the window, watch her through the corner of his eye. She was quick in getting changed and grabbed her gun and badge from the bedside table.

“I was wrong Javier” she whispered stopping at his bedroom door for a second “you’re not different. You’re an asshole just like the rest of them”

He could do nothing but stand there in silence, listening to her feet padding away from his bedroom to the front door before it slammed shut behind her. His heart sank further into his chest. He desperately tailed after her, walking to his door and pulling it open but she appeared to have vanished completely.

Walking back into his apartment he fell onto his sofa and buried his face in his hands as he tried to steady his breathing and tried not to cry. He had never felt pain quite like what he was feeling in that moment. The image of her heart breaking was burned into his mind, it was all he could see.

He began to wonder if perhaps he had made the wrong choice...

14/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade @harrys-stan (let me know if you wanted to be added or taken off the list)

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfic #narcos #angst #smut #pedro pascal #fanfic

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jimlingss · 5 years ago

Text

Sugar and Coffee [Finale]

Chapter 22 - Chapter 23 [Finale]

➜ Words: 5.1k

➜ Genres: 99.5% Fluff, 0.5% Angst, Pâtisserie school!AU

➜ Summary: It isn't hard to be a pâtisserie chef, but it's not a piece of cake either. It seems like for you in particular, life keeps throwing in one wrench after another. It always finds ways to make your sweets bitter. The cherry on top is Jeon Jungkook — a rival with a sensitive sweet tooth who always finds ways to complain about you.

cr.

Baking is an art form. It takes more than just having ingredients and following a recipe. It’s the flavour, texture, taste, and the presentation. It’s knowing why when things go wrong and how to fix it. It’s knowing the right kinds of ingredients to pick, how much of each should be combined, what techniques and methods to use. Baking is therapy. Baking is scientific. It is art. The ingredients are as follows:

Fresh strawberries

White chocolate sponge cake

Sugar

Butter

Eggs

You place the fresh strawberries into the refrigerator as the stand mixer whips the six large egg whites and two cups of sugar. When it's combined, you place a bowl over a double boiler on the stove and whisk until the mixture is hot. You put it on your stand mixer again until the white chocolate swiss meringue buttercream is stiff. The cubed butter and white chocolate is added shortly after until it's smooth. Once you’ve got your components prepared, you slice the cooled white chocolate cake into two layers and set the bottom layer on a cake board on the turning cake table. You spread the meringue buttercream evenly with an offset spatula and layer the strawberries. Afterwards, you put the other chocolate sponge cakes over it and repeat the process. You finish the white chocolate strawberry swirl cake with white chocolate strawberries on top for decorative purposes and pipe flowers with a twelve inch piping bag. “It looks fucking incredible.” Jungkook leans over the counter, peering at the frosted cake you’ve just made. “It was supposed to be white chocolate raspberry swirl, but I know you like strawberries, so….” The boy grins, a wide smile that makes his big nose scrunch. “I love it.” You burst out into giggles. “You haven’t even taken a bite yet!” Jungkook begins slicing the cake. You’re proud of what you’ve made — but it’s kind of sad at the same time. This is the final product of your portfolio before it's ready for submission. You’re glad it’s over, but it also means your journey here is ending. It’s November now. And it’s been one whole year since your relationship with Jungkook shifted. A year ago — when the internship posting went up and you found out he was going to be your partner over the summer. When you were made his exam partner in your fine pastries class. When that Friday night happened and you bursted out crying in the kitchen, and he comforted you to no avail despite it being a cold night where the air bit his skin and turned his cheeks rosy. Where he bought you grape soda for no reason whatsoever other than a poor attempt at trying to make things better. It seems like it was so long ago, but it’s only been three hundred and sixty days. It makes you wonder what will happen a year from now or two or ten. “Not too sweet?” You watch your boyfriend’s expression carefully. Jeon Jungkook has his brows deeply furrowed with a thoughtful expression like he’s trying to give honest output. His fork is cleaned empty and it lowers to grab another bite. “It’s perfect.” He melts into a smile. “Maybe you made my sugar tolerance go up.” “Maybe because I improved.” You loll your head to the side, challenging him. “It’s almost as good as your chocolate-covered strawberry cupcakes, huh?” Jungkook scoffs lightly. “I wouldn’t go that far, babe, but we can all dream.” You sulk. “I’ll find out that recipe one day, Jeon. You mark my words and when I do, I’ll profit off of it.” He laughs, the sound tickling and boyish, causing another smile to rise onto your features. Jungkook digs in, having yet another bite and he lets his teeth rot with the sweetness. It’s not long before he remembers something, strides away with a hum and returns with a cold tray. “What is it?” you ask curiously as he sets it down and removes the saran wrap. “It’s truffles. I made it in my art of chocolate class, but it’s an original recipe. Give it a try.” He pushes the tray towards you and you don’t hesitate to grab a chocolate truffle. You would never, on any planet, deny the opportunity of consuming chocolate, especially when it’s made by Jeon Jungkook. You’ve never said it out loud before, but for some reason he always makes the best. No grocery brand or chocolatier can beat what he often bakes for you. So you try not to devour the truffle all in one bite, opting to relish and savour it. You take half of the truffle into your mouth and chew with the same consideration he had for you. And you’re surprised as the deep flavour melts on your palate. “Coffee?” Your brows furrow and you lick your lips. “Did you put black coffee into it?” “I was inspired by a memory,” Jungkook says with a soft smile. “What do you think?” “I love it,” you exhale in awe, finishing the bite and licking your fingers. It tastes kind of bitter, but it has a sweet note at the end. It’s bittersweet. But mostly ends up sweet.

Life with Jungkook continues. Lectures and workshops become more hectic the closer the end comes, but in between classes and late nights spent in the kitchens next to ovens, you and Jungkook still find plenty of time with one another. Or at least enough that you still have your dumb debates and have your hour of snuggling — which Jungkook regularly falls asleep during. The honeymoon phase of your relationship eventually fades away, but luckily it molds into a comfortable pattern that neither of you mind whatsoever. There are still knowing gazes shared across busy rooms, his hand that often comes on your lower back that you find security in, tender kisses shared when the two of you greet each other and bid temporary farewells. You still love Jungkook very much and you don’t ever find yourself afraid of him leaving you abruptly. Your relationship becomes normal too, so Yoongi and Taehyung has little to tease you both about. They instead relish in bullying Jimin when he ends up going out with a coworker of his at his new part-time job, much to the shorter man’s dismay. Hoseok, on the other hand, while no longer in a relationship, finds an interest in teaching and starts to look into what it would take to become an instructor. You’re happy for him and so is Aeri who tells you she’s considering going abroad someday to expand her culinary skills and cook more international cuisine. She keeps herself preoccupied by improving herself and becomes someone worthy of your admiration. But for the most part, things remain consistent and constant. There’s still bickering over lunchtimes and dinner times across the cafeteria table. Still nights of crashing Yoongi and Hoseok’s apartment and playing games. The five of you also start playing Dungeons and Dragons much to Taehyung’s delight who becomes the dungeon master — and while Yoongi always says he wants to stab himself halfway through every session, you’re sure he enjoys it as much as everyone else does. The memories made are ones you cherish the most. And before you know it, graduation has come. “You look beautiful, dear,” Jungkook’s mom holds back tears as she grasps your hands tightly. “Congratulations.” “Thank you.” “Come on, you two!” His dad suddenly calls, holding an old camera up to his chin. “Let’s take some photos to remember the occasion!” One hand holds your rolled certificate and the other holds your navy gown, you stand in front of the school sign with Jungkook who adjusts his black cap. He drapes his arm over your shoulder and the both of you tilt your heads towards each other and give the biggest grins. The camera flashes. Again and again. The corner of your mouth starts moving as your smile twitches. “How many is he taking?” “Just smile,” Jungkook mutters through his grin as both his parents, his aunt and uncle, Lia and Eunbi, and grandma look on proudly. “He’ll do more if you try to argue.” “Two more!” His dad shouts, despite taking another five. His entire family seems so elated that your heart swells with endearment. “I didn’t know your family would be so happy when you told them we were dating,” you murmur, switching your poses a bit. “You know, your grandma just asked me when we’re getting married.” “Really?” He glances at you and then scoffs with another smile that’s more genuine. “Be lucky she has half a mind not to start asking when we’re having kids. Unless…...” “I swear to god, Jungkook, if you get down on your knee in the middle of our graduation with everyone watching, I’m going to kick you in your shin.” He giggles, nose scrunched, eyes crinkled. It’s not long before Jungkook’s mother drags over Jimin overbearingly by the hand with Taehyung, Hoseok, and Yoongi for a group photo. There’re so many parents, family members, and phones and cameras being passed around that your plastered smile starts to break on your face. Everyone’s mother and their goddamn cousin’s cousin wants three copies of the same exact picture. “Oh my god, kill me now,” Yoongi groans but still has that dumb fucking grin on his face. He looks more like a kid showing off his braces or a grandpa who has his dentures stuck. You think he’s putting on that idiotic grin just to ruin the pictures — even his mom is yelling about it on the sidelines. “Just a few more,” Jimin whispers with more perseverance than anyone else has. “Who is even taking our picture, right now?” Hoseok asks, his brows furrowing. “Does anyone even know who that lady is?” “I think she’s the associate dean’s assistant who’s going to put it on the website.” Taehyung breathes out, his cheeks aching from his smile. “Either that or that’s my cousin’s brother-in-law’s younger sister’s friend.” “Alright, that’s enough.” Yoongi gives up and walks out of the frame. Everyone starts dispersing before there are protests and they’re rounded up for another pointless photo session. But after a while, you’re granted some freedom to roam around with Jungkook. There’s still a few more photos taken, ones with Aeri and classmates and teachers, like Miss. Kang, who you always liked. “I always knew the two of you could be close.” The female teacher has the cheesiest smile and you have to admit, you’re glad she never changed Jungkook’s internship like he wanted. In a way she’s like your matchmaker, but you’ll never say it out loud in case you give her more credit than it’s due. She already seems to know it anyway. “Good luck on your future journeys. You both have great potential.” Namjoon and Sejeong also show up to congratulate the pair of you as well. And they meet Jungkook’s family who seems to adore the couple straight away, asking plenty of questions of what their shop is like and if their son was in any way helpful. But while you’d like to stick around to hear all the conversations, it’s nice to take a break from the bustle to just walk on the paths that you used to take all the time with Jungkook. You don’t know what it’s going to be like when you leave this place. “Aren’t you kind of sad?” Your hand squeezes Jungkook’s and you turn to look at him. “Yeah,” he admits. “But I’m also happy we don’t have to submit projects or do exams anymore. I’ll miss the routine. Of being able to hang out with the guys and eat with them all the time. But they’ll still be around and I have you.” Jungkook’s gaze meets yours. His eyes are tender, soft. You smile at him. That’s right — this chapter might be ending, but you’ll still have many more with him. “Y/N!” There’s a call of your name and you turn to see your family waving at a distance. Your mom holds a flower bouquet, most likely for you and your cheeks swell with a smile. Your arm extended in the air to wave back and your steps quicken with Jungkook’s to meet them.

A lot happens after graduation. There are many changes and alterations. While you’ll still always be learning until the end of time, you’re no longer an official student and you’re thrown to the hounds called the real world. But it’s not all that bad. You get hired back at Kim’s Wedding Cake Company and work with Soohyun who’s returned from maternity leave. Yuna also sometimes joins during the weekends and much to your delight, she tells you that she’s enrolled in the institution as she had wanted. You can only imagine what kind of knowledge she’ll gain and stories she’ll end up having there like you did. But there’s not a lot of time to reminisce when there’s work and a ton to learn, but you find yourself enjoying it more than finding it difficult. Jungkook, on the other hand, doesn’t return to the company. He instead gets hired at a chocolatier shop not far from where you work. It’s only a ten minute walk down the block; five for each of you when you meet halfway like you frequently do for lunch. He tells you that he’s learning a lot, on what it takes in the artistry of chocolate, that there’s more meticulousness than what meets the eye. It sounds like an absolute nightmare to you, but he loves it — especially on the days when he smells sweet and there’s some chocolate smeared on his cheeks. And you don’t hate that he often brings you home truffles and caramels to try. The two of you also move in with each other, sharing an old apartment not far from your workplaces. It’s not much different from how you used to live on campus at different dorms, except now there are bills to be paid and Jungkook steals all the hot water in the shower. You wonder if this is what it feels like to be an adult. “Y/N?” There’s a familiar voice, but one you haven’t heard in ages. A smooth timbre that sounds light and humorous at the corners. You whirl around, regarding the tall man with dark hair, dressed in a dark turtleneck and a black trench coat. His sheepish eyes crinkle in his smile, lips pink and plush. “Jin?” A grin spreads into your face as well. “Oh my god! How are you? It’s been so long! What are you doing here?” “I live here, remember,” he reminds in the midst of squeaky giggles. “And I’m good. I’m actually on my way to a meeting. I’m working in management of Toute Pastries and Pâtisseries.” “Wow, working in commercial bakeries? That’s impressive.” But you’re not exactly surprised. You knew Seokjin always had it in him and you feel proud that someone you used to know has become so great. Seokjin laughs. “Not really. It’s kind of less hands-off than I’d like, but what about you?” “I’m good too. Just heading to my friend’s bakery.” You hitch a thumb over your shoulder. “Today’s the opening. Do you want to come?” “I’d love to, but the meeting starts in twenty. I saw the sign the other day though. The bakery is that place that was being renovated on Imlingss Avenue, right?” “Yeah. It’s next to the department store.” “I’ll swing by when I have some time then.” “When you have some time?” You eye him playfully and cross your arms. It might be inappropriate to be so sarcastic with an acquaintance, but being with Jungkook has made you more snarky than is probably socially acceptable. “So you’re a hot shot, now, aren’t you?” Luckily, Jin doesn’t take offence and simply laughs. “I swear I’m not!” It’s good to see him. You thought you never would again, at least not face-to-face like this. But what you least expected was that your conversations could be so light and natural. It isn’t difficult at all and you don’t find yourself uncomfortable nor holding any resentments. You aren’t sad or angry. It’s like seeing an old friend again. “I heard you were with Jungkook,” Jin says with the corner of his mouth quirked. “That’s a surprise.” “Isn’t it?” Whenever Jungkook used to come up in a conversation, all you ever said to Seokjin was how trash he was. But that was before you really knew anything about him. “But he’s great. An idiot sometimes. But it’s great.” Jin can see the happiness radiating off your face and it’s infectious. “I’m happy for you, Y/N.” He says it sincerely, genuinely, and your smile widens. “Thanks.” The both of you share a little more small talk before you’re on your way. And once farewells are said and done, you don’t look back or peek over your shoulder for another glance at him. You’re content continuing straight forward. “Sorry, I’m late.” The door chimes as it slowly shuts after you, the warm furnace heating the air and melting off the coldness of your skin. “Of course you’d be late.” Yoongi is in his black apron, white shirt rolled up to his elbows and his arms crossed. “We already took the photos, don’t expect that we’ll re-take them.” “A joy as always, Yoongi.” You smile at him, taking off your jacket and putting it on the coat rack at the corner. Jimin comes to greet you and you sigh softly. “Why’d you ever agree to open a bakery with him, Chim? You must be a saint to deal with his shit all the time.” “I heard that.” Jimin laughs. “Trust me, he kept on asking Jungkook when you would come. He’s all bark but no bite,” he whispers but it’s loud enough that Yoongi looks sorely unimpressed. The shop is cute and spacious. It’s rather modern with square tables and chairs lining the walls. The lights come from the sides of the fancy ceiling, and there’s a counter to check out at with a main glass case where people can choose pastries from. In the corner, there’s also several smaller pastry display cases where patrons can grab trays, tongs and fill up their own plates. You quickly greet everybody and then move to grab your one prized possession. “Lemon meringue pie?” Taehyung laughs, watching you put two on your plate. “You know I just have to.” You smile and sit at one of the tables, luckily having it on the house. Taehyung sits across from you. “Man, you’re so nice to let Yoongi have the entire recipe since it’s yours too.” He shrugs. “It wasn’t like I had any plans with it in the first place, plus it was Yoongi’s idea to add the secret ingredient.” “Which is?” Taehyung grins his infamous boxy smile. “Nice try.” “I’ll find out one of these days,” you warn. Taehyung handed you the recipe a long time ago but he conveniently omitted the secret ingredient and you haven’t forgiven him since. “And then I’ll be making it for myself every other night instead of giving my pretty penny over to Yoongi and Jimin.” “Yeah, good luck with that.” He leans back in the comfortable chair. “I’m sure Yoongi will be protecting that from you for the rest of his life. He might be willing to exchange information though if he can get his hands on Jungkook’s chocolate-covered strawberries.” Taehyung wiggles his brows, but you shake your head with a sigh. “He won’t tell me. I swear he’s holding it above my head so I can never ditch him.” The man laughs and takes a look around the new shop. Everyone is here — Hoseok, Jimin, Yoongi, Jungkook, Taehyung, Aeri and you — the entire crew with no one else missing. There are other people as well, sponsors and Yoongi and Jimin’s other acquaintances, but you muse how hard it is these days to gather up like you used to. Everybody was busy and on their own paths. Doing their own thing. But it’s what made moments like these more precious. “I would’ve joined them, should’ve,” Taehyung says wistfully with a sigh. “The original plan was actually Jimin, Yoongi, and I.” “Yeah, but you wouldn’t have been happy.” You take another bite of the pie, chewing in your cheek. “Yeah, that’s true.” “Do you regret it? Going back to school?” “No.” Taehyung smiles gently. “I love learning and I knew after graduation, I wanted to keep learning. I’m not as good at cooking as I am at baking, but it’s still fun and I think I’m getting better. The only issue is Yuna.” The man visibly and dramatically shivers and it elicits laughter from you. “Does she bother you a lot?” “Less like bothering and more like she literally pops up wherever I go,” he tells. “Sometimes I’m just minding my own business and then boom, out of nowhere, I turn the corner and she’s there. I’m starting to think she’s like a ghost or like….like…” “—a witch,” Jungkook finishes and then leans down to plop a kiss at the top of your head. “Hey.” “Hey.” You smile and he leans down to steal a bite of your pie, but you don’t mind much. “You’ll never guess who I saw earlier.” Curiosity gleams in Jungkook’s eye and you grin, wanting to put him suspense for a little longer. “I’ll tell you about it later, but is everyone grabbing dinner afterwards? I haven’t checked the messages yet.” “Yeah, we are.” Soon, Hoseok comes over and introduces his lady-friend that he brought with him as Naul. But you know through advice he’s sought through you a few weeks back that he’s been seeing her and taking it slow. It’s nice to finally meet someone you’ve heard about, and you find that her calm and collected personality fits into Hoseok’s quite well. You also meet Jimin’s girlfriend who is sweet and an avid talker about all things deli meats. At your surprise of how ham supposedly doesn’t taste as good as some other cold cuts, she insists that you and Jungkook need to have a double date with her and Jimin so she can enlighten you on the world of salamis — to which you agree needs to happen. She’s peculiar, but sweet and cute when she’s with Jimin. “So you’re really going?” you ask after Aeri confirms it. She had told you a month ago that she applied to study abroad and you couldn’t be anything but happy. Especially now that she’s just told you that she’s been accepted, you have nothing but eagerness for her. “Yeah, I’m a bit nervous, but I’m super excited.” You pull the girl into a tight embrace. “I’ll miss you, but have fun and stay safe. Stay in touch.” “Thanks and I will, Y/N.” She giggles against you and pulls apart. “I hear Amsterdam is really nice and my aunt keeps advertising it, so I’m looking forward to it.” “Apparently, those Dutch men are really something,” you murmur and she laughs. “You know, if I wasn’t in a happily committed relationship and with my dream job, I’d probably ask if I could come with you cause damn, they’re like a tall glass of water. You need to take advantage of that.” “Who’s a tall glass of water?” Jungkook approaches with a sorely unimpressed expression. It makes you go tight-lipped and Aeri giggles, slinking away before she’s caught in the crossfire. While you and Jungkook playfully bicker in the middle of the store and he grabs you in a chokehold and you tickle him — much to the shock of the other patrons who don’t know you — Yoongi looks on behind the counter with a displeased expression. Except that’s only his natural resting bitch face and not what he thinks internally. Or at least that’s what Jimin realizes when Yoongi says to him privately— “They’re a pretty good match, huh? Jungkook and Y/N.” “Yeah.” Jimin smiles, watching the two of you act like children. “They are.” It’s sad when the opening event eventually ends. The night comes and dinner is soon over too. Everyone ultimately says their farewells, waving before they go off on their own way and you linger just a moment until everyone’s gone. It’s nostalgic to be around them, reminding you of days that seemed simpler and easier, and when you were unaware of these facts. It’s sad to say goodbye since you don’t know when you’ll see all of them again. At one place. At one time. But at least you have Jungkook with you, so you’re far from being alone. “Don’t worry,” Jungkook jokes around, “They’ll be back for our wedding.” “When is that going to happen?” you scoff, looking at him and how his features are illuminated under the lampposts that you pass. You squeeze his hand in yours. “It’s a surprise,” he answers slyly. You grin. “And what if I reject you?” “Then I’ll be a very sad man.” “And if we don’t work out at all?” “Then we’ll still be best friends,” Jungkook says and interlaces his fingers with yours. “I’ll always be here for you. Because I’m lame and I think I’ll always be head over heels for you.” He smiles wide, bunny teeth revealed and features soft. “It’s a promise.” And one you believe in. Luckily, you and Jungkook never split. You end up getting married two years later with Aeri as your maid of honour and Taehyung as the best man — the brunette giving you so much anxiety with his spontaneousness that you nearly wish it was Jimin who was the best man instead. But everything ends up without too many hitches or difficulties. It’s hectic lives that you and Jungkook lead, but ones you love. Ultimately, the pair of you get a townhouse together halfway between the suburbs and the city. You wind up running Kim’s Wedding Cake Company with Yuna many years down the line after Namjoon and Sejeong step down to retire. And Jungkook achieves his dream of becoming a chocolatier and ends up getting silver in The World Chocolate Masters competition. The two of you have your first child together one drunken night when you both think it’s a good idea to have sex in your sacred spot — a professional kitchen. It’s the first and last time, swearing you’ll never do it again when you’re both on your hands and knees afterwards, sanitizing the entire area for fear of losing your jobs for the violation of health codes. But you end up conceiving that night and it’s the first of many kids — rascals with sweet-tooths. Life with Jungkook is a mundanity you could’ve only dreamed of. And you often count your blessings that you somehow ended with such a cheeky, lovable boy.

[Epilogue] “And that’s how I met your grandmother.” There’s a plump toddler sitting on his knee, slobbering as he babbles, and a slightly older girl sitting cross-legged in front of him on the carpet. She’s no more than five years old and blinks up at the old man with matching doe eyes. “So a stupid man dumped grandma and then you came in and saved her?” she asks in a high-pitched voice. “Essentially.” The old man nods and takes off his rounded spectacles to place on the small table beside his plush armchair. It’s his special seat for story time, placed under the picture frames of you and Jungkook over the decades, from your graduation to your wedding. “We were friends first and then started to date afterwards, but yes, it’s right to say I did save her.” “Like a superhero?” He grins and confirms, “Like a superhero. Now, do you know what the moral of the story is?” His granddaughter shakes her head. “No. What is it?” “The way to a person’s heart is through the stomach,” he declares with a smile. “If they like chocolate, you make sure you’re good at making chocolate. You like chocolate, right?” “I like grandma’s cakes!” she exclaims much to his amusement. “What nonsense are you telling her?” You’re leaning on the doorframe leading to the kitchen, sighing lightly as you shake your head with your arms crossed. Your hair is slowly turning gray, but you’re still as attractive — if not even more so. Jungkook always mused how much more beautiful you got the more you learnt and experienced. And he likes the wrinkles around your eyes, even when you don’t. It reminds him of how many times he’s made you laugh over the years. “Grandma!” Your granddaughter jumps up with a big grin that’s reminiscent of a bunny. She has big doe eyes that seem to sparkle in the afternoon light shedding into the cozy home. “Grandpa was just telling me how you guys met. He said he saved you. Is that true?” “I saved him, dear.” You pat her head gently. “Without me, your grandpa would be hopeless.” The older man at his armchair chuckles. “That is true.” “It’s time for lunch, you three.” You hold up your grandson and your granddaughter skips towards the kitchen. Jungkook staggers upwards from his seat with weaker knees and muscles that feel exhausted to the bone. He’s still in rather good shape though for just turning sixty three two months ago. Even when you constantly worry about him, he can still play catch with the kids in the backyard and put them on his back without hurting it much. When he comes into the kitchen, the two kids are in their seats and busy already digging in. His mug that says ‘Jungkook — World’s Best Chocolatier’ sits at the corner of the fruit place mat you bought at the thrift store. The letters of the mug are worn around the edges, handle chipped at the bottom, but it’s still his favourite. But Jungkook doesn’t sit down to eat just yet. He rounds the table and comes to the sink where you’re humming away. He leans his arms on the edge of the counter, standing right behind you and leans in as you turn your head. Jungkook kisses your cheek. “I love you.” You smile, the same one he fell in love with all those decades ago when you both were still young students who knew nothing about what was to come. “I love you too.” Much to Jungkook’s contentment, you lean into him, filling his senses with your scent as you press a soft kiss to his lips. And it’s not bitter whatsoever. It’s sweet.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #bts series #bts baking series #bts baking AU #bts baking!AU #jungkook x reader #jungkook reader insert #and with this the entire series is complete #thank you for reading #for those who read every single chapter and every single word I had to offer #I really appreciate following me for such a long journey and I hope it was worth it #:>

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uwuyangin · 4 years ago

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eavesdropping (bangchan x chubby! reader)

☆ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: after accompanying chan in the studio on your day off, you overhear a conversation he has with the other members that isn’t as pleasant as you would like it to be.

☆ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 + 𝐚/𝐧: this is for a chubby series i am doing for all members, so definitely stick around for updates! this is for my plus size babies so enjoy! also cursing and sensitive topics of weight up ahead.

——————————

Although it was a dream to become an idol and create music much like your boyfriend, you found it would be best to pursue a different career path. Being a foreigner was hard enough in South Korea, so you couldn’t find it in yourself to want to go through more stress. And with that, you kept up your studies and continued on with your major in a nearby university that was still in distance of seeing Chan whenever.

His schedule definitely wasn’t the most flexible, so it was rare to find days in which you both had scheduled off. You always took advantage of any time you had alone, and today was one of those days. With a lazy grin, you bopped your head to the new beat that Chan had been creating, knowing he had a talent for producing. Chan couldn’t help but to laugh at your expression, pulling your chair closer to him so he could be as near to you as possible.

“That’s really good, I’m excited to hear the finished product.” you spoke, setting the headphones down on the table. You couldn’t help but to notice the hands that were placed on top of your thicker thighs, the warmth radiating throughout your body immediately.

“I’m glad you think so.” he murmured. His voice was soft and hushed, his eyes cast down at you in a loving way.

“God, I missed you. I only have a few more things I need to do on this song and then we can leave for a little bit to go do something. I don’t want to be cooped up in here all day.” Chan said as he reached for the headphones you had placed down.

Your heart fluttered at that which caused a large smile to spread on your cheeks. “I’m so touched that you want to spend time with me.” you teased.

“Uh, duh, I want to spend every second with you.” he teased back, and laughed quickly after. Oh how you loved that cheeky laugh.

“I’m going to grab a water, do you want one?” you offered while standing and heading to the door. Chan nodded, then proceeded to work on his laptop. Rolling your eyes playfully, you headed out of the room and to the kitchen to grab some bottles of water.

Along the way, you spotted a familiar face and grinned. “Hey, Felix! How ya doing?”

The younger boy smiled widely and waved, placing his phone back in his pocket. “I’m doing well, I haven’t seen you in awhile.”

You chuckled at that and continued on with some small talk, catching up on anything that happened within the last time you both saw each other. It always made you feel at ease knowing you had another person to talk to fluently, since you were average with speaking Korean. It was refreshing to say the least. After it had been a good five minutes or so, you decided it was time to head back. Chan would probably start looking for you knowing it shouldn’t take this long to get a drink.

“I’ll catch you later!”

Felix nodded and waved you off as you went back on your way. For the first time in awhile, a smile painted your lips. These past few weeks of university had felt like the worst weeks of your life. Tests were growing harder as the middle of the semester had approached, and today had been your only break from the constant studying. Chan always had the ability to make you calm, and it made you realize just how much you needed him in your life.

As you neared his room, you could hear a couple of voices conversing in quieter tones. Growing closer, you could finally make up which voices they were which consisted of Changbin and Minho. Just as you were to enter, you came to a halt as your name popped up.

“I saw (Y/N) earlier today, I didn’t know you two were still dating. I don’t know what you two have in common, it’s a little surprising,” chuckled Minho. You could hear the sound of a swat and you could only imagine it was Chan hitting Minho.

“We actually have a lot in common, and I love (Y/N), why would we not be dating?” Chan stated, and Changbin could only hum in agreement.

Minho sighed momentarily after. “I thought you liked athetlicism in a girl, someone to work out with? It just caught me off guard, I guess.”

Your face scrunched up in discomfort, not knowing how to process this information. Is that really how Minho felt about your relationship? Not like his opinion really mattered, yet it still hurt especially because you always thought you two were friends. What came next really caught you off guard, though.

“She may not be the fittest person, but I love her and her personality. There are days where I wish we could work out together but I don’t know how to bring that up to her without it being insensitive, you know? At first I was unsure about it but I’ve definitely gotten used to her shape.”

“It sounds like you settled for her,” Minho spoke honestly. Changbin chimed in immediately after, disagreeing completely. “I think that’s a bit harsh.”

You hadn’t even taken into account the tears that were forming in your eyes. Those words were hitting you repeatedly in the chest, your breath being held in from fear of releasing a sob. You had always been sensitive to the topic of your weight, and the Korean beauty standards did not help. Every second that passed that you stood there became more and more overwhelming. Without thinking much of it, you quickly began walking to the entrance of the dorms, passing by Felix in the process.

“Whoa, where are you going so fast-”

The sound of the door slamming cut him off, and he stared blankly. What had caused you to storm off so quickly? Felix made his way to Chan’s room, seeing a few other members there. “Chan-hyung, why did (Y/N) leave so fast? Didn’t she just get here?”

Chan became alerted at the sound of this and saw that your bag was still on his sofa. You couldn’t go far without your things, at least that’s what he assumed. He cast a stare at Minho that resembled disappointment and huffed, grabbing your bag with him as he headed out the door. “I won’t be back for awhile, don’t wait up for me.”

Guilt began to settle inside of Chan as he wasn’t stupid. You were bound to hear the conversation whether he wanted you to or not. Never would he ever want to make you feel so worthless, and he honestly felt like a piece of shit. You always expressed to him that you were uncomfortable in your body, and he would instantly fight you on it that you were beautiful the way you were. Why did he even say what he said? He felt like an idiot. He took the elevator down, cussing to himself as it took its dear sweet time going down. Once it reached the bottom and the doors opened, he spotted your body leaving the entrance of the building.

“(Y/N)!” he called out before speeding out the door. Chan picked up the pace and caught a hold of your arm, stepping in front of you so you were blocked in from his body.

“Hey, baby, hey. What’s wrong? What happened?” he asked. His arms went to engulf you in a hug but you stood still, staring at the ground to avoid his gaze.

“I think you know what happened. . . “ you mumbled out.

Chan’s hands reached up to your face, brushing your hair out of your face gently. He could see the tears that were elegantly falling down your cheeks. You were so broken, he could see it very clearly in the way you were ignoring him. It honestly broke his heart at the sight.

“Hey, what I said in there- I do love you, I love you so much. I don’t care what size you are. I’m being fully honest. And who cares what Minho thinks, I don’t and you shouldn’t either.”

You grew a little irritated at that statement, glaring at the ground as you continued to avoid his eyes. “And what about working out with me? Have you ever even asked me if I wanted to work out with you? Or did you assume I couldn’t because I’m too big? Was I not what you originally wanted?”

Chan frowned. “I’m sorry I never asked, I am in the wrong for that. But you’re everything I could ever want and need. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Baby, I’m sorry.”

You nodded and leaned into his touch, your head bumping his chest. Chan took his chance and held onto you tightly despite receiving stares from the people on the street. His head reached down, placing innocent and tender kisses on your head. You knew deep down that Chan loved you, and sometimes he said stupid things. Who didn’t? What mattered most was his love for you, and you had to let it go.

“Let’s go out and do something.” he suggested. “I feel bad and I want to treat you to something.”

You smirked as you had a better idea in mind, biting your lip mischievously. You could remember that Chan’s room was the closest to the living area and kitchen, so you knew exactly what to do.

“Oh, I have a better idea.”

( one hour later )

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, CAN YOU STOP FUCKING SO LOUDLY?! JEONGIN DOESN’T NEED THOSE IDEAS IN HIS HEAD-” Jisung cried out.

“Nope!” you and Chan recited together. Payback was a bitch.

#kpop #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #bangchan #bang chan #stray kids angst #angst #kpop angst #fanfiction #reader insert #bangchan x reader #chubby reader #chubby

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