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thatbritishactor · 3 years ago

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Secret Santa Fic Exchange for @blanchedelioncourt

Take Me Apart (part 2)

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Summary: Your friends have been trying to set you up with Billy for a year now. Spending New Year’s Eve with him in a remote cabin might finally do the trick.

Type: Slow Burn, Mutual Pining, Idiots to lovers, “There’s Only one bed”.

Words: 2,700

Part 1

Take me Apart playlist

My Masterlist

It’s nearly 6 pm when you’re on your second round of long island ice teas. Karen and Frank just finished preparing the desserts for later. They’ve retrieved in the living room while Billy and you prepare his legendary homemade pizzas. You’re on dough duty while he takes care of the tomato sauce and toppings. He’s disposing cherry tomatoes in a bowl when he asks you an unexpected question.

“So, you seeing anyone interesting these days?”

You keep kneading the dough, a smile escaping your lips.

“No” you reply, wiping your forehead with your wrist, looking back at him “Just a bunch of uninteresting people”.

“Shame” he states, his dark eyes glinting. Something pulls inside your stomach when your eyes meet his, and you try to bury the feeling deep, focusing back on kneading.

“What about you, Billy?” you ask, making a ball with the dough before wiping your hands on the apron. Billy watches you, his eyes following your every move.

“Same as you” he answers before biting into a cherry tomato.

“You know, we’re supposed to put those on the pizza, right?” you ask, gesturing to the fruits in his hand. He releases a chuckle.

“I know, but these are so good. Where’d you get them?”

“Farmer’s market” you reply, facing him. You lean against the kitchen counter, putting your hands behind you.

A small silence settles, only disturbed by laughter coming from the living room. An alarm goes off and you jump, looking at the oven.

“The pecan pie” you remark.

“It’s okay, I’ll do it”. Billy slides mittens on. You watch him move, appreciating his precise gestures, the way his grey sweater hugs his toned torso and his arms, biting your lower lip. You check him out when he leans to open the oven, and he grabs the grid, and puts it over the stove. You approach him and look at the dessert, humming appreciatively.

“That smells amazing!” Karen shouts from the couch. You and Billy chuckle and share a glance; you swallow thickly when his dark eyes find yours. You step back and grab your drink, trying to recollect yourself. Frank steps into the kitchen, clapping his hands.

“Time for another beer” he gloats, opening the fridge.

“Still no long island?” you ask.

“Nah, I’m sticking to beer”

“You better drink the champagne I brought, tomorrow” Billy warns.

“Yes, Mr. Fancy Boy” Frank jokes, and Billy throws a tomato at him. Frank dodges it and leaves, laughing loudly.

“What’s about that champagne anyway?” you ask Billy, putting a cloth over the dough, and going to the sink to wash your hands.

“I’ve spent 500 dollars on that bottle”

You stare at him, baffled.

“500 dollars for that rube?” you exclaim, and Frank shouts from the living room.

“Who you callin’ a rube, missy?”

The four of you laugh, and Billy grabs both of your drinks as you join your friends in the living room. You settle on the couch in front of the fireplace, and Billy sits next to you. You try to focus on the conversation rather than the fact that he’s close to you, and that extending your arm would suffice to touch him.

You put your legs under you, and Karen suggests you play a game while the dough rests. After arguing over which game is best, you settle on King’s Cup. You quickly notice that Frank and Karen push Billy and you to partner up, and you’d be upset if you weren’t drunk.

Being tipsy makes you careless, and you appreciate drinking when Billy does, as if an invisible thread is linking the two of you. You try not to overthink and have a good time, something you’ve managed to do for the last year whenever you were hanging out with him. Being around Billy sometimes feels effortless: he makes you laugh; you share common interests and you’ve developed a good relationship. Other times it’s harder, especially when you feel weak and indulge in thoughts involving his hands, his mouth, or every other part of him you wish you’d have on your body.

An hour later, you’re all laughing and feeling relaxed. You take the final card, a ten of spades. You must start a category, and you’re lost in thoughts for a whole minute, unable to decide. Billy starts to pressure and tease you, calling you slow, and you throw the card at him.

“All right!” you shout, narrowing your eyes. “Category is the list of women Billy Russo has slept with” you state, turning to him and meeting his dark gaze. You’re surprised to find them shimmering, wondering how he’s feeling right now. Maybe he’s just drunk. Frank whistles before speaking.

“You know you’re supposed to pick a category we can finish tonight, right?” he jokes, and Billy throws a cushion at him while Karen snorts.

“Alright, I’ll start” you say, straightening your back and cracking your neck. “Stacy the bartender”. You turn to Billy, and he takes a sip, escaping your gaze. It’s Karen’s turn and she replies immediately.

“My friend Chelsea” she says, nodding. Frank looks surprised.

“You didn’t... She’s engaged!”

“She was.” Billy mysteriously states, and you cackle before putting your face in your hand. This category is good for you right now: you’re feeling especially attracted to him tonight and resisting the need to get close to him grows harder with each sip of your drink.

“Okay, alright. Madeline Rich” Frank states, and you nod. It’s Billy’s turn. You do several rounds, and Billy’s expression darkens with each name uttered by one of you. You start to feel a little guilty when he starts to fidget on his spot, stroking his eyebrow. It’s a gesture you’ve already seen him display whenever he was feeling nervous, and you decide to end the tour and pretend that you’ve run out of names of women. He seems relieved when you take a sip of your drink, indicating that you don’t have anything to add to the category.

The game ends and you spy on Billy from the corner of your eye, looking for signs suggesting that he feels uneasy or upset. His smile looks a bit forced, and you find him unusually stiff. Guilt infiltrates your bones, and you want to reach out to him and apologize for making him uncomfortable. You decide that you’ll do it later, preferably when you’re alone with him, unwilling to do it in front of the matchmakers. It would only make them even more unsufferable than they already are.

It’s time to make dinner and you set the table while your friends work on their pizzas. Dinner goes smoothly and you exchange anecdotes, playing the game two truths, one lie. You learn plenty about Frank and Billy, discovering that they were scout sniper specialists, and did several tours in Iraq. They amaze you with stories of war and camaraderie, and it’s a little after midnight when Frank and Karen decide to head to bed, leaving you alone with Billy. You decide to keep playing two truths one lie together, neither of you ready to go to bed yet.

“All right, my turn” Billy states after you’ve made him laugh with a childhood story involving you eating dirt. He puts his elbows on the table, leaning toward you, and makes the serious face he exhibits when he means business. His eyes shimmer when he speaks next, and you try to focus on his words rather than the things you’d like him to do to you.

“I have 134 confirmed kills, I grew up in a foster family, and I’ve never been in love”, he declares. The last affirmation takes your breath away, and you ponder on his words, the alcohol making your mind drowsy. You think for a few seconds, glancing back to him, and he grins. You blink a few times, refusing to be distracted by him.

“I think that the last one is true” you start, and Billy raises his eyebrows, still smiling. You bite your lower lip and keep going. “You growing up in a foster family sounds familiar” you think out loud. “And 134 kills seem like way too much for one person. I think it’s the lie”. You stare back into his obsidian gaze, a smirk forms on his lips.

“Actually, you’re wrong.”

You raise your hands in disbelief.

“Come on!” you shout, “What was it then?”

“I was raised in a foster home” he admits, his eyes wandering over the floor before falling on your face again. “Never in a foster family”.

“Oh.” Is all you say, and you lower your eyes, looking at your hands resting on your lap. “I’m sorry” you add, knowing how he’ll react next.

“It’s nothing” Billy replies, looking suddenly distant. You’ve noticed before that he seems to hate pity.

“You lose” he says, and you take the final sip of your drink.

“134 confirmed skills, huh?” you ask, willing to change the subject. Billy grins, and you sigh, relieved to have taken his mind off your last display of unwanted empathy. You both laugh and a comfortable silence settle, only disturbed by the crackling of the fire in the chimney.

“It’s pretty late” you acknowledge, “We should go to bed if we want to be in shape for tomorrow’s hike.” Billy hums in agreement, glancing briefly at the couch.

“We could share the bed, you know” you surprise yourself saying. Billy’s eyes find yours, and you find shock in his dark gaze. Your heart starts to pound in your chest, your slow mind only just grasping the implications of what you’ve just said.

“As friends” you add.

Billy nods before settling his drink on the table. “The couch is okay. I’ve slept on far worse.”

“I know, Lieutenant Russo” you tease, hitting him with your foot. “Still, we’re adults. We can behave, right?”

You wait for his answer, your heart beating wildly in your chest. The alcohol gave you the courage to be straightforward, but you anxiously wait for him to speak. You have no idea of what just came over you, because sharing a bed with him seems like the worst idea you’ve ever had. Somehow, part of you wants him to say yes, and you know that it’s the one you’ve been trying to silence for a year.

“Fine, I guess” he sighs, and you roll your eyes.

“I was just trying to be nice.”

“So honorable” he teases, and you get on your feet, grab the empty glasses, and bring them to the kitchen. Billy follows you silently, and you put the dishes in the dishwasher while he cleans the table and the kitchen counter. Once you’re done, you share an awkward glance, and you decide to head upstairs, hearing him closely following you. You climb the stairs, your heart sill racing in your chest, feeling adrenaline pulsing through your veins. Your stomach’s doing backflips, and your hands are slightly trembling.

You enter the bedroom and retrieve your pajamas from your bag, grateful that you chose you’re the prettiest set you own for the weekend. You try to breathe evenly and give him another look before heading to the bathroom. He removes his sweater, and you catch a glimpse of his toned stomach, your heart stammering as you turn over quickly and leave the room. You angrily brush your teeth, contemplating your life choices, blaming yourself for asking the hottest guy you know into your bed under the false pretense of friendship. What the fuck is wrong with you?

Why did you ask the guy you’re crushing on to share a bed with you? Are you a masochist? You shake your head, amazed by your own stupidity when you hear soft knocks on the door. Billy enters, holding his toothbrush, and you smile at him before leaving. You’re still trying to control your breathing and fast heartbeat when he enters the bedroom again, and you’ve already changed into your pjs. You slide under the covers, trying hard not to notice that he’s wearing a black shirt that makes him look even hotter.

“I sleep in my briefs, is that okay?” he asks, and you shake your head a hum in a high pitch, unable to control your own voice. You settle on the pillow while he walks around the bed and sits on it, removing his black jeans. You grab your phone and scroll through your messages, trying to distract yourself from the fact that Billy Russo sits half naked next to you.

You focus on your breathing, almost worried you might pass out when he slides under the covers next to you. Thankfully, the king-sized bed is large enough for you to fit in without touching. You sigh and put your phone on the nightstand, wondering if you’ll be able to sleep tonight.

“I hope that I won’t be too hungover tomorrow” Billy comments in a tired voice, and you glance at him to find him lying on his back, his eyes closed. You stare at his beautiful profile, detailing the way his hair falls at the sides of his face, a rare occurrence since it’s usually perfectly styled. You resist the urge to slide your fingers through the dark strands, admiring the shape of his cheekbones, his strong jaw, the beauty spot under his eye and his lashes.

“I know, me too” you reply oddly out of breath, and Billy opens his eyes, his dark irises capturing you.

“D’you want some aspirin?”

“So chivalrous” you remark, shifting on your side to face him, and putting your arm under the pillow.

Billy scoffs “I’m just tryin’ to be nice” he sighs, closing his eyes again, and you chuckle.

“Since when are you nice?”

He opens his eyes to roll them.

“Since always, you just have a lot of prejudice against me”, he replies, looking back at you. You stop breathing when your eyes meet, surprised to find vulnerability in his charcoal gaze.

“I do? Like what?” you inquire, genuinely curious.

Billy shifts from his back to lie on his side, facing you. You watch him move, your heart beating in your ears, and you’re afraid he might hear it.

“You think I’m shallow” he starts, almost in a whisper “Superficial, vain.”

You swallow thickly, your cheeks getting red.

“See, I’m right” he smiles, “You’re blushing because I’m right.”

“It’s not that” you close your eyes to escape his intense gaze. “I just… I don’t really know you” you lamely explain.

“Right, you don’t know me, so why do you think I’m vain?” he asks, his eyes roaming over your face.

You ponder on his question, wondering how you found yourself in this position.

“I don’t know, I guess I thought that anyone as attractive as you would be shallow” you admit, and you catch him grinning, his whole face lighting up, his nose crunching. He looks so much younger like this, his eyes shimmering with mischief, his smile genuine and beautiful, it almost breaks your heart and lures you in, making you unconsciously lean closer to him.

“What?” you ask, blinking. “What did I say?”

“You said I’m attractive” he exults, and you sigh and shift on your back and put a hand over your face.

“You’re a child” you grumble, and he guffaws in response. You glance at him and he’s still grinning like the idiot he is.

“Stop it” you lightly hit him in the shoulder, and he laughs even harder.

“What’s so funny?” you ask, and he puts a hand over his stomach, releasing a satisfied sigh.

“Watching you trying to resist my charms” he replies with the same unbearable grin, and you hit him again before shifting on your other side, your back on him.

“Goodnight, Billy” you say on a dry tone, and you feel him shift in the bed, wondering if he turned his back on you too.

“Night” he replies, and he switches off the lamp on the nightstand.

tag list:

You find yourselves in the dark, your cheeks still burning from the embarrassment, and you close your eyes and try not to think about Billy, his warm body, his stupid face, his dark eyes, or his strong hands, a few inches away from you.

Part 3

@hagarsays

@ohsorandomlyme

@stuckysdaughter

@aunicornmademedoit

@bat-revival

@mrs-brekker15

@fuzzymoggle

@sirius-is-hot

@londoneyes-glasgowbones

@vissidarte213

@daddy-firth

@aleksanderwh0r3

@nevertoofarfromivar

#ben barnes #billy russo #bbficexchange2021 #billy russo x reader #billy russo x you #the punisher #billy russo fanfiction #my fics #take me apart

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tundrainafrica · 3 years ago

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Title: How many colors can you see in the dark?

Summary:

"Darkness wasn’t pitch black. Darkness wasn’t nothing. It was a slew of shadows, lines and glimmers. It was a dark blue, a light blue in places and if she searched for it, a subtle shade of green.

Eyes were just constantly looking for something to see."

After the war, Hange and Levi start living together and Hangs notices something might be a little off about Levi.

Link: AO3

Note:

I know this is two weeks late but...happy birthday Shaila! Based on the prompt you sent ;)

Levi had always approached housemaking like it was a delicate art, a dance to master

Or maybe it was something he had mastered already.

Despite his small stature and his generally aloof demeanor, he navigated the kitchen with silent confidence, running his hands over each task quickly, efficiently and more notably, elegantly.

Elegant enough to catch Hange’s busy eyes for at least a few minutes a day.

Turning something as mundane as managing a house into an art was an admirable skill that Hange learned over the years, could never be replicated without the natural proclivity. And as long as it was Levi was involved, Hange seemed to be completely capable of giving her full attention.

And before she even realized it herself, she had mastered the subtle art of just observing.

She mastered it so well that when inconsistencies started to appear, Hange spotted them almost immediately.

There was a plate that Levi had settled on the counter with a louder than usual clatter and that was enough to ring alarm bells inside her. Then when the angry clatters, the awkward rhythm as Levi reorganized utensils became commonplace, Hange found herself watching every move more closely then listening even when she had know idea what she was searching for in the first place.

She surreptitiously kept her guard up, she followed his movements. She snuck glances when she was sure Levi wasn’t looking. Over time, acts as mundane as turning on the stove had Hange looking up, ears perked up, interest piqued.

Maybe she was just a little nervous that Levi might burn himself.

Levi knew the stove from the back of his hand, he knew everything inside and out from the vacuum cleaners, to the dishwashers, to the mops. She had never needed to be nervous before.

But the clicking of the stove as he turned the knob was just a tad slow. The plates continued to clatter instead of settling softly on the counter.

And when Hange observed the way he set the table, she couldn’t help but notice, the spoon was just a little closer to the plate than the spoon.

Something, a fastidious Levi would have never allowed.

It could have been the long observations, or just the broken dish that had started it all. It could have been Levi’s careful movements or Hange’s penchant for overthinking. For a while, she had even blamed herself for being overly zealous about how the house should be run.

Then understanding came out of nowhere one morning, as an abrupt yet taut curse from just a few feet away.

Fuck.

Hange’s reaction was almost immediate. “Levi? You okay?”

He wasn’t okay. Hange had stood up instinctively at the sound, her eyes following Levi’s hands. The latter had dropped the peeler onto the kitchen counter with a louder clack than usual.

“Let me take a look,” Hange said. Her pace quickened as she made more sense of the situation.

Out of instinct, Levi held his hand close to him, another clumsy mistake, considering the red streaks that pooled out of that tiny knick that started to leak into the white shirt underneath. “Fucking hell,” Levi let out another curse, that time as a hushed whisper. He pulled away even before Hange could get close.

“Let me take a look,” Hange repeated, that time more firmly. Instinctively her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowed.

Somehow, that combination of everything had been enough to have Levi just a little more obedient.

He didn’t pull away further. But he didn’t make it any easier either.

It was Hange who carefully unwrapped his fingers, exposing the raw skin underneath. She ran her hand over it as gently as she could, but still not gentle enough to prevent a soft, hesitant and begrudging whimper.

“I’ll get the bandages,” Hange turned towards the cupboard, pulling out the materials one by one.

The process of bandaging was slow and the air between the two remained unbearably silent. Hange had more than enough thinking space to notice it then, when it was right at her fingertips.

Levi’s hands have always been rough, they have always been crusty to the touch. But something seemed a little different about the scrapes, the raw red that seemed to climb up his wrists, settling in his palms.

Levi had always been careful, he’d never been clumsy, let alone accident prone.

But his hands seemed to tell a different story. Hange ran her hands over his palms as she worked, ignoring the winces, the way he tensed up at each slight touch.

Then she started to ignore the passage of time, only painfully aware of the questions, then the ardent curiosity that seemed to manifest as some heavy weight in the silent kitchen.

She had to let it out somehow, or risk having that weight crush her.

Are you okay? Even if she did ask that, would Levi ever respond with a straight answer? Her own experience with him said no.

She took a deep breath. “Levi…” Hange started, hands running through the bruising once again. “Did you fall somewhere?”

***

Levi never answered that question. And any attempt at pushing and prodding after that, came up empty.

He was quiet, and it turned out, keeping mum could have been as much of his talent as being careful. He could ignore Hange if he tried and he would mumble something to himself, and walk away.

He always found a way to feign or at the most even force himself into a state of deep concentration, enough to even convince Hange to leave her questions for another day.

Hange was never one to stay quiet forever. And the universe was only tempting Hange to push the issue.

Suddenly everything was a catalyst.

The broken plate was the first catalyst. Then accidents seemed to pop up more frequently, an awkward clatter worse than an awkward clatter or a broken rhythmThere were rhythm. There were broken platess, a bleeding cutss and crushed fruits. Strange accidents had become a common sight.

I’m fine. Levi had said the first time she asked.

Hange gave it a week. One week became two weeks when Levi insisted that he was fine.

Two weeks became three when Levi insisted he was just tired.

One month in, Hange’s own habits of observation have graduated to levels of almost accurate predictions.

Hange didn’t notice it for herself immediately. In fact, she noticed it in slow motion, in the way she tensed up as she started to make sense of her observations.

They were in the moment Levi’s eyes twitched, the split second long blink, and the way his hand hovered over the plate, the way his hands gripped for something so tightly Hange could have sworn he had to have been gripping something.

Something a little more tangible than air.

Hange didn’t have to squint or furrow her brows to see that nothing had been between his two finger tips. Yet, for a second, Levi still held the air in between them like it was a lifeline.

When Hange looked up, narrowing her eyes at Levi’s, she noted the flash of confusion. As quickly as he pulled back, it melted away to something more subtle.

That dumbfounded expression didn’t fall away for any longer. It stayed long enough for Hange to see everything about the way Levi had blinked rapidly for a few seconds longer, the awkward way he stepped back then the way he gripped the counter as he bent down to grab the plate.

He didn’t go quickly for the broken plate, he started to feel the ground and Hange was sure she could have been much quicker. She rushed next to him.

Levi had a headstart but despite that, Hange was moving alarmingly faster. “Levi… I’ll handle this,” Hange said, noting the awkward and aimless movements of his hands.

Levi didn’t even protest but something inside Hange had wished he did. He pulled back, reached above him for some support from the counter.

When Hange focused on the obvious signs, she was quick to conclud, Levi had never been that slow.

He had never approached cleaning with such painful hesitation.

The first time, Hange did stomach it but she never really was the type to sit back and observe. She always observed but after observing, Hange would act in the most logical, calculated manner.

“We’re going to the doctor.” Hange brought it up out over an uncharacteristic silence.

“No.”

That brusque response had Hange jumping in her seat. When Hange thought about it for a second longer, after ‘I’m fines,” and “I’m just tired,” a firm ‘no’ seemed almost ominous.

Levi wasn’t making things any better with the rash way at which he stood up, then teetered, his eyes hovering wildly over the table. He blinked hard, then he widened his eyes in some look of confusion or surprise.

When Hange bent over to look into it, he looked away. “I’m fine.”

“You know I can help with the laundry right? Or cooking.”

“Why do you wanna help so suddenly? Don’t you have work to do?”

“I do,” Hange admitted. “But even if you’ve always wanted to do it yourself... I thought I wanna help with house chores more.”

“That’s new,” Levi glanced at her accusingly.

Glanced. That’s what it should have been

Hange squinted, then her eyes scanned over his expression while aiming to recall every other moment he had made eye contact before.

Levi wasn’t glancing. His eyes could have been staring at nothing. Either that, or he could have been staring at something which Hange couldn’t see.

There was a blunt grey in his sharp blue eyes and before Hange even felt the damp tension in the room, the way it weighed on her lips, forced her jaw back, she took one deep breath. “Are you sure you’ll be okay? Doing everything on your own?”

“I’ve always done everything on my own,” Levi said. He pulled his chair back then walked slowly away.

He didn't finish his breakfast that day.

***

It was like a switch just turned on inside Hange.

The stronger the indignance, the more motivated Hange became. Soon, even the small things back home were pulling out the researcher from inside her.

Despite her chaotic personality, Hange always seemed to put some systematic process into something as complex as solving a problem and subsequently, getting into the bottom of someone as stoic as Levi Ackerman.

Define the problem.

Levi was just a little too clumsy.

Form a hypothesis.

That part was a little more complex. With a little more observation, a little more analysis, she noticed the small details.

The small details weren’t in Levi, in fact they were in the little changes in his surroundings. The spices and the groceries have always been arranged neatly but when Hange observed Levi’s movements, she noticed, he liked to hover his hand over everything before allowing it to land, on top of one cap, then he would grip the one right next to it.

The salt shaker was just a little smaller than the pepper shaker just an inch away. When Levi was done with the salt he put it in its usual spot.

In the exact same place.

Levi was meticulous. He always did it that way. But there was something unsettling about the way he gripped it hard before letting go, before hovering his hand over the jar right next to it.

“Here,” Levi said, dropping the plate gently on the counter.

Scrambled eggs with salt.

“Thank you,” Hange said as she pulled it towards herself. Most days, she had a book next to her, or a few documents to review before she left for the office. That day in particular, the documents were just for show. She watched carefully as he cleaned up, as he positioned the bowl right next to the plates, and when he set it, he let his hand hover, he let it gently fly over the other utensils.

As if he was memorizing where everything was.

But Hange couldn’t be too sure. She needed to experiment.

There was only one window to move and that was when Levi was in the shower.

So Hange called the office, mentioning something to Armin about being late, and about an urgent health concern.

She never called days off so Armin didn’t pry.

She opened the salt shaker and poured the contents into a bowl. She opened the pepper shaker and poured the contents inside. A few hand motions later, the salt was where it wasn’t supposed to be and the pepper wasn’t where it was supposed to be.

Then Hange lined them up. She could never be too sure if that was the exact sample place but it was worth a try.

The next morning, the experiment turned out to be very much worth it when Hange was served an omelette sprinkled with a little too much of something else on top.

“Levi, I asked for salt in the omelette right?”

“You always ask for salt,” Levi answered matter-of-factly as he picked at his own breakfast. “Is anything wrong?”

“Nothing… I just thought you put in a little too much.” Hange made a loud show of pushing the plate in front of him and it looked like Levi had been ready to make a show of something too.

He narrowed his eyes on the plate then nodded. “Sorry, I’ll put less salt next time,” he muttered, only proving himself what Hange already suspected.

“It’s fine, put as much salt as you want,” Hange didn’t even notice herself, not until she pulled the plate back towards her that her voice had deadened to smatterings of sound. She sliced the omellete into smaller places, mixing the black pepper with the gooey yellow just underneath then wondering for a second how Levi managed to so cleanly crack the eggs even when he could barely tell the difference between white and black.

The only way to ever find out is to ask. But there were more pressing things to ask at that moment.

Levi, are you blind? If Hange just went with her first instinct, maybe that’s what she would have asked.

This is pepper. That had been her second choice but with such a fragile moment right between them, that was no time for proving her own conjecture correct.

She went for an in between, a curious in between and she decided, it was up to Levi to take it for what he sees the question to be. “Levi? How much can you see right now?”

“I can see just fine,” Levi answered, once again straightforward and firm.

At that moment, he met her gaze with blank eyes, or at least, he attempted to meet her gaze. The moment Hange avoided his eyes, he didn’t follow.

She started to make sense of everything at once.

The strong denial, the lack of confusion, her omelette with a little too much pepper instead of salt and one strong inference later, Hange started on a new endeavor--- convincing Levi to see a doctor.

***

The disease wasn’t anything new and Hange was confident, she could have pronounced it and memorized it if she had put her heart into studying it.

As Levi put it, there were more pressing things to study than the sudden onset of failing eyesight. The doctors at least had been nice enough to put a prognosis on it.

The rules were simple, old people usually got it, Levi had just been terribly unlucky he experienced it decades earlier. It wasn’t common but it wasn’t unheard of either, even in the small island of Eldia. If Hange requested the documentation from Marley, if she made a quick visit to Marley, maybe she would have figured it out for herself.

Levi had shot down that idea though before Hange could have entertained it any further.

Even in the silence, in the bedroom, at two in the morning, even when Hange had so carefully padded towards the desk, Levi had seemed to have sensed it.

His voice rough, his eyes half open, he spoke up seemingly from out of nowhere. “No need.”

Whatever had hinted him to it seemed to have work, maybe even if it was just Hange’s own tense demeanor which she couldn’t so easily brush away.

In fact, Hange had been thinking about it. She had a half written letter for a leave to go to Marley. She had papers on whatever the doctors had even documented about the failing eyesight of elders, all scattered across the table.

But fading eyesight of elders was something not many people endeavored to cure. Levi's case was just too rare, and there were no other studies which made it worth white.

It was as if Levi had known that too.. “Hange, go back to sleep.”

He had chosen a convenient moment to say it. That exact moment where Hange had ran her eyes over the last few paragraphs of one of the files from the library.

No known cure.

“I’m reading something.” Hange disturbed the papers enough to release some loud rustle in the room.

“You wanna read it to me?” Levi asked. That was the first time he had ever asked her to read anything to him.

To Hange’s surprised, it sent some painful pang through her chest that seemed to settle in her stomach.

Suddenly, she was in no mood to read again.

“Actually, you’re right. I think this can wait until morning.”

***

Hange’s work in the office started to die down just a bit, and suddenly her mind was everywhere.

She allowed herself to ponder what the hell Levi was busying himself with while she was away. Did he get bored? More importantly, was he safe?

And a few times she did call home, only to get some form of ‘go back to work’ in a more and more annoyed tone with every call. The few times she stopped herself from calling, she busied herself with something else.

Piles and piles of paperwork, some of them were actual work and some of them were something that Hange would have classified as personal, hidden amongst a small pile of papers slightly obscured by the one Jean had left a while back.

Luckily, no one really asked Hange to clean up. No one among her subordinates seemed to have even made sense of the pile of paperwork and that was one thing Hange took advantage of.

After one call with Levi, where the latter had put down the phone a little too roughly, Hange quickly went through one of the letters she had written only that morning, to another doctor she had heard about through her network.

The few doctors in Eldia had deemed it incurable but Hange still managed to grip on to whatever hope came with a second opinion. The few researchers that had come back bore bad news but Hange was unfazed, there were still many other doctors, some in Marley, some in the Middle East, some in Hizuru.

Others had come back with nothing but affirmation that whatever research that had reached Eldia were the latest.

But Hange wasn’t giving up just yet. There were a few more she hadn’t sent yet.

She bent over, chin leaning on one hand. She knew the best way to write a letter and if she just let loose, she was confident she could make it sound as professional as the many other letters she had written before.

Somehow, the nth letter was harder. Somehow, writing that same letter when she had received too many rejections already was harder.

Was it worth it to still try? Hange took a deep breath, pressed the pen to paper and wrote out the first few words. It was like a script, when Hange gave into self discipline and to the mechanisms that kept working the past few years, she found it was easy enough to stay productive and efficient.

Doctor Wilken,

I hope you’re doing well.

My name is Hange Zoe from Paradis. I’m writing to you to inquire about a case…

Hange had gone halfway through, before the door to her office creaked open. The sound echoed, breaking whatever trance she didn’t even know she had been in and Hange jumped her seat.

“Did I scare you?” Armin asked, another wad of documents held close to his chest.

Hange eyed the documents and instinctively patted the empty space to the side of her desk. “Leave it on my desk.”

“This can wait until tomorrow.” Armin dropped the documents on the side and looked up at her expectantly.

��If it’s urgent, I could get started tonight,” Hange offered.

“The grocery closes at seven,” Armin volunteered.

At that point, she had been painfully aware that a lot may have changed about her work habits. How long had she been writing letters back and forth. More importantly, how long had she been frequenting the grocery on the way home?

Since the doctors had given her Levi’s diagnosis? Hell, maybe even before that.

“You notice I’ve been going to the market more often?” Hange said.

“Connie noticed it first. Then Mikasa,” Armin explained. He put his hands up in defense. “We weren’t stalking you or anything, but we used to see Levi in the market more… and when we started seeing you there, we got curious.”

Hange forced a smile. “I just thought I should pull my weight at home. I think I’ve been spending too much time working. Not too much time helping out.”

“Levi isn’t the type to get lonely though and I’m sure he does enjoy cleaning,” Armin said.

“He sure does,” Hange said. She kept whatever tone to herself, instead feigning some preoccupation as she shuffled mindlessly through the papers. “Still, we’re living together and taking care of the house is a team job.”

Armin nodded. “You know, you don’t have to work overtime anymore. Jean, Mikasa and I… The queen… Connie… we can handle most of the work. You should spend more time at home--- I don’t even think you ever got rest as commander.”

Hange sighed. “I’m gonna have to think about that. There is a lot I feel like I haven’t done yet. Gimme some time to think about that.”

“If you need anything else, just let me know,” Armin said. He bowed lightly and walked quietly out the room, leaving Hange to ponder that offer.

There were things she hadn’t done. There was a lot of work she still had to deal with but she didn't need the time to consider them.

It was an easy decision to make.

Soon enough Hange had stopped working overtime and she had started to spend a little more time cracking open books and reports from each doctor and writing letters in between.

Surprisingly, she didn’t feel at all guilty about shortening work hours.

***

The door of their home opened up to the living room and just behind it was the kitchen.

By evening Hange would find Levi either working at the kitchen, sitting at the dining table or lounging by the sofa.

On the rare days that he wasn’t, he could be in the laundry room.

That was her first thought.

There was something about the eerie silence though that had Hange walking ahead more quickly.

“Levi?” she called out.

There was no reply. The beating of her heart only turned wilder. Hange dropped her bag by the sofa and raced towards the laundry room, just beyond that, was the bedroom.

She didn’t have to go any further though. Levi was slumped on the wall of the living room. A pile of clothes lay toppled over and scattered on the floor right next to him.

“Hange…” It wasn’t a question. Maybe more of a statement. But to Hange it had just been a lifeless name and the blank expression on Levi’s face wasn’t helping it either.

“Hey, I’m here.” Hange bent over and started to pick up the clothes, resting them on one hand.

“Did they get dirty?” Levi pulled at one of the sweaters then held it close to himself.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll put them back in the closet.”

“No, but I need to know, do I need to wash them again.”

“You don’t have to. I’m not as much of a clean freak as you are,” Hange folded the clothes once again and piled them all in. Levi had done his part but Hange couldn’t help but note, in the span of her folding ten, Levi had only folded two.

His was still neater and most likely, if Hange hadn’t caught him, if that accident--- whatever that had been--- that left him slumped on the wall, didn’t happen. He still would have managed to fold everything.

She carried the laundry basket with one arm and lumbered over to their bedroom. Listening closely, she made out the hesitant and clumsy steps of her partner right behind.

“Levi, what happened?” she asked.

“I fell over, the basket fell over, I hit my head on the wall.” He kept his voice soft, his answers straightforward.

“I’ll get some ice. Just lay in bed,” Hange ordered.

That accident must have hurt. For once, Levi was completely obedient, not even attempting to reorganize the clothes on the basket and putting it inside the closet. He didn’t even answer, or crane his neck when Hange entered the room.

She dropped the ice pack on his outstretched palm, guiding his fingers to the top, where it was easiest to hold. “In the morning, if it still hurts, you have to tell me. We’re going to have to take you to the doctor.”

Levi had experienced worse. Explosions, man eating monsters and war. Regardless, just a strong smack to the right part of the head was enough to kill. Hange had worked long enough with army medics to know.

He gripped the ice pack only lightly and once again, Hange was tempted to run her fingers over his and grip his hands guiding them over it. It wasn’t a physical issue. Levi was still strong, she was sure of that.

Still, Levi was stronger than that, he always had been. Hell, he was dubbed humanity’s strongest for a reason.

“Hey, are you okay?” she asked.

“No. I’m not,” Levi admitted.

“We should see a doctor tomorrow then?”

Levi turned to his side, his front to the window. “It’s not that. It doesn’t hurt that bad.”

“But something else hurts right? Something you can’t explain?” Hange suggested.

Levi didn’t respond after that and Hange didn’t prod further. She started to reorganize the clothes one on top of the other, noting then how Levi had managed to fold them neatly into piles.

Hers and his, divided like they’ve always been. Staring for longer than usual, not having to consider the day in front or any other things, she started to note that there was a slight difference.

There were small stains on the white, some white on the red and just colors where she didn’t remember having them been before. “Levi, maybe we should get two hampers, a light and a dark one? So you don’t mix them up?” Hange suggested.

Silence.

Hange turned back to the hamper, the clothes still untouched, clumsily folded on top of one another. She brought it back to the bed and held Levi’s left hand towards her.

“You want me to teach you how to tell the lights from the darks?” Hange asked.

Levi had been holding the ice pack to his head for the past few seconds and he turned to Hange, eyes half open.

“Sit up.” She pulled lightly at Levi and it turned out, she didn’t have to pull for long. That order was enough to get him to a sitting position.

“I’ll teach you the lights from the darks,” Hange said. She pulled out one of Levi’s sweaters, a pure white with a few colored spots from washings. “This one is your white sweater…” She started. She guided Levi’s fingers through it, pressing his fingers closer on the areas where the threads bunched together, making up some intricate design.

As she guided his fingers through, as she felt his fingers pinch at it, she started to notice it herself. The seams, the hems, the collar, they all gave the sweater a unique character, and the color was starting to seem almost negligible.

“I can still tell the whites from the darks,” Levi said.

“How much can you see?”

Levi nodded and gave her a wry smile, the first in a long time. “Just enough to pick up some colors.”

“I think you may have mixed some of the lights and darks together. ,” Hange said.

Levi seemed deep in thought for a second. “It’s dim in the laundry room. When it’s darker, I can’t see as much, maybe that’s it,” he explained. He pinched at the hems as he spoke, running his hand quickly over it, as if trying to distract himself. “I just have to do better at figuring it out.”

“But now...” Hange said. “If you can’t tell the whites from the darks…”

“I can. It’s just harder to tell at times.” Levi hummed. “Let me try to explain it… When in a room, I don’t see anything. But in a well lit room, like now…” He paused for a second longer.

Hange was starting to get impatient. “Like now?”

Levi fell back on the bed and stared up ahead at the ceiling. “Hange, tell me, how many colors can you see in the dark?”

***

She did the laundry again that night, particularly for the more dirtied bundle.

In the dim laundry room, she closed her eyes for a moment, just for long enough to understand it herself. Her eyes would naturally search for light and in the darkness, they still seem to find it.Yet, Hange was sure that that was the closest thing she could get to total darkness.

Once she finished, she retired to the bedroom, turned on the lights of the room once again. Unlike before, it did nothing to wake Levi or even have him stirring, half asleep. His own condition had actually made him a better sleeper over time.

Hange put whatever dried up clothes back in the closet and just to answer the burning question for herself, she didn’t turn off the lights. She fell back on the bed, just like Levi had done hours ago. She closed her eyes tightly and the lights above stayed within range for just a second longer and the longer Hange made sense of herself, the clearer it started to become.

Darkness wasn’t pitch black. Darkness wasn’t nothing. It was a slew of shadows, lines and glimmers. It was a dark blue, a light blue in places and if she searched for it, a subtle shade of green.

Eyes were just constantly looking for something to see.

How many colors can you see in the dark? The darkness was endless and Hange was sure, if she looked hard enough, she may even see every shade in the spectrum.

That should be the same for Levi right? Hange thought to herself. She turned to a sleeping Levi, tracing the lines under his eyes, the tense jaw and when she stared for a little too long, she was cruelly reminded, the difference was right there.

She could open her eyes when she grew tired from searching for colors. Levi couldn’t.

An attempt at an awkward apology, Hange turned towards Levi, pulled herself closer, pressed her forehead on his, found rhythm in his breathing, picked out the moment the rhythm broke. Then there was a light brush on her cheeks, light yet ticklish enough for Hange to just ponder for a second how long Levi’s eyelashes really were.

She let out that laugh that tickled at her throat and she pressed her lips against his.

“You can stop now. I’m awake,” Levi’s lips pulled up into a smile. “Why are you laughing?”

“Nothing,” Hange answered almost instinctively.

“You never laugh at nothing.”

Hange sighed then she turned on her back. “I was just thinking about something.”

“About…”

“You know, there are things the eyes can’t see right? But are still very much there?” As soon as it came out of her mouth, all to a dead response, Hange realized, it wasn’t funny at all.

It had never been funny. It was just a glimmer of hope and she just hadn’t felt a glimmer of hope in a while.

***

There were colors in total darkness. There were colors the eyes couldn’t see but they were colors that the ears, the nose, the tongue, the skin had no problems making.

Getting Levi acquainted with them was a daunting task.

It took weeks to get Levi familar with the hems of each sweater, the collars of his shirts and the areas were seams split wide enough to make a noticeable dent just between his fingers.

Soon enough, Hange realized, Levi didn’t need the dent, or he didn’t need the areas were the strings awkwardly bunched up together. Sometimes the areas were the threads lined up perfectly were enough of a hint.

How Levi could have figured it out, Hange could never tell but progress was still progress.

The work at the kitchen continued, the cleaning continued and most days, Hange could pretend it was just like before. If she avoided looking closely at how Levi’s hands hovered lightly over surfaces, how he pressed his hand against the wall before he made a turn, she could pretend he was just slightly clumsier than usual.

And most days it did work. Levi was always improving, getting used to whatever view he had every morning. Sometimes, she could even pretend he wasn’t struggling at all.

A ripple in whatever progress they set for themselves came as a knock on the door and a surprise visit.

It was a lazy Saturday morning, Hange was lounging on the couch, Levi was preparing lunch when they first knocked on the door.

“Is this a bad time?” Armin asked.

It wasn’t and Hange didn’t think it ever would be. The cadets always had a special place in her heart. She didn’t need too much to reassure Armin. She let the wide smile play at her lips, she then let her head cock to the side.

“You wanna stay for lunch?” Hange asked. She turned to Levi who was looking up at them too, his eyes wide with surprise.

“We can make a little more,” Levi volunteered.

Armin shook his head. “No thank you. Mikasa and I will be visiting Eren’s grava after this. We just wanted to drop some things over.” He dropped the plastic bag on the coffee table and turned to Levi. “It’s been a while. We don’t see you go out as much anymore.”

“Hange offered to help with groceries so there’s no need to,” Levi explained, his expression completely deadpan, enough of a reminder for Hange that they never did tell anyone about.

“I noticed you’ve been sending a lot of mail… to doctors I think? And I saw you’ve been reading a lot of medical books so when these were sent over to the office, I thought you’d want them as soon as possible. They arrived at the office this morning.”

“From where?”

“It was sent with a letter apparently, from the medical society of Marley,” Armin explained.

“Yeah, I requested that.” Hange settled on the sofa and ran her hands through the package. The medical society of Marley was one of the most technologically advanced yet somehow, had been the most difficult to contact.

She unwrapped the packaging to find books. A quick look at the cover and Hange found they were case studies. She ran her eyes over the cover, then quickly through the pages. She took a deep breath.

Nothing at all about a cure, yet many pages about management, symptoms and cases. Then she ran her hand over the letter. She ripped the envelope open and unfolded the letter with one flick.

Hange had always been a quick reader but she only needed one second to realize, she didn’t need to read the rest of the letter.

Her eyes had only been searching for one word, cure.

No cure. That was the only answer she found..

“You okay?” MIkasa asked. Suddenly, she was right next to Hange.

Hange only needed to feel the hand on her shoulder and to see the surprised look on MIkasa’s face to accept it as truth. She was trembling, she was shaken. And for just a moment, Hange was feeling hopeless.

“I’m fine. Just a bit disappointed with the research I was doing.” “If I may ask… what research?” Armin asked hesitantly.

Hange managed a shrug and an almost uninvested expression. “Something about being able to see colors in the dark.”

And it looked like that had been enough. Mikasa and Armin didn’t prod more deeply than that.

Apparently, the disease would progress. Maybe over months, maybe over years but eventually, the subject would become completely blind.

The literature called him a subject but the word subject had always felt cold and calculating. Hange didn’t like the word patient either. He was Levi and he would always be Levi.

Tired of the negativity, the coldness, Hange put away the books, somewhere where even Levi wouldn’t find it to somewhere even she would need a chair to reach.

To hell with it, she wouldn’t be missing it for a long time. She was in a new stage of the process, the grieving process, the denial process, the acceptance process, one of those.

Either way, one thing was sure, it still fucking hurt like a bitch. And in her own way, she knew she had to find a way to shake it off. She opened the door then before leaving she let out a final greeting. “Just going out for a bit!” She said loud enough that Levi should hear.

And she slammed the door behind her. To clear her head, Hange went out to the streets and made the calming journey around the block.

They lived in a quiet residential area within what used to be walled Sinna, conducive for walks any time of the day. And Hange had learned over the years, keeping to some steady rhythm when she walked, keeping her breaths relaxed, she could easily take back whatever control she had lost.

Hange then tried another trick.

The end of the block led down to a downward slope and right in front of her was blue sky, framed by buildings on both sides. Out of instinct, or maybe just out of a burning curiosity Hange hadn’t tapped into yet, she closed her eyes.

Blue. Her view behind closed eyes was a light blond for just a split second.

Light blue but it never turned a dark blue. Then she started to search for contours between the light and the dark, then shapes, some of the perfectly geometric, other almost incomprehensible blobs.

Then Hange took a deep breath. The early autumn air around her seemed to tickle at her nostrils, the rustle of the leaves seemed to brush at her ears. Her lips were dry and they tasted a little bit like metal.

“Excuse me.” Of all things, it had been a passerby just behind her who had pulled her out of her trance.

“Sorry about that,” Hange responded almost instinctively. She moved to the side of the sidewalk, stood by and watched.

And having just fallen out of the last trance, suddenly Hange was finding anything to focus on. “What’s that big bag?” Hange asked, biting her lip soon after. Who the hell asks that out of nowhere?

“It’s a guitar,” the stranger asked matter-of-factly. If she had been at least a little offended by Hange, she didn’t show it.

In fact, the conversation seemed to flow a little more easily after that. It turned out there was a shop only a few minutes away, long enough for that instrument to draw Hange in.

She was out for an hour longer than she had expected. That one hour though was long enough to pick out a guitar, pick out some easy sheet music and guidebooks.

Hange came home late that evening but with two hands full with impulse purchases, brimming with newfound excitement.

***

Even in the deepest blackness, there were colors that shone clearly.

You just have to look for it. Hange whispered to herself, an attempt at self motivation.

One bout of serendipity and Hange found a new way to pass the time, that same time she had used up messaging every researcher and eye doctor in the international network.

In the evenings, she was reading tabs and sometimes, she was trying out the different chords, allowing her fingers to slowly get used to the soft nylon of the guitar, and the riffs which were unnatural to the touch.

One week into it, she was making music but admittedly, she was a little sloppy. A day or so after that, Hange decided to pick the sound for herself when she closed her eyes.

When she graduated from awkwardly pressing riffs and hearing unnecessary splats as she strummed, she opened up the lyrics.

And she only had to sing it once to feel the almost consoling burn in her throat, the rush in her cheeks and just her chest full, brimming with some cross between excitement and relief.

Eyes closed, hands moving, she seemed to see more colors, some colors she swore she had never seen before.

“Hey, can you sing that song?”

“Which song?”

“The one you sing on the balcony.”

Hange let out that wry smile. She looked away in instinct as she felt the blood rush up her cheeks, only reminded a second later, Levi wouldn’t have seen it. “You can hear it? I could have sworn I closed the door.”

“I still heard you, perfectly clear,” Levi retorted.

Hange cocked her head to the side, suddenly feeling like a five year old stealing from a cookie jar. Then she wondered, why the hell she had been hiding it in the first place. In her decades of managing squads and armies, somehow, she wondered how she made a mistake out of a stupid yet simple decision.

“I wanted it to be perfect before I let you listen,” Hange admitted. “But now that I think about it, maybe you would have enjoyed the process… of me learning?”

“I wouldn’t know if you don’t let me listen.”

Levi rarely made eye contact with Hange those days. There was no reason too when there was nothing to connect with. At that moment, he seemed to have deliberately met her gaze with his own unseeing one, an expectant look on his face.

Even before Levi had voiced the request, Hange was sure, she could never say no. She padded to one end of the room, taking the guitar hanging that sat on one of the shelves, and pulled it close to her.

“It’s an easy song,” Hange warned.

“Music is still music,” Levi said. “Besides, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you sing.”

Hange played the opening chords, slowing down just a bit as she felt the bed shake, then a warm body pressed on her back. Levi had lain on the bed, pressed his forehead to her back, or that was the quickest guess she could make as she concentrated on coordinating her still very amateur fingers.

The opening chorus passed peacefully. To Hange, that was enough of an achievement.

“What’s the song?” Levi asked.

“Ir’s called ‘You are my sunshine.’ There was someone who met me at the music store and she recommended that since it’s easy to learn. Is it too mushy for you?” Hange asked, stifling a nervous laugh.

“It sounds just fine to me,” Levi said.

Hange saw that as a cue to continue. She strummed again, opening with a few chords then the first verse.

Even laying on the bed, seemingly unmoving, Hange seemed to sense investment, attentiveness from Levi. Maybe Levi was just waiting for his own chance to speak.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away,” Levi let it out as a whisper but Hange couldn’t help but pick out the remnants of a melody that seemed to die at his throat.

“Maybe if we sing that line enough times, it might just work.” A shoddy attempt to lighten the mood. It was only after the second verse did Hange realize how depressing the song actually had been. She turned to Levi, an apologetic smile on her face.

“I still see the sun you know,” Levi said. When you open the windows in the morning, or the curtains, I still see the white, sometimes I see yellow. When the sun rises, I still know that it’s morning.” Levi was surprisingly talkative or Hange suspected, there was something about how she was carrying herself that Levi could have sensed from his place in bed.

Hange pushed the guitar right under the bed, and lay in bed next to him. “You told me before, you still see other colors. But it still hurts right?”

“It does,” Levi admitted.

“Then you don’t have to pretend it doesn’t. What I wanna do is I wanna try to enjoy whatever is still there,” Hange reached her hand just a little to her left, close enough to just grip at his fingertips. “But i won’t be able to help, if you don’t tell me what you want to work on.”

Levi hummed for a second. “Work on your guitar skills.”

“I don’t need that reminder. What else?”

“Just help around the house more I guess…” Levi’s voice lacked fervor and Hange wasn’t at all convinced.

“You can think harder than that,” Hange responded firmly.

Levi didn’t respond immediately. And maybe the silence between them had worked to rack Levi’s brain. His answer was unexpected, simple but it seemed to make sense. “I want you to describe things to me.”

“Things?”

“How our house looks like, how the outside looks like every season, how you look like.” Levi answered. “One day,I’m going to forget how everything looks like, the colors, the trees, our house.... What if I told you, I’m scared of forgetting how you look like?”

It was easy enough to give. “I’m still here. I’ll look in the mirror and I’ll tell you how I look like,” Hange said. She stood up, walked towards the mirror next to her desk, making out whatever she could under the dim moonlight. “Big nose, always chapped lips, messy brown hair, small eyes.”

“Did you know, your eyes are bigger without your glasses.”

Instinctively, Hange pulled out her glasses, only to be greeted by whatever blur she had become in the mirror. “I can’t see it now.” But she was a quick thinker. Hange pressed her fingers to her good eye, tracing her eyelids then her bags underneath.

It took a little more than a few seconds to thread through them carefully and she could never tell if they really were big without comparing them to anyone else.

It wasn’t about what she saw though, it was about what Levi wanted to see.

She walked back to the bed, holding Levi’s hand between her finger and she pressed his good hand to her eyelids. “Will this let you remember?” She only had to guide his hands through her eyelids before he took the reigns. His hands travelled lightly over her lashes, then to the bags underneath, resting heavily and long enough for Hange to feel the pressure to her bones.

The hands fell to her large nose, then as if falling over a cliff, they fell almost quickly over her lips. Suddenly, Hange was self conscious of how dry they were.

“You should lick your lips more,” Levi whispered.

Hange couldn’t even find the right moment to let her tongue out and lick them. Levi’s fingers stayed for a second longer on her lips, heavily enough that it was difficult to even mouth words in between.

Still, she attempted. “Have your lips always been dry?” She pressed her own fingers to his lips,

“You’ve kissed them before right?”

She saw that as some cue to draw nearer and maybe it was. Levi didn’t turn away or pull away. Instead, he did his part and their lips locked.

Levi’s lips weren’t dry. And Hange wondered how many times they had kissed, how many times they had even touched lips yet it had never been so much as even a passing thought.

Eyes closed, she felt it, she tasted it then she relished the in betweens. In complete darkness, there were still colors to expereince, colors to see. It was just a matter of finding it.

Levi’s hands fell forward, landing on her neck, then down to the collar of her shirt.

She didn’t want it to end there. Hange held his hand just an inch away from her, before guiding it down towards the buttons of her polo and Levi got the message.

He held both hands a hairs breadth away from the buttons of her shirt, then pressed at them slowly one by one. Despite not having any visual aids, he still had close to perfect coordination.

He then pulled at her undergarments, delicately and slowly and Hange did her part. She pulled at his own sweater, flinging it to the side of the room before falling next to him on the bed.

“Do you want me to describe anything for you?” Hange offered.

It was late at night, the room was dim save for the moonlight, there wouldn’t be much to talk about beyond their bodies half naked right next to each other. Still, if Levi asked, it would have been worth a try.

“No. I’ll figure it out for myself,” Levi said. Once again, his hands were pressed on her face, this time tracing her cheeks. They sat for a second on the cheeks just below her eyes, before falling onto her chin.

Somehow, by just the movements of his fingers, Hange could pick out a little of what he could have been seeing. Levi didn’t have to see it for her to feel it.

He had pressed his fingers over the apple on her cheeks then right down to the dimples underneath and even in the darkness, the circular movements seemed to goad whatever smile out of Hange.

“Are you done?” Hange asked, keeping her voice light, keeping the laugh in them very much apparent.

“How long will you give me?”

“Take as long as you need,” Hange said, The last thing she would have wanted would be for Levi to forget.

“How much will you let me do?”

“We’ll do what you want.”

Levi smirked. “You’re pretty generous tonight.”

“I have one condition.”

Levi raised his eyebrows. “What?”

“After this… after everything we do tonight, I want you to tell me about it. Tell me about everything you see in the dark.”

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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djarinbarnes · 3 years ago

Text

me olvidarás - eight

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Pairings: Javier Peña x female reader

Warnings for the chapter: jealously, angst, smoking, talk about STD’s, cursing, bad coping mechanisms, 18+ smut, grinding, brief oral, fingering, vaginal sex, Javi’s dirty talk, biting, choking, two idiots.

Word count: 5.1k

Summary: an undeniable warm summer vacation in Bogotá. simply trying to get away from your nosey, boring parents and live for once, you meet a man who impresses you beyond where your imagination could ever take you.

a/n: hi. i hope you like this chapter. it was.... kinda hard to write, so I hope you like it!! as always, thank you to @mcngata for aiding me with the whole spanish thing. I love u boo!

previous chapter · series masterlist

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“¿Y qué tenemos aquí?”

You don’t know how to react to the woman standing in front of you. She’s just a little shorter than you, her tan skin slightly glistening from the heat outside. The swells of her breasts are bared, and her stomach is visible where her top doesn’t meet her short skirt.

You pull your cardigan tighter around your body as she shoots daggers into you with her eyes. You gulp, holding the door as closed as you can to shield yourself from her prying eyes.

“Um… Excuse me?” You manage to croak out, and she lets out a laugh before she’s raising an eyebrow at you. You did understand some from the telenovelas you watched at home, but it was sparse and limited. She’s chewing on a piece of gum, and you watch as her red lips part slightly with every chew.

“¿Cómo te llamas?” She nods at you, and you chew on your lip, finally getting a hang on what she’s saying as she slows down. You tell her your name, and she lets out a huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “¿Y dónde ha recogido Javi a alguien como tú?”

You don’t know how to answer her, or if you even want to answer her, so you don’t. You shrug your shoulders, and you just know she’s enjoying your obliviousness. To protect yourself a little more you close the door a little further, shielding more of you from her. “Can I take a message?” You offer, and you watch as she laughs, her laugh full of viciousness and venom.

“Puedes decirle a Javi… ¿Que cuando deje de jugar con mojigatas, sabra donde encontrar una mujer de verdad?” You know exactly what she’s saying, but you also know that it probably isn’t the best idea to say anything at that moment, so you play dumb. She can see the confusion on your face, and she laughs at your expression. You didn’t like this woman one bit. You still wondered what she could possibly want with Javi.

“You tell Javi,” her voice is also overly sensual in English, her thick Spanish accent lingering in the words, making your heart pick up the pace. “That Helena is looking for him. I need to talk to him. He has my number,” she grins, popping a small bubble with the gum in her mouth before she turns on her heel with a wink, leaving you dumbfounded in the entryway of Javi’s apartment.

You spend the next few hours wondering who this Helena woman was, and how she knew Javi. You knew it probably wasn’t any of your business, yet you couldn’t help yourself. She was beautiful, a pretty little thing and you were sure everything was sitting right on her. Just looking at her for those short minutes, and with the confidence she carried, you were sure they had slept together. And more than once.

You stuff a full, cold enchilada into your mouth, not caring about the way you’re eating since you’re alone. You’re savoring the juicy chicken, holding the back of your hand against your mouth as you chew. You don’t know what’s come over you as you swallow everything down.

You had no idea why you felt this way about an encounter you’d had with this woman. Maybe you were just feeling possessive over Javi, which you had no reason for. It wasn’t like you were dating. You sigh and rub your hands over your face, resisting the urge to sob and cry out.

Glancing up at the clock you realize it’s nearing dinner time, and even though Javi hadn’t asked you to make dinner and even though you’re somewhat mad at him, you make your way to the kitchen to pull out a few pots and pans to make something for when he returns from the office.

You had no idea how long it took to file a report, but you figured it could easily be a drawn-out affair. You decided to leave at 8 if he weren’t home by then, to save you the trouble of coming face to face with him, after your flurry of thoughts and the internal struggle you’d had for the past hours.

You cast a look to into one of the cabinets from where you’ve seen Javi pick out a pack of cigarettes, and you give into the temptation of smoking one. You feel like the whole situation with Helena has made your heart pick up the pace so erratically, you need something to calm yourself down with, even though nicotine probably wasn’t the best antidote. With shaky hands you pull out one of the cigarettes before placing it between your lips, shortly after coming up with a lighter, holding the flame to the tip of it.

You know the first inhale is the worst, so you settle on just a short puff, drawing the smoke into your mouth and inhaling just the slightest of the fumes. With an exhale you realize it isn’t the worst taste or feeling in the world, so you bring the cigarette back to your lips, drawing in a bigger intake of the smoke. You feel it this time, and you cough just a bit at the burn in your lungs.

The taste isn’t the same as when you’ve tasted it on Javi’s tongue. It’s much stronger and harsh in your own mouth, especially since the filter is doing nothing for the tobacco. You look through his fridge and drawers, coming up with enough ingredients to make some chicken with veggies. The cigarette between your lips is disappearing quicker than you would’ve liked, but you figure you just must live with it.

With a sigh you stub out the butt into the ashtray, before you start making dinner. The chicken in browning on the pan, and you’re chopping up some carrots when you hear the door being pushed open, and you sigh in relief when you hear the heavy puff of air leaving Javi as he steps into the threshold. Casting a look at the clock, you find the time to be 7:43pm. Saved by the bell…

“Hey,” you say over your shoulder as you hear him put away his keys and jacket before he’s kicking off his shoes by the door. Then you hear his belt buckle coming undone before he discards it against the floor as well. You feel his arms come around your middle and you feel him tense up – and you know he can smell the nicotine on you, even though he smokes himself.

You decide on not mentioning it if he doesn’t initiate the conversation. “Could get used to this.” he breathes into your neck before he leaves a kiss on your shoulder, letting go of you to set the table. “It isn’t every day I eat a home cooked meal.”

“Was it alright at the office?” you decide to try and make small talk, Helena still nagging at the back of your mind. You weren’t going to bombard him with questions at the first given moment, mainly because you were hungry, but you figured it might be a sensitive topic to him. And on top of that, you didn’t even know what the two of you were, and ultimately, it wasn’t your business.

“It was… like it usually was. Boring and the director was yelling my ear off for the documents being incorrectly filed…” He sighs as he recalls the way he pushed the files off the table to ravage you on his desk like a horny teenage boy. “I managed to sort it all and file the report, though.”

“Oh. That’s good.” You keep it at that, and Javi realizes you’re acting very differently from when he left that very morning. He figured you were acting differently the moment he entered the apartment, since you didn’t come to greet him at the door, like he’d hoped you would have. He’d imagined so many things while at work, and every thought had alighted something inside him.

The first thought had roamed his thoughts as he’d gotten into his car, the way you’d straddled him in the very seat he was now sitting in, and he felt the blood rush to his lower regions. Then he’d somehow heard the sounds you’d let out that very morning when he’d both fucked you and eaten you out right after.

God damn, he wanted to go back into his apartment and take you on every surface, but he knew the odds weren’t in his favor. It was both the world and the director of the DEA that was on and against his ass, even though he was still technically on leave. The problem with the director was, that when she asked you to jump you didn’t say yes or no, but how high.

He even had to excuse himself and act on his arousal a few hours into the paperwork, feeling like a teenage guy yet again as he jerked himself off in the stall to the thought of you. He didn’t know what’d come over him – he just felt the arousal clouding his mind at every moment he was awake, and especially when you were around him.

Yet now it felt off. He didn’t even know why you were acting so differently, since everything seemed to be so comfortable and enthralling when he left. Where he earlier felt like you looked at him like he was the only man in the world, it now felt like the two of you were in the last stage of a relationship, just before parting ways.

Like Javi hadn’t faced a situation like that before. Falling out of love was never easy no matter who it was with and how long it had been. He hadn’t even made his own mind up yet, about the whole situation with you. Everything was moving along so quickly; he had a hard time keeping up. Especially every time he reconsidered your age.

You heard him say your name and you turned off the stove, before turning your head to look at him for the first time since he entered the apartment. “What’s going on?” his voice is full of something you can’t place, and you really do contemplate on either lashing out or doing it in a calm way. You know that no matter what he says, you’re going to overthink it.

“Helena came by.” The moment the words and her name leave your mouth you see his Adams apple bop as he swallows past a sudden lump that has formed in his throat. “She was very intent on you finding a real woman, possibly her, when you were done screwing around with a prude like me.”

You watch as his brows furrow, and you feel your eyes fill with tears. You turn around immediately, not wanting to show him just how much her words hurt you. You hear him breathe out your name along with a hermosa, and you let out a sob. You really didn’t want to admit how much of an impact her words had had on you.

“Helena?” her name falls from his lips reluctantly, like he can’t believe what you’re telling him. “Helena was here?” You can her the anger in his voice, and you nod while wiping your eyes. You hear him come closer to you, and you flinch when he reaches out to touch you. “Did she say anything else than that?”

“She just asked how I knew you.” You sniff, and you feel his arms come around you again, pulling you into his warm embrace. You know you should probably give in and wrap your arms around him, but you just can’t bring yourself to do it. What if he was seeing his Helena woman as well? What if he was having sex with someone else, while he was having sex with you?

You suddenly feel dirty. It dawns on you that you and Javi haven’t used protection at all while you’ve been having sex, and you feel your head going through every emotion all at once. Fear of you contracting something from him. Anger of him leading you on. Disgust with the thought of him having sex with someone else.

Sadness from the mean words Helena has spoken to you. And sadness in the form of you trusting Javi, and him proving that you probably shouldn’t have. You have a hard time focusing on anything at the moment, and you know your body is protecting you from a possible anxiety attack. You know the signs by now, and with the rapid rise and fall of your chest and the blackening before your eyes, you know it’s close.

“I haven’t seen Helena in months, not since…” He trails off, and even though you should probably believe him, you have a hard time doing so. You don’t know what to think at this point. “Come on, I’ll explain it to you.” He takes a hold of your hand and leads you to the couch, where he pushes you down on the soft cushions of the leather couch. He sits down beside you, with a few inches separating you. You appreciate the gesture.

“She’s one of my informants at the embassy,” he starts, and you immediately imagine a hundred things in your mind at once. Informant? Informing him about what? “DEA stands for Drug Enforcement Administration. We’re working towards catching some of the more… hardheaded drug lords in this country.”

It doesn’t catch up to you before now. The bullet wound to his shoulder – your thought about him chasing bad guys… It all clicks right at that moment. The man in front of you chases dangerous criminals for a living. “If you want to know things about them…” He sighs deeply before revealing the next part to you. “I figured you have to hang around the same people they do.” He’s reluctant to add the last part, but when he does you don’t feel much better. “The same women they do.”

“So, she’s a whore?” you hate the word, but you also hate the woman who was at Javi’s door a few hours ago, so you have no problem calling her the profanity. You watch as he nods, his teeth tugging his bottom lip in between them. “Are you…” you have a hard time asking him, but you know you must, considering you haven’t exactly been safe with him. “Clean?”

Javi’s eyebrows furrow at your question, the whole change of subject unsettling him for a second before he catches up. “Yeah.” It’s nothing more than that, so you raise your eyebrows at him. “I usually… use protection with the… informants.” You almost wish he would just say the word, as it if would make you feel better. It kind of feels like he’s sparing himself from the reality of the occupation the women have, and it makes you even sadder.

“Good.” You leave it at that before you rise, walking back over to the stove to reheat the food you were making when he came home. You can’t stop thinking about the information he’s just shared with you, but you also just want to forget she was ever there and that you could just go back to the happy little bubble you and Javi were in that morning.

“You don’t wanna hear the rest of the story? Why she’s coming here, knocking on my door?” Javi speaks to your back, and it really does feel like he’s just talking to a wall. It’s like his words peel off of you, like water on a brick wall. You feel sort of… emotionless about the situation.

“Maybe later.” It’s all you can muster at the moment, not really wanting to sympathize with the whore. Somehow, you just know Javi is and always will be a womanizer. His look, his attitude, the whole way he carries himself. It’s a match made in heaven.

You finish the dinner with your back to Javi, sensing the heavy smell of nicotine lingering in the air from where Javi is still sitting on the couch, puffing at a cigarette. You move the pots and pans to the table before you walk over to where Javi is sitting, his hands rubbing at his forehead while the lit cigarette is resting in the ashtray in front of him.

You lift it to your lips and take the last drag, before stubbing it out right in front of him. “Dinner is ready.” You tell him, your exhale full of smoke before you turn on your heel, grabbing two beers from his fridge. You watch as he rises from the couch, his eyes on you as you open the two beers before sitting down opposite of where he’s still standing.

No words are spoken between the two of you as you eat, and for the first time, the silence between the two of you is deafening. The space between the two of you is filled with uncertainty and unspoken words as you both fill your mouths. Javi rises in the middle of dinner to retrieve two additional beers from the fridge, and you hear the clinking of the bottles as he removes the caps.

He stands beside you as he sets the newly opened beer beside your empty bottle before the hand previously containing the bottle rests against the expanse of your shoulder. You draw both your lips into your mouth and close your eyes as you feel the warmth of his palm seeps into your skin from on top of your clothes.

“Hermosa.” You feel as his hands move, and when you open your eyes, he’s placed himself on the seat beside you. “You need to know.” You turn your body slightly, urging him to try his luck. “Helena…” you the sound of her name spilling from his lips makes your heart pound faster in your chest.

The emotions encapsulated in his brown eyes are unlike anything you’ve ever seen on him before. You can see the internal struggle he’s fighting at the moment, and something tells you it’s not easy for him to… tell you what he’s about to tell you.

“A few weeks ago, Helena was… kidnapped. And what they did to her, the men…” It’s like the whole incident replays before his eyes as he tries to find the right words to phrase anything. “It wasn’t good. I found her there, naked, molested by those men.”

Javi bites the inside of his cheek as he, again, searches for words. “Since… then, she’s been seeking me out frequently. Whereas it was previously me that sought her out, it was like the tables had turned. She got… obsessed with me. I don’t know why.” Your eyes shoot down as you sense movement, and you watch as he reaches for your hand. Reluctantly, you let him.

“Listen, I don’t know what I’m going to do about it. She obviously doesn’t understand a no.” You bite your lip, still not wanting to look at him, just to keep him at an arm’s length. “Hermosa, I swear I…” With everything Javi has just told you, you still don’t know how to feel about it. On one hand, you want to slap him, even though it’s not his fault.

A few minutes pass in silence, where neither of you make the moves to neither move nor speak. You let your tongue clean the outside of your teeth, contemplating on whether to take another sip of your beer or actually talk to Javi. You let out a breath before looking back up at him. His eyes are trained on you, watching you like you were the most important thing in the world at that moment.

“Sounds like you’ve got some serious lady troubles, Javi.” The sound he lets out is something between a snort and a laugh. You can barely contain your own laughter as Javi practically doubles over on top of you in a fit of tears and laughter. All the anger you’d held in for the previous hours had disappeared and had simply been replaced with… or gone back to affection.

When he pulls back, his eyes are full of tears from the laughter he’d just let out. You lick your lips and smile when he finally stops laughing. “Please forgive… whatever that was. Forgive me.” You nod before he leans into your personal space, nudging your chin up with his nose before leaning in to place a kiss on your lips.

You pull him closer by the neck, nuzzling your fingers into the hairs at the nape of his neck as you slide your lips over his. It feels good to have your lips back on his. No matter how much you’d wanted to punch him in the face not more than an hour ago, that had all dispersed when he’d actually opened his mouth.

“You’re not…” he sighs. “Mad. Are you?” he breathes against your lips, and you suppress a small smile playing on your lips. You shake your head slightly, before you breathe a soft no against his lips. Without saying anything, his lips find yours again, more eagerly this time.

With a fall of his hands to your hips, he’s swiftly getting on his knees before you, pulling your loose-fitted pants down your legs swiftly, his arms quickly spreading your legs on either side of his hips before pulling you close to him and into his lap. Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, drawing a moan from his lips and into your mouth.

You feel every thought you’ve been overthinking during the day go out the window when he grinds himself up into you, letting you feel his hardened cock. Every common sense within you is telling you to stop, telling you to leave while you still can, yet your body isn’t complying at all. That, and your own mind is fighting itself as his lips move down your throat.

You throw your head back to give him more access, whimpering as his mustache and lips grazes against your sensitive pulse point. You feel heat bloom in your core, spreading from your abdomen and throughout your body. Your toes are tingling by the time his lips reach your collarbones, your fingers trembling as you hold onto the back of his neck.

His hands move on their own accord as he pushes your cardigan off your shoulders before he’s detaching his lips from your skin, swiftly pulling off your shirt before reattaching them to the bared skin of the swell of your breast. His fingers are soft as they trail up the expanse of your spine before he snaps the clasp of your bra open before pulling it off your arms.

He grunts against your skin as he ruts his hips up into yours, one hand grasping the back of your neck gently while the other holds your hip tightly. He places a constellation of kisses against your bare breasts, twirling his tongue around the perked bud, drawing a moan from your lips.

“Come, turn around.” His voice is hoarse from arousal as he speaks before he rises on his knees slightly. You get off his lap and turn on your knees, and you lay your chest against the chair you were previously sitting on with a push of his hand to your shoulder.

You brace yourself against the seat of the chair, feeling as the fabric of your panties are slid down your hips. You hold in a breath as you feel his exhale on the globes of your ass, your exhale shaky as your feel his tongue gently slides in between the lips of your pussy.

You have no idea how something so carnal can feel so good, but you’re not going to be the one to complain. You whimper as his warm hands spread your cheeks apart to give him more access to your pussy before he delves further into your folds, burying his tongue within your heat.

“You taste so damn good.” You hear him speak between his tongue flicking at your clit and fucking you with it. You whimper as he pushes a finger into your slick heat, curling it downwards to the front of your cunt. With every thrust of his finger and every moan spilling from your lips, he grins against your skin as he moves his lips to the globe of your butt cheeks.

You feel his teeth sink into your skin before he kisses his way up the back of your ass, all the way up to between your shoulders. His fingers retract themselves from your heat and you feel him shift behind you, you hear his groan from behind you and you assume he’s cleaning his fingers with his mouth all while pushing his pants down.

There’s something about seeing you bent over a chair like this that ignites something inside him. Seeing you so bared and vulnerable and spread out – just for him. His cock twitches at the sight of your clenching pussy in front of his eyes.

“Please…” He grips your hips as you push back against him, urging him to get on with what you’re expecting him to do. You hear his low grunt in your ear as he pushes against your opening, causing you to let out a whimper. You grind your hips back again, whimpering as the head of his cock fills you just the slightest.

Not even a second passes until he’s burying himself to the hilt within you, causing you to let out a throaty whine. His hand comes around to grasp your throat, his fingers tightening just the slightest around the column of your neck.

“More, move please, Javi.” You whimper, his grip cutting off your air supply gently as he starts thrusting his hips into yours rapidly. His pace is unrelenting as he ruts his hips into yours, your whimpers and moans begging him for more.

“Te gusta eso, eh?” his voice is low in your ear mixed with his grunts and the feel of his teeth sink into your shoulder. You whimper at the many feelings coming over you all at once, mixed with the deep voice, full of arousal. “Sí… Sí, lo haces…”

“Javi…” you whimper, your hand coming up to grasp the back of his neck as the other clings to the leg of the chair. You felt as the hand on your hip slid to the front of your body, his fingers sliding through the wetness practically dripping from your core and onto the floor.

Javi coaxed at your nub while still withholding the pace he had set, swiftly pinching your clit to feel you clench around him. The hand on your throat made its way into your hair, fingers tightening in it, turning it into a makeshift ponytail before pulling your head back harshly.

Your back is pulled roughly against his front, his hips still driving in and out of you as his fingers continue their assault on your bundle of nerves. Your slick is just about dripping down the insides of your thighs and your chest is heaving violently at the inability to even put together a sentence.

“Estas tan caliente por mi, goteando por todo mi jodido piso…” his lips are right at your ear as he speaks, and he grunts as you clench around him. His thrusts become erratic as he pushes his fingers against you faster, quicker, almost demanding you to cum with his actions.

You want to cum desperately, you need to cum on his cock, just as much as he needs you to explode around him like you did that very morning. Just the thought of the events of the day brings something out in Javi – something that makes him even more keen on drawing you to the edge.

Maybe it’s anger, or maybe it’s just possessiveness overcoming him as he feels you soak his cock even more. You let out a scream, your walls clutching his cock ever so tightly everything blackens before his eyes. He sinks his teeth deep into your shoulder as he empties himself into your begging heat.

You go slack against him as the aftershocks of your orgasm rolls over you, yet the feel of his arms around you makes the violent trembling in your body seem like the most amazing thing in the world. His chest is warm and sweaty against your back, and his breaths come out as deep puffs against your skin.

You turn slightly and push your lips against his, feeling a drop of sweat from his forehead land against your cheek as he kisses you with relentlessness. “Didn’t…” you breathe, his arms wrapping tighter around your middle. “think of you…” he’s intent in his kisses by now, not wanting to be separated from you at that moment.

“As the possessive type.” You finally manage to breathe, and you feel how he tenses up against you. You let out a short laugh as he pulls out and away from you, huffing as he pulls his pants back up from around his knees. You raise your eyebrow at him as he grunts while standing, his hand resting just above his knee as he stretches his legs.

“I’m not possessive.” He huffs again, licking and biting his lips as he watches you shift on the floor. He can see the mixture of your cum pooling on his floor as you continue sitting on your knees, your legs spread slightly. You let out another laugh before standing, pulling him close by the neck boldly.

“Yeah you are. But you’re also afraid.” You turn and pick all of your discarded clothes off the floor before putting them on. You know he’s watching you, you can almost feel the holes his eyes are burning into your body as he gulps.

“Afraid of what?” he tries softly, and you barely hear it. You turn to him as you pull your cardigan on before crossing your arms over your chest. You watch as he mimics your stance – crossing his arms over his chest as he raises his eyebrow at you.

Ever since he shared the details of… whatever had happened with Helena, you’d known instantly. There was not much to say to it though, because with the knowledge you’d gained from reading your novels… That much you knew. You knew the signs, and they were clearly visible in the man standing right in front of you.

“You’re afraid of love.”

･ ⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･ ⠄⠂⋆ ･

next chapter

#javier peña #Javier Pena #javier peña x reader #Javier Peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #pedro #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal x you #ME OLVIDARAS

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9tzuyu · 4 years ago

Text

children of tragedy [pt.2]

note: hi. i totally did not mean for this to be a filler chapter but thats what it ended up being :(. i hope you guys still like it though. this is mostly natasha x reader (platonic), so maybe that’ll make up for it? lmk your thoughts!

mistakes are mine as always.

warnings: talk of alcohol abuse

pt. 1 | pt.3

🏷 @peggycarter-steverogers @blackxwidowsxwife (tagged since its nat centric)

when you left in the middle of the night while wanda slept in the other room. you didn’t bother waking her to say your goodbyes, instead wanting things to be quick and simple. telling wanda goodbye would only prolong that process.

you did, however, leave one last sticky note on the kitchen table for her to see when she woke up. it was nothing over the top, just a reminder to make sure she ate and took care of herself.

(and of course your signature smiley face at the bottom of the paper. she loved your odd little version of a smiley face.)

you packed a bag separate from everything wanda put together and stuffed it to the brim with bare necessities. clothes were replaceable. what you had with wanda was not. besides, she probably wouldn’t mind keeping a few of your sweatshirts. they were always her favorite.

rummaging in the side pockets of your jacket you found the last twenty dollar bill you had and used it to catch the next bus across town.

in all honesty you would’ve texted natasha to tell her you were on your way, but your phone had been dead for three days and you didn’t bother charging it after last night’s conversation. natasha wouldn’t mind though, you’ve been friends with her for over seventeen years. she was the only person who knew about your upbringing and all the abusive relationships between. she’d been there countless times to pick you up from the hospital your exes put you in, never once blaming you for what happened.

similarly to wanda, natasha never judged you for your decisions or ways of coping. she worried just as much as wanda did, but knowing you hated having to talk about things she kept silent. there were only a handful of times natasha could think of where you talked to her about what happened.

with a deep breath in, you slung your backpack over your shoulder and stepped off the bus. the walk to natasha’s house from your drop off area was only about fifteen minutes, but within that short amount of time you managed to get worked up over wanda. your thoughts were so loud that by the time you made it to natasha’s door step you had tears streaming down your face, your nose red from wiping it with the sleeve of your jacket.

natasha was quick to answer, but she hadn’t expected you of all people to be standing right in front of her. snapping herself out of shock, she pulled you in for a hug before moving back to check you for any signs of bruising.

there were a few, but they were fading nicely against your skin. and the cuts she found looked like they had been treated with care, which only confused the redhead. she hadn’t heard from you in over eight months, so it wasn’t surprising that she missed out on hearing about wanda.

what a shame, you thought to yourself. she would’ve loved her.

natasha closed the door behind you and brought you over to her sofa. you laughed remembering that you were in this very same position last night; although it wasn’t like natasha could break up with you or anything of the sort.

“stay here, i’ll be right back.”

you glanced at the clock on natasha’s wall seeing that it was three in the morning.

it was only when natasha came back when you noticed her disheveled hair and chapped lips. it was clear she was sleeping prior to you knocking on her door. she immediately noticed the guilty look on your face and quickly went to stop you from overthinking.

“none of that now, i don’t care at all that you woke me up at three in the morning. i haven’t seen you in over eight months, i’d be angry with myself if i hadn’t heard you knocking.” unsure how to reply, you nodded solemnly.

she smiled, “are you hungry?” you licked your lips, food hadn’t crossed your mind in hours. “very.”

you followed her to the kitchen where she brought out a can of soup and set it to cook on the stove.

“i don’t have much, i keep forgetting to go to the store.” she shrugged, leaning against the counter top.

“s’okay.”

you awkwardly stood in the middle of the room, arms folded as you stared off into space. natasha took this opportunity to really get a look at you.

she could see the outlining of a bruise on the side of your cheek, and judging by the size, you had to have taken a pretty bad hit. there were also a few bruises around your neck as if someone had tried to choke you.

she bit her lip, wincing internally at the thought of you getting choked so violently that it left marks as dark as the nail polish natasha once used as a teenager. it hurt her even worse knowing that this person was supposed to love you.

you caught natasha’s gaze and shifted yourself further away from her. she tried not to frown, but you saw the slight downward movement of her eyebrows before she had a chance to look unbothered.

“the soup, tasha. it’s going to burn.” you reminded her.

“ah!”

she stirred the liquid content with a spoon and brought it to her mouth. “just right.” you watched her pour a safe amount into a bowl before giving you a spoon she hadn’t wrapped her lips around.

“lets go sit down so you can eat, yeah?”

you followed her like a lost little kid back into the living room. if it hadn’t been for such serious issues at hand, natasha would’ve commented on how adorable you looked clutching the bowl with two hands while you unconsciously bit the insides of your cheeks because you were scared of breaking something.

she gave you time to finish eating. you ate slower than she remembered, but she didn’t think too much of it. the last bite was when natasha when noticed the large scar across your hand.

(god did she hate herself for not seeing it sooner because what the hell?)

you moved to go put the dish in the sink, but natasha stopped you, gently grabbing the scarred hand to keep you from leaving.

“don’t worry about that right now. set it on the coffee table and i’‘ll take care of it when we’re done here.” her voice was soft enough for you to feel safe, an affect only one other person could do.

natasha didn’t say anything else, she wanted you to feel in control, to feel comfortable enough to talk about it.

the crack of your knuckles could be heard after a few short seconds of silence. there was no reason for you to feel so nervous. it was just natasha after all. she would never hurt you.

(you were brave. you were okay. you can do this.)

“she was so good to me, nat.” the redhead scoffed, but you were quick to defend your now presumed ex.

“she was! this time i really mean it, and i know that sounds redundant but i would put the love i have for you as a friend, as a sister, on the line.” she seemed to believe you after that. the look in your eyes told her everything she needed to know.

“what happened?”

your lip started to quiver, “i ruined it.” natasha moved closer to you, wrapping her arms around you so that your body rest against hers. “how’s that?”

“i can’t stop drinking, couldn’t, and she had to do the right thing for herself.” her grip tightened around your frame. she hated not knowing you were drinking again. the first few times weren’t too bad, but she had a feeling this time was more than she could help with.

“she was so good to me, tasha and i ruined it. i fucking ruined every bit of it because i’m too weak to-”

“stop. do not finish that sentence or else i’m going to give you a sisterly lecture for the next three hours about every good thing that makes you who you are.” her threat came off as a joke, but if needed, natasha would actually hold herself to her own word.

you sighed and visibly deflated, natasha allowing the tiniest smile grace her lips from behind you.

“what was her name?” your eyes found their way to natasha’s hands and the rings that clung to the base of her fingers. “wanda.”

“how did she treat you? i mean really treat you.”

you fiddled with her rings, twisting them back and forth absentmindedly, “she used to bandage my wounds with like, five layers of gauze, i swear. i always thought she was just being over dramatic, but sometimes the bleeding would even seep through that.”

your breathing began to slow down. “she would always come when i needed her, whether that be when i blacked out from drinking or if i was sick and needed help taking a bath.”

“she sounds like a good person.”

“she is.”

natasha hummed, “you really scared me, you know?” you moved to try and face her, but she kept her arm wrapped securely around your torso. “i didn’t hear from you in over half a year and now you’re here. you’re my best friend and i thought you were dead.” there was a crack in her voice. god knows she didn’t want you to see her cry.

(that’s why she held you in place, but most of all because she missed having you close.)

“i’m sorry, tasha...”

“just don’t ever do that to me again or i will kill you myself.” you rolled your eyes at her reply. “i’m not, i promise.”

you moved off her lap, turning your body so you were face to face with her. “where do i go from here, nat?”

she thought dor a second, “can you make it through tonight without a drink? or will withdrawls be too bad?”

you paused, surely you hadn’t gotten to the point where withdrawls were as serious as you’d seen in all the medical shows and documentaries. “i think i’ll be good.”

natasha nodded in approval, “do you want help?”

it was the question of the century for you. the answer should be a simple yes, but it never failed to amaze you how much weight could be carried behind a three letter word. there was a chance for you though, something you might not ever get again. and honestly, natasha’s heart couldn’t take another relapse like this. eight months of not knowing if you were alive or not was bad enough, she couldn’t imagine not seeing her dearest friend for the rest of her life.

“yes,” you exasperated, “yes, i wan’t help.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #scarlet witch x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #avengers x reader #avengers imagine #marvel fanfiction

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whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years ago

Note

still taking prompts? got rlly excited for a bit when u said u were bc i enjoy ur style a lot. anyway, lamp/calm for prompt #29? the prompt sounds like smth chaotic they would do lol

this is less chaotic and more tooth-rottingly fluffy, but uh here you go

for #29. Be quiet! You’ll get us caught!

Title: overthinking (darling we’re just fine)

Word Count: 1,963

Content Warnings: gratuitous discussion of breakfast foods

(fic masterpost w/ ao3 links)

“Be quiet! You’ll get us caught!”

He hisses the words out entirely too loudly in the silence of the corridor, and Virgil winces as the sound dies down. In his defense, it is six in the morning, and he is hardly thinking straight. Or rather, coherently. And Roman knows it, too, is smirking at him with that stupid handsome smirk of his, and Virgil would seriously consider kissing him if it weren’t for the fact that he is running on roughly three hours of sleep, and his irritation is spiking.

“Now, storm cloud,” he says, voice just below a normal speaking volume, “we all know that Patton’s going to be dead to the world until at least seven thirty. You don’t need to worry so much.”

And, alright, maybe that’s true. But Virgil glares at him, too tired to deal with the slightly patronizing tone of voice. “Yeah?” he challenges. “I’m sorry, have you met me?”

Roman lifts an eyebrow. “Darling, I think I’ve done a bit more than meet you, at this point—”

“If you two are done making unnecessary noise?” It’s Logan, coming back around the corner, and he does not look impressed. Though, that may be because it’s six in the morning, and Logan never looks impressed about anything until his second cup of coffee. “By my estimates, we have one hour and seventeen minutes before we enter the window of time in which Patton is most likely to wake up. That should be enough time to complete all of our tasks, if we begin now and don’t commit any egregious errors.”

Virgil exchanges a look with Roman.

“Right, lead the way, Lo,” Roman says, and Virgil trails after the two of them, his brain fixing itself on the phrase egregious errors, because of course it does, because it’s him, because he can’t make it through one morning without his mind insisting that something is going to go terribly wrong and also that the world is ending.

He breathes in and out, slowly and deliberately. It’s just breakfast. They’re just making breakfast for Patton, because Patton has been sad and distant lately and nobody is quite sure how to help him, but doing something like this for him might cheer him up a bit.

So many things could go wrong, of course. They could burn the food. They could burn themselves. They could make such a mess that the prospect of cleaning it all up will put more stress on Patton than cooking the meal for him will alleviate, and then he’ll be even more sad and distant, and also, the world will end.

He’s trying not to think about any of that. Trying and failing. This sucks.

“Do you both remember your parts?” Logan asks. He’s tying an apron around his middle, black and utilitarian, but it suits him, somehow. Roman answers in the affirmative, already rattling around in the cupboards for the pans he needs, and Virgil gives a short nod.

Logan is making an omelet, one with all the fixings that Patton likes, ham and cheese and onion. Roman has insisted on making blueberry muffins from scratch, because he’s Roman and he has to be one hundred percent extra one hundred percent of the time. So, that’s left Virgil in charge of protein, and he’s chosen bacon. He knows how to make bacon. Theoretically, bacon is easy; you put it on the frying pan and flip it at the right time, and viola. Bacon.

So he stands there, watching it sizzle. Logan is next to him, keeping a close watch over his omelet on the stove top, and he serves as a steadying presence, reminding Virgil that he’s fine and that he can do this, and that bacon doesn’t take a very long time anyway, so even if he messes up, he can do it again. On Logan’s other side, Roman has commandeered the entire counter for his ingredients. He’s mixing them together and humming to himself, a jovial tune, and it’s still too loud but Virgil feels better about it than he did a few minutes ago.

He finishes the first batch, and frowns at the strips. They’re definitely cooked through all the way, but they’re a bit floppy, and a realization strikes him: he doesn’t know how Patton likes his bacon. Chewy or crispy? Or somewhere in between, with some crispy bits at the edges and the rest softer?

Oh god, the world is ending.

He must make a noise, or a noticeable motion, because Logan glances over at him.

“Is everything alright?” he asks.

“Chewy or crispy?” he manages to say, though his throat has clenched up like a vice. He is well aware that he’s making too big of a deal about this, that it’s just bacon, for crying out loud, but he’s running on so little sleep and it’s so important to him that he gets this right, that they succeed in making Patton feel a little better, and in the face of that, imperfect bacon might as well be the worst catastrophe he’s ever faced.

Logan’s brow furrows. “Are you talking about the bacon?” he asks. “You know, I’m not actually sure.”

He groans, staring at what he’s already made. It might be fine, but then again, it might not be, and if it’s not—

“Virgil,” Logan says, a bit of amusement creeping into his voice. “Please, breathe. Overly processed meat products are not worthy of your distress.”

“But—”

“No,” Logan says, “none of that. Even if we don’t know which he prefers, I find it unlikely that he will reject it out of hand if it’s crispier or chewier than he likes. And besides, if it would ease your mind, there is still plenty of time to make more, and that can be crispier than this first batch, so he can choose what he wants.”

He closes his eyes, nodding, turning over the words in his mind. As always, Logan knows exactly what to say to bring him out of a spiral.

“Right,” he says, and then again, because it’s reassuring to hear it out loud. “Right.”

Logan smiles at him, and then, almost too quickly to process, presses a soft kiss to the corner of Virgil’s mouth. He feels himself heating up, especially when he hears Roman laugh a bit.

“There we are,” Logan says fondly, and Virgil doesn’t see so much as sense Roman sneaking around to his other side. He anticipates the kiss, smacked against his cheek, wet and sloppy. He turns to glare, but Roman grins back at him unabashedly.

“I hear it’s loving Virgil hours?” he asks, and Virgil resists the urge to groan.

“It’s ten ‘til seven,” Logan says, but dashes Virgil’s hopes by following that up with, “though I’m not sure why the time matters. Every time is a good time to love Virgil.”

“Oh my god,” he says, and prays that his blush isn’t as obvious as he thinks it is. He may not have much dignity left to speak of, but he has a little bit, if he can hang on to it. “Isn’t it supposed to be loving Patton hours? Can we focus on that, please?”

“We can multitask,” Roman singsongs. “Muffins going in.”

Wordlessly, Virgil steps aside to allow him access to the oven.

“Actually,” Logan says, leaning against the counter with a self-satisfied expression, “the human brain is not designed for true multitasking. This is what makes speaking on the phone while driving so dangerous; if one attempts to accomplish multiple tasks at once, the ability to do all of them is severely compromised.” He pauses. “Though I believe Roman’s point does stand.”

“Of course it does,” Roman says airily. “We have so much love to go around.”

Logan concedes the point with a tilt of his head, but any attempt at stoicism is ruined by the grin twitching at the edges of his lips. Virgil rolls his eyes and dumps more bacon into his pan, but he has to admit, he does feel a lot more relaxed.

Which was probably their goal all along.

They finish up breakfast. Logan makes several omelets that are up to his standards, and Roman’s muffins come out of the oven perfectly baked, soft and crumbly on the top. And Virgil makes another batch of bacon, crispy this time, and then one more for good measure, just to make sure there’s enough of both kinds. Roman goes about setting the table for four, back to humming quietly to himself.

Virgil tunes into the sound on instinct, letting the ebb and flow of Roman’s voice ground him.

Logan surveys the spread of food with satisfaction. “Some fruit, perhaps?” he suggests, and Virgil veers over toward the fridge, digging through to find some strawberries. He’s washing them up when there is a sound of footsteps coming down the stairs, and everyone else quiets.

Virgil turns to see Patton standing in the doorway to the kitchen, and his first thought is that he looks like crap. His hair is still mussed from sleep, and he has a thick blanket draped across his shoulders, but that’s not what catches Virgil’s attention; it’s the bloodshot look in his eyes and the bags underneath them, pointing to at least one restless night, if not more. It’s a look that Virgil is used to seeing in his own mirror; he doesn’t like seeing it on Patton.

“Good morning, Patton,” Logan says softly. “We made breakfast for you.”

Patton blinks owlishly, and for a moment, his face is completely blank, as if the words haven’t registered with him at all. Then, his eyes flicker to the table, and then to the mess in the kitchen, and go wide.

“You did all this for me?” he asks, his voice small.

Roman drapes his arms over him from behind, kissing his cheek just in front of his ear.

“Of course,” he says.

“We’ve noticed that you haven’t been feeling well lately,” Logan adds. “We hoped that this might help you feel better.”

A smile breaks out on Patton’s face, then, thin and watery and wavering but there all the same, and it is such a relief to see that Virgil feels as though a physical weight has been lifted from his shoulders. Patton gestures toward Logan, who steps forward obligingly into the hug, and then Patton looks to Virgil, who is still hovering awkwardly around the sink, hands full of strawberries, and, well. He can never deny Patton anything, and a group hug sounds nice, so he sets the strawberries down on the counter and moves to join them. It’s a big, warm embrace with Patton in the middle, and Virgil sighs as the last of his tension drips out of him, leaving him uncommonly relaxed.

“I love you guys so much,” Patton says. “Thank you.”

“Love you too, Pat,” Virgil murmurs, and though his voice gets a little bit lost in between the other two saying much the same thing, he knows that Patton hears him, because he turns to him for just a second and smiles, brighter and more genuine, and really, that makes all the stress of the morning completely worth it.

So, they have breakfast, and it’s good, and Virgil notices that Patton doesn’t seem to have much a preference between the two types of bacon, but that’s more than alright, because the point is to make Patton a bit happier, and the small smile on his face says that they’ve succeeded at that. So maybe the world isn’t ending at all.

Because Virgil would rather die than say something so cheesy out loud, but he’s got his entire world right here, sitting around the table in the early morning light, food and company and love to spare.

General Taglist: @just-perhaps @the-real-comically-insane @jerrysicle-tree @glitchybina @psodtqueer @mrbubbajones @snek-boii @severelylackinginquality @aceawkwardunicorn @gayerplease @elizabutgayer @dwbh888 @thatoneloudowl @sanderssides-angst @gayboopnoodle @wildfire5157 @ldavmp4 @a-ghostlight-for-roman @sammy-is-obsessed @imlovethomassanders @a-yeet-bop-bop-boom @halfordshysteria @random-fander @addykatb @i-cant-find-a-good-username @intruxiety @maybedefinitely404 @arya-skywalker @thefivecalls @nerdy-emo-royal-dad

#lamp #ts lamp #virgil sanders #ts virgil #logan sanders #ts logan #roman sanders #ts roman #patton sanders #ts patton #my fic #cat does prompts #it's good to be back y'all

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kimshavacado · 5 years ago

Text

Dead Heat Ch. 9

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: Arranged Marriage/Mafia AU

Summary: Three extremely powerful families with enough power to bring down entire governments, all with vastly different views on how things should be run. The Min family thinks everything can be solved with money, the Jeon family think everything can be solved with violence, and the Kim family relies more on thought which leads to a lack of action. When Kim Y/N loses her father, she only has one way to save herself and her family. But it involves having to give herself over to a stranger. How the hell is she not supposed to punch him in his stupid rich face?

Dead Heat Masterlist

Warnings: Well this is the one where they have unprotected sex. So... yeah.

A/N: Welp. Here you go. I couldn't stand to reread it so I hope it's adequate. I'll see you all in hell.

Chapter 9: Don’t You Want Tea?

Jimin has done a lot less thinking lately. At least when it comes to thinking about you. Since his failed attempt to reach out to you, his mind has been dwelling on simpler things. Overthinking had always been your job, so he wasn't used to feeling a loss of purpose. If he wasn't there for you, what was he even doing here? Sitting on the rail of the fire escape of the loft he's currently squatting, he thinks instead about the distance in between himself and the ground. It's only about 15 meters, but plenty far enough to do some damage should he fall. The question is whether or not it would hurt. His optimism says that it won't, and that his relief would be immediate. Would you even know if he did? Maybe eventually, but by then would you really care? "If you're gonna jump, make sure you tell me first. Someone's gotta clean it up." Hoseok says from inside. It's meant to be a joke, but neither of them laugh. "I'm not gonna jump." Jimin responds, annoyed. He takes one last look at the ground before throwing his legs back over to the correct side and hoping down. "You haven't been checking your phone, have you?" Hoseok says. "We gotta go, the war is afoot!"

To save yourself from the embarrassment of waking up with Yoongi after last night, you yeet yourself out of bed as soon as you're conscious. The sun has just come up so you decide to wander around the house. When you come across a patio that you weren't able to see last night, you slide open the doors to meet the cold morning air. The cool breeze and soft light from the low sun give off a mood just ethereal enough to take your mind off of everything. You lean over the rail of the patio that overlooks the downslope of a hill that the house appears to be built on. Honestly, these are your favorite kind of mornings. Warm sheets, cool air, bright sun, nice views, the only thing that's missing is a good cup of tea. While your wrapped up in your appreciation of your surroundings, you don't notice the man who has joined your company. In his search for you, he finds the patio door ajar and leans against the frame to observe you in your natural habitat. You appear to be relishing in the pure bliss of the moment and Yoongi can’t help but think that he could get used to mornings like this.

This is what brings Yoongi to start thinking about your relationship. He’s always been someone who other people find to be cold and unmoving, and he used to think that you thought this way about him too, at least that’s what he’d gathered from all the times you’ve yelled at him. But sometimes you can be warm, kind, and unconditionally accepting of him, which is something that he’s never been able to say about anyone in a long time.

And that scares the living hell out of him.

Both of you live in a world where things don’t generally work out in anyone’s favor, and hell, he’s not even sure how you feel about him when you’re sober, but looking at you on the patio right now feels like a little slice of peace in the messy pie that is his life and he never wants that peace to end. Of course, that’s not a completely realistic sentiment but that doesn’t mean that you two can’t try.

In his frustration, Yoongi unintentionally lets out a small sigh that gets you to turn around abruptly. Now, the appropriate response would probably be to awkwardly apologize and dip out of the doorway as soon as possible, but Yoongi must be having some sort of an out of body experience because he kind of just stands there with his mind blank and mouth open for a second. You too have a knack for awkward silence, so you stand there and stare at his dumb face.

He seems to be having a war in his head because he looks away from you and suddenly closes his mouth to gain his composure. And eventually he does apologize for interrupting your morning but he clearly doesn’t mean it because he’s on you in a second. It’s so alarming that you don’t even notice Yoongi is kissing you for the first few moments, but when you do, it only feels natural to reciprocate.

With the sun behind you and Yoongi’s body closing the gap, the cold morning air doesn’t cut your skin as sharply as it did before. In fact, as your kiss deepens, it almost feels like your body is overheating, and you feel this warmth travel down your spine even though Yoongi is barely touching you.

You’re perfectly content to continue, and Yoongi is the one who pulls away, but only a few inches. As you look into his eyes, you feel a tinge of embarrassment sneak up on you. Most of the time that you two have shared your affections you’ve been drunk off your asses.

“Look,” Yoongi pulls you back out of your thoughts. “I’m not really good at these kinds of things.” He gestures in between your bodies. “I know you were thrown into this shitty situation out of nowhere, so I get it if you…like…” He huffs out in frustration and looks away from you. “I don’t know. I just… feel like this could work?” He looks to you expectantly.

You stand in awe of his sudden confession and it feels like all that heat manifests itself again. With your cheeks painted red, the only response that you are able to come up with is to reach out and reconnect your lips. In doing so, you’ve moved the both of you closer to the doorway inside and Yoongi uses this to his advantage. Since your hands are on his face, his take claim over your hips and he spins you around, pinning you against the glass on the open door.

Not so long ago this would’ve felt insane, but all you can think about is how secure you feel under Yoongi’s hold and how you two have waited so long to bond in this way. Again, Yoongi cuts your thoughts short by closing the distance between your bodies. This time, however, his hips sit more firmly against yours and you’re finally able to feel all of him.

It seems impossible, but somehow the kiss gets more intense and it feels like you’ve begun a wrestling match with your tongues and teeth. It must be the pent up frustration from both of you when he left you hanging before. It definitely affects him too because his hands slip a little bit lower and underneath your shirt to feel your bare sides. You gasp into his mouth and he smirks against yours and you swear it’s the hottest thing you’ve ever seen him do.

You’re starting to get addicted to the shivers he gives you and use his reaction as affirmation, so you move to continue. However, as you reach for the hem of his shirt, you hear a buzzing noise from the house that almost makes you jump out of your skin. When you separate from him, he appears amused at your alarm.

“Relax, I put on a pot of water before. For tea.” Yoongi soothes, and you could swear you’ve never smiled wider.

“Tea? I didn’t know you liked it.” You say, already knowing his response.

“I don’t particularly. But I thought… you’d want it.” It’s a simple thoughtful action but you still have to hold back from crying and ruining the moment. So you attack him with kisses instead, and he has to peel you off of him. “Okay, got it, right move. But I really should get that.”

It makes sense, wouldn’t want the place to burn down after your first night, but when he walks away, you feel his absence. Things between the two of you are definitely going to be different now, so why not keep going. When you walk back inside, you see him taking the water off of the stove and you begin to remove your shirt.

“What are you doing, don’t you want tea?” He asks but you ignore him and continue walking towards the bedroom.

“I’ll be in the bedroom waiting for you to man up and face your emotions.” All you hear is a brief laugh of disbelief as you continue your journey to bed, shedding clothes as you go.

He obviously follows reaching the doorway to the bedroom by the time that you’re left in only your underwear. He doesn’t have much time to look because you’re on him again pulling his shirt up over his head as he backs you up into the bed. When you fall backwards, the cool sheets shock the skin on your back and you sit up to start pulling down Yoongi’s sweatpants.

You are very shocked to find out that he is, apparently, not wearing underwear. You find yourself head to head with him. You admire how pretty he is before looking up at him with mischief in your eyes.

“No underwear? Didn’t expect that from you.” You tease.

“Is that how this is gonna go? Cause I’m not sure you want to play that game.” He warns. Yoongi may appear all tough but you’re like 80% sure he’s just as much a switch as you are. You can’t help but think about what’d be like to ride him so yeah, you do want to play that game.

“I’ll take my chances.” You say as you pull his lips to yours and wrap you legs around his lower half. Yoongi lowers himself over you and you take the opportunity to feel him up. He’s slender but has some firm muscles that start to twitch when your hands glide over them.

He manages to slip one of his hands underneath you and you arch your back so that he can undo your bra. It takes him a moment, but when he reaches the clasp, he helps you slide the straps off your shoulders. He then takes his turn of feeling you up. His hands are on your sides again as his head travels downward toward your underwear. His mouth is wet but his hair tickles your skin more than his tongue or lips.

When he reaches the only fabric that’s keeping you at least a little bit decent, he grabs them hem with his mouth. A strangled sound leaves your mouth as you make eye contact while he pulls off your underwear with just his mouth. Now you have a new definition of the hottest thing. He positions himself back between your legs to look at what he’s just unveiled but you stop him with your hands before he can actually do anything.

“Sweet concept, but if I don’t have you right now, I’ll lose my mind.” He smirks again at this.

“It’s okay, we’ll have plenty of time for that later.” The thought turns you on even more. You scoot up more on the bed until you’re both comfortable and Yoongi looks to you in question. “You okay with this?” He gives you one last chance to back out and you’d be crazy to take it.

“I’m clean, on the pill, and really need this.” You whine out and Yoongi could almost climax from just hearing your whines, without even ever being inside you. He concedes and leans on one elbow in order to maneuver himself to where he need to be. You inhale when you feel him at your entrance and can’t help but smile up at him. You stare at each other as he slowly slips in, inch by inch. When he’s finally fully seated you let out the breath that you didn’t know you were holding and Yoongi moves to embrace you more intimately.

As Yoongi gently rests his forehead on yours you can almost feel your life weaving itself back together again. The weight that’s been left in your soul from all the shit you’ve both had to go through in your lives feels not as deep and hard to carry when you two are together like this. And you know he can feel it too by the sweet kiss he places on your lips.

When you start to experimentally swivel your hips, Yoongi takes the cue to begin moving. The feeling of his length slowly moving against your walls scratches an itch that you’ve been dying to scratch for a long time now and you can’t help but impatiently chase after his hips. After a minute or so, he catches on and pulls out of you before flipping the both of you over and scooting himself up to rest against the headboard.

You immediately reach down to resume and when you sink back down, it hits differently. It’s deeper and almost more intimate. Yoongi’s hands are all over your sides, something he’s gathered that you like from the little gasps that are escaping you. Occasionally, Yoongi makes small grunts against your lips as well, but he seems to not be very vocal. You take a note to have fun with that later.

It feels good to have someone care like this. It’s not just some temporary fix to get your mind off of reality. Yoongi is your current reality and you honestly didn’t think this much emotion could fit into sex. Every time you feel like you couldn’t be closer to each other you’d feel something new and every time you don’t think it could feel any more euphoric it does, until you’re both on the edge, Yoongi focusing his strength on keeping your hips moving at a reasonable speed.

With the angle that you sweep your hips, your clit rubs perfectly against his front and your reaching your high in a matter of seconds later. You stretch your back straight when you do so and Yoongi wraps his arms around your back as he finishes just after you. You collapse with your head in the crook of his neck as he continues to embrace you. You’re perfectly content to continue to lie there until you feel fluid seeping out of you and make an exasperated noise. Yoongi seems to get it as he pulls out making you wince. He kisses your shoulder which remains in front of his face. When you don’t move he offers an incentive.

“Why don’t you go clean up and I’ll finish making that tea?” You move from his neck to kiss him firmly and his hands move delicately across your skin. “That’d be wonderful.”

You and Yoongi spend what you may call one of the best days of your life together. In between the many times that you two make love that day, you talk, eat, bicker, and he even crushes you in mario cart a few times, something that you get payback for in the sheets. By the end of the night, it seems like there is nothing else to be said, and you’re finally hopeful that when you wake up, there won’t be a crushing awkwardness between the two of you.

The concept of having someone to understand you is not something that you’ve had the privilege to come across, but Yoongi makes everything you’ve been through have a purpose. You probably wouldn’t have ended up here if both of your lives weren’t complete shit, and that makes you think.

“What if we met under different circumstances?”

“What, like if I met you and asked you out? I think we’d actually end up here sooner?”

“You still think we’d be here?”

“Yeah. If we met, there’s no way we wouldn’t, even if we resisted. We’re too right for each other.” He looks at you as he says this and you blush a little at his straightforwardness.

“Wow, you sure you aren’t drunk?” You bury yourself in his chest.

“Nope! Just high on life.“

“Please stop talking.”

He obliges and wraps his arm around you before you both fall into a desperately needed slumber. Unfortunately it’s cut short by a phone call a few hours later in the early morning. You have come to associate things like this as bad news. Around 3am, and while off the grid, no one should be calling you with good news. After sharing a worried look, Yoongi reaches over to answer it.

You watch Yoongi intently as he listens to the person on the other line. He lets out a sigh and wipes a hand down his face. He looks stressed and that only escalates your worry. “Are you sure?” He asks through the phone. After a few more moments he looks almost defeated. “Yeah, okay, we’ll be there.” And he hangs up.

“They attacked again.” He says plainly.

“Well I guess it was good we weren’t there then. Did anyone get hurt?” You ask.

“No, Y/N, not our place. They got to Jin and his- your men.” You stare at him with ignorant eyes not trying to accept the possibility of what he’s implying. “They’re all gone.”

“Wait, what do mean, all gone? Like they left or…” You can’t bring yourself to finish because Yoongi is already shaking his head. “I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t think they were capable of it.” And you wish you could hear Yoongi attempting to console you, but all you can feel is the anger bubbling up inside of you. All your people have been ruthlessly slaughtered in the middle of the night and you’d bet your ass that Park Jimin was part of it.

A/N: I have to go dip my computer in holy water now. Stay safe and healthy!

Next Chapter

Tags: @badbyeyoongi @whothefuckstolemykeds @xxqueenwxtchxx @alecmidnight @rjsmochii @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta @superarmyofdreamersuk @zxlla @1796p @obeythehemmings @betysotelo18 @chogiyeol-utopia @loonyginger @recklesselfless

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years ago

Text

Title: Love, Maybe? {36}**

Chris Evans X Reader OFC Vixen Giovanni

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Tease, NSFW, SMUT

Word Count: 6.3K

Summary: After a night of drunkenness you wake up next to warm, hot as hell body, a migraine and no memory of the night before. When you come to realize that the hot body belongs to none other than Hollywood’s golden boy Chris Evans you freak out. As events unfold you become even more panicked to find out you got married in your drunken haze. What else is there to do but get it annulled, right? Before walking away, you share one more night of molten kisses and passion. Three years later you are still living with the repercussions of your brash decisions, but the surprises don’t stop there. The past has a way of coming back and have you questioning is this fate that you’ve been running from, hell could it have been love, maybe?

NOTE: **Italic texts is an inner Vixen thought. Bold Italic texts is an inner Chris thought. Recommended listening when indicated by the musical note 🎵: 1st: Pssy & Wine by: Mike Champion and 2nd: All On Me by: Sean Paul

**Loosley Edited/Proofread**

***Interactive***

Thank you guys for reading!!!! If you enjoyed this please LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. 😊❤❤️

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Chapter 36: Seize The Day

-Vixen-

Singing along to the sounds of Lauryn Hill’s version of Can’t Take My Eyes Off of You, you danced around and finished preparing breakfast. This was one of your favorite songs and today you were feeling it.

“Oh pretty baby, don’t let me down I pray.”

You rocked your hips and used the tongs as a microphone and hit the high note as you turned to see Chris leaning against the wall with a smile on his face.

“Shit!”

“Wow, serenade and breakfast.” You pinched your lips and turned back to the stove to finish the sausages to hide your embarrassment.

“Morning.” You felt him wrap his arms around you and kiss your cheek then your neck.

“Good morning,” you whispered with a smile.

“Mmm, it smells great, it’s been quite a while since anyone made me breakfast,” Chris added.

“Liar, I’ve made breakfast almost every morning since we’ve been in Boston.”

He smiled and turned you to him. “Wow, liar is a bit harsh. Take it back.” You smiled and shook your head.

“Nope. You take it back. I’ve been feeding you well.” his smile was wide as he dropped his lips to your collar.

“Oh yes you have, very, very well,” he answered placing kisses across your collar and chest. You moaned and quickly got lost. His lips felt amazing. Before you knew it he was stooped before you and kissing your stomach and quickly making his way to the apex of your thighs. His tongue was a weapon and he knew just how to use it.

You groaned and enjoyed the pleasure he gave before you remembered the plan for the day.

“Mmm, Chris. Stop.” As soon as the words were said he pulled away from you.

“I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay, nothing like that. I just have a shoot to get to,” you explained.

“A shoot?”

“Yes, because I had to come here for work, Kassius rearranged the promo shoot for here. I have to be there in an hour which means we only have time to eat and go.”

“Oh, okay. What’s for breakfast?”

“Uh, waffles, sausages, some fruit, and chive scrambled eggs. Don’t tell anyone I stole some ingredients last night.” His smile was perfect, you loved it. Pushing it to the side you put a plate in front of him on the counter.

“Thank you.” You hopped onto the counter beside him and began eating.

It was interesting how all this felt as natural as breathing like you’ve been doing this for the last three years and no time had passed at all. You wondered what he thought of your life here. You knew bringing him here would mean he’d see the restaurant, see the house and it would be like confirmation that you’d led this life without him, on purpose. You wondered if he was angry and was hiding it.

Last night there was no anger in him. He was gentle and amazing, everything you’d remembered him to be. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel anything last night. How could you not especially with that song playing? Occasionally you listened to it when you couldn’t sleep and now he knew it, he knew just how much you thought about Vegas and him. you didn’t feel embarrassed then to tell him the truth, but now you felt exposed and you hated it.

After breakfast, you went into the shower and used it to get your thoughts and emotions under control. It was quite the feat because you were everywhere but after almost forty minutes you managed. When you met him in the foyer he was dressed and ready for the day. The two of you got into the rental car and drove through the city to the address of the shoot. He asked plenty of questions about the area when you pointed out Ella’s preschool he had a lot more of them. His interest in your life made you feel good.

When you arrived at the location of the shoot it was time to get to work. The photographer and one of the guys from the team were there to convey just the look Kassius wanted to achieve. You listened in and corrected them when you heard something that just wasn’t you. You wanted to remain true to who you were and not give in to this fake image, you weren’t Hollywood and you would never pretend to be.

The first look was your chef’s and kitchen attire that you’d chosen for the new restaurant, complete with a chef’s hat. You smiled for the pictures and tried to listen to the instruction for poses but you felt so out of place, so awkward that you were sure that it was coming through in the photos.

“Okay Vixen, how about you do some poses you normally do in the kitchen,” Albee the photographer suggested.

“Uh, poses in a kitchen? I don’t pose in my kitchen. I cook,” you announced. Those around smiled.

“Fair, I walked into that one, but what are some actions that you do in the kitchen? Can you do those?”

You looked around the set and walked over to the kitchen area and tried to imitate chopping without a knife then tried to stir a pot without an actual pot to stir. You felt ridiculous and after a few minutes, Chris came to stand beside the photographer. He then whispered something to him.

“All right let’s take five everyone,” Albee announced.

Chris walked over to you with an amused look on his face.

“On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst how bad did that look?” He smiled and took a deep breath.

“Well, I don’t want to lie, so eight.” You nodded and sighed out feeling frustrated with the day.

“Okay look, this is new for you. you’re used to being in the kitchen whipping up incredible dishes being in front of a camera and doing this is weird. I get it, we all get it but you’re overthinking just a bit. I do this way more than I like. It usually helps to make it as natural as possible,” Chris explained.

“And how do you suggest I do that?”

“I am glad you asked. First, loosen up you have no need to be self-conscious or nervous, you’re gorgeous and the camera loves you. Put yourself in natural positions, think of it as acting.”

“I am not an actor.”

“Neither am I, but don’t tell anyone. Just put yourself in a mindset. You are playing a chef, think of their traits, characteristics, emulate those. When I watched you in the kitchen last night you demanded attention, you were authoritative, confident, controlled, and efficient. You can easily portray those to a camera. Think of poses that show just that.”

You were hearing him and everything he said was good advice, but you also were focused way too closely on his mouth. It would be so easy to get lost in watching him. The way his mouth moved and then his expressions to convey the meaning of his words were poetic.

“Try it. I promise it’ll feel easier.”

“Okay. Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Chris walked back to stand next to the photographer then he gave you a thumbs up. You nodded and took a few relaxing breaths and went through his advice once more in your head.

“Ready Vixen?”

“Yep.”

You crossed your arms and gave a smirk then remixed it and planted them on your hips and flicked out your shoulder to slightly look over it.

“Nice, great shots. Keep em’ coming,” Albee critiqued. You felt some of the nerves fall away as you got a little more comfortable. That comfort had you settling into this role that Chris laid out. You glanced at him and he was nodded with a smile of approval. It felt nice to have it.

Fifteen minutes later, you were posed on top of the kitchen counter like some pin-up model doing role play.

“All right Vixen, we’ve got some good ones here. Let’s try something different, follow me,” Albee said.

You hopped off the counter and followed him to a neighboring room that had a real-life kitchen and plenty of things scattered about.

“Uh, what’s this?”

“Chris brought up something good, you can’t fake what you do. What you do has to be done to be captured, so everything you need to make a dish. As you make it I’m going to snap your pictures. It’ll be real-life art,” Albee explained.

You looked to Chris who shrugged as if it was nothing. He did this and acted like it was just something regular, something that didn’t need attention.

“Ready?”

You nodded and walked to the kitchen and surveilled your surroundings then went to work. This you could do because it felt as easy as breathing, you didn’t have to think about it or plan steps ahead of time. You could hear Albee’s camera clicking but it was easy to ignore it, he worked around you and your actions. There were quite a few comedic flubs that Albee said not to worry about they looked endearing on camera and would work well.

Halfway through you’d forgotten you were being pictured and now filmed and you were just enjoying what you loved to do. Soon you’d drawn the attention of those who were on set and in the building. They shouted out question after question about the steps you took or how you did something and it turned into a live cooking show.

About forty minutes in all and you were finished. With the final product in front of you, you finished the shoot with a few shots. You felt in your zone like this was you and not an act.

“Great work Vixen, my god we got some great shots and footage. You did great.”

“Thank you. this wasn’t that bad.”

Albee laughed and patted your arm before he walked off. You looked around for Chris but didn’t see him anywhere. You heard a “psst” behind you and saw him peeking out from behind a wall. As you approached you saw he wore a bright smile.

“What’re you doing?”

“I didn’t want to be seen by the people who came in. I wanted this to be just about you.”

“So you hid back here the entire time?”

“Not the entire time, maybe thirty minutes. It’s no big deal. You were great. How’d it feel?”

You quickly pressed your lips to his giving him a sweet kiss that quickly turned into a sultry one. Chris had one hand on your hip and the other cupping your cheek as you intensified the kiss. You wrapped one arm around his neck and just enjoyed it. When you pulled away his eyes were closed.

“Wow.” Chris looked at you with complete shock and a dumbfounded expression. You pinched your lips and looked down.

“What was that for?”

“Uh, thank you. You—you did this, and I appreciate it.” He didn’t speak for a few moments; he just stared at you and gently stroked your cheek with the back of his hand.

“I’d do anything for you Vixen.” His words hit you like a ton of bricks and several moments passed with the two of you just staring at each other.

“Excuse me—Vixen?” You stepped away at the sound of Albee’s assistant’s voice.

“Albee wants to know if you want to see some of the shots.”

“Yeah, definitely. Thank you.” Without a word to Chris, you walked off to Albee.

The shots were amazing, and they made you look better than you actually did. You were more than pleased with them and knew Kassius would be too. You mentally checked off another thing on your to-do list and felt excitement bubble with how close this all was to being finished.

When you and Chris stepped out onto the sun-drenched sidewalk you took a deep breath. “All right, work is done for the day. I have an idea. Let me show you my San Francisco. I’ll take you to a few places I go often, and we’ll grab lunch in there at some point,” you suggested.

“Sounds good. Lead the way.” He slipped his sunglasses on and tipped his hat low securing the incognito celebrity signature fashion and the two of you were off.

Five minutes later, you were on a cable car. You were standing on the side holding on to the bar with Chris behind you with one hand on the bar and the other holding you around the waist. “The likelihood of me falling off is slim,” you assured.

“Better safe than sorry, there’s a little girl who would kill me if anything happened to her favorite person in the world.” You smiled and allowed him to hold you close, you didn’t mind, you actually liked it.

When you got off you brought him into your favorite bakery. Once he walked inside he moaned. At the counter, he damn near pressed his face to the display case as he admired every treat there. You took care of ordering one of each of the eight things you, Ella and Nex loved here. Once they were ready you were off again. As you walked and talked you ate, it was the San Franciscan way.

Next, you took him to Telegraph Hill and to some of the famous stone step paths in the city. You talked about a variety of things as you walked toward the steps you knew that would take to you the waterside. He told you stories about his childhood, his siblings, stories about his first few years in Hollywood, stories about those he was closest to in the business and even how he’d med them. It was enlightening. Occasionally he’d initiate contact either through a securing hand at your back, or an assistive hand down a steep decline, every time it made you feel like a girly girl and gave you butterflies.

Once you’d made it to one of the waterside locations where you pointed out Alcatraz. He was able to use the telescope there to find it. That was when he proceeded to list off a few impressive facts about the place, surprising you in the process with his broad knowledge. After his near five-minute lecture, he stopped and the most adorkable expression washed over him, it was one of embarrassment and humor. It was perfect and gave you a sight of a new side. You sat at the waterside for some time and enjoyed the smell of the water, the sun, and the breeze through the trees. It was a beautiful afternoon. Chris would brush your hair from your face often. When you felt him take your hand it made you smile like an idiot which made him smile like an even bigger idiot and you were two idiots holding hands smiling.

When you took him to the best seafood restaurant in town the two of you did not downplay how much you ate. You ordered everything on the menu and plenty of beer to go with it as did he and the two of you pigged out without an ounce of shame. It felt good to just relax and not have there be any awkwardness or tension between you. It felt like the night in LA when you’d had tacos together, comfortable.

The sun had set by the time you made it to your last stop, a chocolatier. Turns out he has a mean sweet tooth that he likes to keep under wraps. While there, he tried almost all of their seventy variations of chocolate treats one after the other. You had no wonder where Ella got her sweets obsession, neither of them had any chill. A few times he’d feed you a few pieces as if it didn’t take a thought. He even finished something you’d had a bite of or wiped chocolate from the corner of your mouth and licked his finger afterward. By the time you left the shop, you were holding hands and slowly strolling to the cable car. On the car, he stood behind you with both arms wrapped around you whispering into your ear with his chin on your shoulder. You had no idea how you’d gotten here, but you liked it here.

When you were home you and Chris split up. It allowed you time to shower and check emails and respond to Kassius and other work obligations. After an hour, you’d finished applications for the new restaurant, chosen your kitchen staff and most of your wait staff and signed off on most of the vendors before you got caught up talking to Ella. She told you all about the great things she’d been doing with her grandmothers and cousins. She sounded like she was having a blast and barely missed you or Chris. After promising her you’d be back tomorrow she asked to talk to Chris. You found him in the living room doing some work of his own. Once he heard her voice his face lit up.

You went back to your room to give him some space. When you were in your closet a great idea hit you. When you turned Chris was walking in.

“She doesn’t sound like she misses me at all.”

You snorted and laughed then patted his shoulder. “Aww, you’ll get over it.”

“I don’t know if I will.”

“I have a great idea. This is your last night here, how about I take you to one of my favorite places.”

“What kind of place is this?”

“Uh, it’s a bit of a dancehall,” you informed. Chris’ eyebrows shot up.

“Dancehall? As in club?”

“Not a traditional club, it has more of an underground vibe to it. not many people know about it, the music is good, and the drinks are strong. Nexus and I like to go there every once in a while when I’m not too swamped.”

“So, I’ll see you in your natural environment?”

You laughed and gently pushed him. “Natural environment? What am I some endangered species?”

Chris pulled you flush against him with a wide smile on his face then wrapped his arms around you. “Of course, you are. You’re a rare unicorn, mother of unicorns,” he teased. The two of you laughed together until he softly kissed you once then twice and teased your bottom lip. You kissed him back and allowed him to press you against your opened door.

“So, do you want to?”

Chris nodded and kissed your nose. “I do, I want to do everything with you.” You smiled and tried not to blush. The way he easily made you feel like a schoolgirl was crazy.

“Okay. So get ready.” You pulled away and bit your bottom lip, an action he imitated. Neither of you moved again and you felt the air in the room change. You knew he felt it too.

“Thirty minutes?”

You nodded and walked away toward your closet trying to create space between you to prevent the inevitable.

An hour and a half later, you walked inside the dancehall with Chris close behind you. One hand was on your waist as you held the other. The music was loud, and the air was hazy from the mixture of smoke from numerous substances. Off to one corner, you saw a group doing hookah, and nearby a few were smoking blunts and cigarettes. The combination of scents wasn’t unpleasant. As you passed people you noticed a few guys who looked you over before looking to Chris. His hand on your waist tightened possessively.

At a small table in a far-right corner you sat and crossed your legs, Chris’ eyes immediately fell to your exposed thighs.

“That outfit is bringing plenty of attention,” shouted over the music. You smiled and shrugged.

“Is it?” He nodded and scooted closer to you stretched his arm around your shoulder and whispered to you.

“Trying to make me jealous?” You smiled and locked eyes with him.

“I didn’t know I had the power to make you jealous.”

“You have more power than you know,” he whispered back. The look that you shared stole your breath and made your heart race. Everything around you faded and neither of you noticed anything or anyone.

“Eh-em!”

Before you was one of the bottle girls with a smile on her face. Chris dipped his head down and hid it behind your shoulder just a bit.

“Hi.”

“What can I getcha?”

“Two bourbons, double,” you answered.

She nodded and walked off but not before glancing back at Chris.

“I don’t think she recognized you,” you assured.

The music changed to a modern day soca hit and everyone around you livened up and began dancing and chanting along with it.

“Do you dance?”

Chris smiled and went back to your ear. “I think you know the answer to that.”

You remembered your time in Vegas, you’d been in a club together and danced together. He had rhythm. That coupled with his charm made him a great dancer, although you may have been so drunk and horny anything was good to you.

“I was drunk as hell; everything was great that night.”

He smiled and nodded then stood and held his hand out. You looked at it then him and took it. Chris pulled you to him and then brought you toward an even darker corner. Once there he began bouncing to the beat trying to coax you into joining him. slowly you began dancing with him and it didn’t take any time at all for the two of you to begin to enjoy yourselves. You were right he had rhythm and was such a goofball that even if he messed up he didn’t care.

You took a break and went back to your table to enjoy your drinks and some conversation. The energy in the club was great and you loved that it didn’t get overpacked, there was a max occupancy of a hundred or so and even then it wasn’t as if everyone was all over each other. The music changed several times and went between reggae to soca to sultry RnB and it was all working together with the drinks you had.

A few hours later, you were as loose as you were going to get, and you grabbed his hand and lead him to a dark corner that wasn’t occupied. Halfway there Chris pulled you back into him and softly kissed your neck. The music changed as soon as you got to your destination and you couldn’t have planned it better. The sounds of 🎵Mike Champion surrounded you. You turned to Chris and locked eyes with him and began swaying your body. He didn’t pretend not to look at you, his eyes slowly raked over your body before his bottom lip caught between his teeth.

The song was one of your favorites and it always put you in the mind frame where your thoughts easily flowed to him. With him in front of you, you decided to tease him. Turning your back to him Chris squeezed your hip and stood there as you swayed and ground your hips onto him. you could hear his breathing change and felt one of his hands trail to the top of one of your thighs. You leaned your head back onto his shoulder and then you felt his teeth latch onto your earlobe and gently bite down.

“Mmm.”

“You like that?” His voice was crazy deep and it opened the door of your desire. That was all it took.

“Tell me.” It was an order and one you had no problem obeying.

“Yes.” Chris kissed then sucked the sensitive part of your neck and began swaying with you keeping up with the pace you set. You couldn’t believe that you were horny in this club from nothing but his voice and a kiss to the neck.

Chris’ hand snaked around to your backside but slid down to the back of your thigh. He slowly felt your skin and just as he was about to kiss your neck again the song changed. You could have shot the DJ for it, but when you realized what song he’d changed it to you could have kissed him. 🎵You turned to Chris and draped your arms around his neck. In the same breath, he pulled you on him. The two of you swayed together and kept to the beat. With your forehead just below his nose, you kept your eyes down and focused on the words of the song and how quickly you were fell under his spell.

Chris’ hands on your lower back squeezed the skin there before he moved them to your hips to squeeze again. A soft groan escaped your lips, a groan you know he heard. Chancing a look at him, you found his eyes already on you. the temptation between you reached an almost critical level. Chris took your hands and spun you, so your back was to his chest. You took the opportunity to whine against him making sure to roll your hips slowly. When you heard him suck in a breath you smirked to yourself.

You dipped down just a little and let your ass do all the talking. You felt his undivided attention and from the quick glance you got of him from over your shoulder he knew just what you were doing. When you stood up to press your back against his chest Chris moved your hair to the side allowing you to feel his breath on your neck by your ear.

“Cause I'm searchin’ just to find a toppa top girl, and you lookin' fine. I love that shape and that design, gimme your body anytime. And I know you hear me clear, girl, you gotta know I got no fear. And you know I will be prepared if you give me your body anywhere.”

Your head snapped back to look at him, he had an amused grin on his face. “I may be white but I’m not vanilla.”

You laughed loud and shook your head and sunk back into him again only this time adding more of a belly dancing flare to it, Shakira was not the only one who could do it. When Chris’ hands rested at your pelvis every urge wanted you to grab his hand and put it where you wanted it. When you turned to him you could see he was struggling with his desires as well. The look on his face was masked but only just a little, you knew just what he wanted and you were going to tease the hell out of him before you gave it to him.

“C'mon now let’s go, where nobody knows. You and me alone, you and me together. Wanna feel it in my soul, baby take control. Love when you, oh, make it last forever,” you sang along while staring into his eyes.

There could have been the biggest fight going on around you but neither of you would have known it with how wrapped up with each other you were. Song after song played but the two of you only had eyes for one another and the bubble you were in only got smaller and smaller.

When you made it back to your house once the front door shut you were on him. You each peeled off your clothes and threw them around not caring where they landed. When they crashed into something the two of you giggled like drunk kids. Your lips and teeth clashed but neither of you cared you just giggled your way through the hall until Chris carried you up the stairs. He stumbled and lowered you to the steps and hovered over you. his lips kissed, licked and sucked a path down your exposed skin. When he got to your waist he didn’t stop instead he went to your core and placed a suctioned kiss right on your clit.

“Fuck!”

“Like that?”

“Mmm-hm.” Your pitch was high, and you sounded desperate, you didn’t care.

“God, you’re irresistible!”

Chris scooped you up and scurried up the remainder of the steps to your bedroom where he dropped you on the bed. You laughed while you bounced then sat up to help him undress. As he worked with kicking off his shoes, you busied yourself with peeling off his pants. Chris then took over and kicked them off and jumped onto you. Your laughter mingled together. Chris then slithered down your body to pull off your underwear and again he kissed your clit and went to work.

He didn’t take his time, his mission was to get you off and it was evident with how expertly he commanded your body to do what he wanted. After only a few minutes you felt your orgasm take over and you clamped his head between your thighs as you rode the wave. He easily pried them apart and pressed them to the bed. The strength he exhibited made you want him even more. You rolled onto him and kissed down his chest across his abs and went right for your prize.

As you were going to grab him his length spasmed and nudged you right on your nose. That cracked the two of you up and you both broke out in a fit of laughter especially when he apologized.

“He has a mind of his own.”

You couldn’t stop laughing. Eventually, you did though and wrapped your lips around him. His groan was deep and guttural. It made goosebumps scatter across your skin, you loved it. Slowly you bobbed your head up and down his need. Each time your lips wrapped around his tip he whimpered and grabbed the sheets beside him.

“Christ, your mouth feels incredible.”

You smirked and swirled your tongue around him. making him shiver.

“Does it? Do you like it?”

“So much,” he whispered, again you smirked.

“Do you want me to keep going?”

Chris quickly nodded his head with his jaw dropped. “Yes, please.”

Amusement filled you and you continued pleasing him. Everything you did had him grunting, moaning and bucking his hips up sending his full length further down your throat. Your moans joined his and soon his hands sunk into your hair and he began guiding your head. When you picked up the pace he angled his head back and grunted and sucked in a breath.

“Fuck Vixen. Slow—slow baby.”

The sound of the endearment made your heart flutter and had you speeding up rather than going slow. When his grunts turned to loud whimpers you pulled your head back and stared at him. When he looked to you, you smiled and crooked your finger to him.

“Come ‘ere.” Chris slid to the edge of the bed and kissed your stomach up to your breast and sucked a nipple before he kissed you with urgency. His hands squeezed the flesh of your ass and he pulled a moan from you before you turned and slowly sank down onto him.

“Aaah.” He sighed and held you there, so you didn’t move. You enjoyed the feel of him filling and stretching you to capacity. Slowly you whined your hips circling him. he bit your shoulder harshly then kissed it soothing the ache.

When you began bouncing on him you looked over your shoulder, locked eyes with him and enjoyed how helpless he looked. It made you feel powerful but you also couldn’t ignore how good he felt. After a few minutes, Chris began pumping up to meet each of your bounces sending him further inside of you.

“Fuck, yes Chris.”

That was all he needed to hold your hips where they were to plow into you setting a heart-racing pace. Your moans fell from you one after the other as did his. You were so close to losing your shit and he must have known it because when his fingers made contact with your clit you flung your head back and gave him full control.

“You feel so good, you make me feel so good,” Chris whispered. He then stood with you and pushed you onto the bed and angled your ass in the air then continued his thrusts. The new angle was all you needed for your release to break free. You screamed then felt his hand at the back of your neck holding tightly. Another orgasm washed over you even before the first finished.

“Mmm, come all over this dick Vix. Come for me.”

You hadn’t seen this man since Vegas, the man who got off on control and orders, the man who had a clear dominance kink, the man who had the power to make you come over seven times in one night. You gripped the sheets because you knew it was a matter of time before you came again. Chris’ hands wrapped around your hair and gently pulled as he slammed into you to the hilt. As expected you came again and clenched around him. Chris hovered over your back and kissed a path up to your shoulder then bit down.

“Mmm, God you’re gonna make me come.”

“Come for me,” you ordered.

“You want me to come?” His strokes slowed but the depth of which he reached increased. Your jaw dropped, words failed you as your toes curled and body shook with your fourth release of the night.

“I can’t hear you, Vix. Do—you—want—me—to—come?” With each word, he enunciated he slammed into you. By the time he slammed into you once more he ground against you sending his cock to touch every wall and involuntarily pull yet another orgasm from you.

“Shit! No! Fuck me.”

“No please?”

“Pretty please.” You felt his smile on your ear then he gave you just what you asked for—the pounding of your life.

Your screams echoed around the room and mingled with his loud grunts and groans. The room filled with the combined scent of your sex and it was a hedonistic scent, one that fueled the fire of desire between you. By the time Chris finally came, you were exhausted. You could barely move let alone keep your eyes open.

~~~~~~~~~

-Chris-

You were going to be the death of him. He’d buried himself so deep in you he’d made you come over and over. He should have been tired, but he wasn’t. He should have passed out after he came but he couldn’t. He had way too much going on in his head and his body wanted more of you. It had never been like this with anyone. He could easily control himself but with you that control was nonexistent. He didn’t even know what it felt like. You were his addiction, temptation, and relief.

Ten minutes after both of your breathing had returned to normal he knew he had to tell you. He took a deep breath but hesitated yet again. He was afraid, he knew that by now. He knew there was a fifty-fifty chance that you’d be upset and that you’d want to proceed with the divorce. He knew he could lose you—again. He didn’t want to, but he had to face the music.

“Vix.”

A soft moan rumbled on his chest. Closing his eyes, he began.

“I have a confession, a confession that I should have told you weeks ago. A confession that may come as a shock. First I have to tell you what a huge mistake I made three years ago. What I said to you—there is no excuse for it. I’m sorry. I know I’ve said it before, but I have to say it again. I’ve regretted it for years; I still regret it. I wanted to find you and went back and forth if I should or shouldn’t. I didn’t have the courage to find you really. I was so ashamed of myself and how I’d treated you, I was such an asshole. Uugh.”

He hit his head on the headboard and hated himself all over again. It was his words that had him missing the last three years. His words, his fault.

“Since finding you again I’ve—I’ve been reminded of the things I felt. The things I felt, I ignored and buried. I was not prepared for you or what I felt then. I ran from it and ended up right back there. I think about you—a hell of a lot, I dream about you. I want things with you I’ve never wanted with anyone else, I want things I didn’t know I wanted until you. You’re—you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. I really, really—like you. You have no idea how much. I want to start fresh, I want to build a life, a new one. A few weeks ago, I found out that there was a mix up with the original divorce papers we signed. Sherman—Sherman went through a personal ordeal and the paperwork got lost and was never filed. We’re still married.”

He waited for you to say something but when you didn’t he continued. “I know it’s a shock and probably an unwelcomed one, but maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. Maybe it’s a sign that we shouldn’t be divorced, that we’re supposed to be in each other’s lives. Maybe what God intended three years ago was to bring us together and he’s not letting either of us off the hook.”

Still, you didn’t speak.

“Vixen?” He glanced down at you and saw you were fast asleep.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” He dropped his head back and closed his eyes in disbelief he’d gone through all of it only for you not to hear him.

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

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

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

TagList:

@airis-paris14 @thiccdaddy-mbaku @wakandas-vibranium @wakanda-inspired @theunsweetenedtruth @ashanti-notthesinger @reignsxjackson @halfrican-heat @ambthegamer @simplyyamberr @muse-of-mbaku @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @maliadestiny @drsunshine97 @blowmymbackout @purplehairgawdess @thehuntoyobun @wakandamama @wakandawinning @profilia @zxddy-panther @h-challa @babygirlofwakanda @misswakanda2018 @ororowrites@hutchj @myfavemarvelfanfics @lavitabella87 @afraiddreamingandloving @autumn242 @purple-apricots @skysynclair19 @hersheyskissesss-blog @blue-ishx @90sinspiredgirl @tchallaswife @tchallamakesmeh0lla @turn-thy-paige @blackchickfics @blackpantherismyish @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @naturally-bri @flawlesslybeautiful14 @qweentbh@lunaerly @theoutereffect@twilight-sapphire-lover @pupyluv247 @stark-red19 @cockyboysandsugarism@maverickabull @madbadsiren @aykanna @myaw731 @ruruly20 @mixedmelanin @brittyevans @bezzywazhere@laketaj24 @soulsparker @theresnomoregoodones @syreanne@loveandcigarillos @heyauntieeee @heybriheyyy @wakanda-bcth @uhlxis @maliadestiny @dadinhas-heat @yaachtynoboat711 @geeksareunique @bultalongthewayside @ajspencer1892 @captiansaveasmut @imaginewhoever @terrablaze514 @starsshines-blog @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @darkandlovely94 @sithlordslut @wavyyc @naturalistamisslyn @nigarachi15 @madamslayyy @blackandfair @kreolemami @mylastnameisthe-fish @kaykay0829@chaneajoyyy @tequilajay27 @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @slimmiyagi @im5ftbutmythroat66 @jaeee-http@madhatterhelsing @sunflowerpsalms @wakanda-shit-is-that @deliciousstreetkidcroissant @jecourt @vebner37 @disneysdarlingdiva @melaninmarvel @alanastormborn@dolphinpink310 @yourwonderbelle @ohleucothea @queentearra @bitchbetterhavemydinner @fentybabyy @kaykay4454fan @priya212 @kitkit1690 @chrismarcs @beautycomesindifferentformsworld @blackpantherimagines @ovohanna24 @sweetpeachjones @kslo000 @nubian-queen18 @omgsuperstarg @airis-paris14 @sisterwifeudaku @mejustme06 @ilcb7 @leahnicole1219 @destinio1 @drsunshine97 @blue-ishx @inlovewithmakeupcomicsanimelove @prettyprincessushio @treeondrea @ursapharoh05 @blackpinup22 @kaytauru @big3gocandykahn @kissingpineapples @wildaboutchrisevans @fitfineandstayingalive @misspooh @michele-onel @gorjiss @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @muva-milaje @limbo-limbo-limbo @awkwardlyabstract @blxck-brxndie @meeky-imagines @inlovewith3 @metalarmlover @mellowjellow6 @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @thatrandomhetaliachick @missdeerstalker15 @ursapharoh05 @treeondrea @ovohanna24 @marvelheaux @romanceoftheeveryday @mufasathatniggatho @cltex84 @sweetbearcolorgarden @msincognito67 @mosagram @lunaerly @mar-ta-3 @ljstraightnochaser @lewatigress @akimi-youngblood @bekahdean87 @jasmindaughteroftheworld @cocooned-butterfly @emoniclark22 @chereedrop619 @theblulife @niggarachi15 @drsunshine97 @msincognito67 @missdeerstalker15 @wakandamama @avenger-marvel-fan @arieljamiyla @vibranium-soul @monae-boss @queenxchallaxkillamonger@amirra88 @jaeee-http @omg-itsnadi @fonville-designs @sydneebleu @cherrystainedlipsbaby @behindthesehazeleyes27 @areubeingserved @kelbabyblue @academic-glowup @patzammit @yourwonderbelle @pennywisesmistress @squeackygee @noramushrooms @titty-teetee @ab-baybay @kreolemami @impossiblegiantrebelbasketball @dangerouslovefanfic @heladoom @renesmeeharelds @zaddysqueen7 @alyxkbrl @hello-therree @taylorveebee @a-dizzle777 @deidrashouseofpain @coldmuffinbanditshoe @evemej @chaselovinggert @ben-wyxtt @designerwriterchic @chrisgalore @jennmurawski13 @rynabarnesrogers @yunggyeezyy @kemkem101 @dearkyrainez @minton131@momobaby227 @jesseswartzwelder @briellableu

#love maybe fic #chris evans fanfiction #Chris Evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #Chris Evans X black reader #chris evans smut #angst fanfic #slow burn fanfic #black fanfiction

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totally-incorrect-theatre-quotes · 5 years ago

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Festival of Lights (Fanfic)

With the help of several of my wonderful followers (including: @lgbt-fandom-fae @i-was-over-on-the-bench and anons) I was able to write a completely fluffy, angst-free, and hopefully accurately written short story about Lydia celebrating the first night of Hanukkah with Wendy, Wendy’s family, and BJ.

I cannot thank my followers enough for teaching me about Hanukkah, as a non-Jewish person the last thing I would want to do is incorrectly write about the holiday!

______________________________________________________________

Lydia had met Wendy’s family before. She had gotten to know her parents and her two brothers pretty well in the past two and a half months and she didn’t know why she was so nervous about this particular evening, but when Wendy invited her over for the first night of Hanukkah she instantly worried she’d do something horribly wrong. She had an approximate idea of what Hanukkah was, her family celebrated Christmas when she was growing up but they taught her about other religions. She just wanted to make a good impression because this was the first major family event Lydia had been invited too and she didn’t want to ruin it with her ignorance of their traditions.

“What can you tell me about Hanukkah?” Lydia asked BJ who was hanging upstairs in the attic with the Maitlands, “Wendy invited me over to her house to celebrate with her family and I have no clue what I’m doing, like I know it’s compared to Christmas but do I get her a gift? If I do what am I supposed to get her? If they pray do I join them or do I just respectfully stand there and listen because I’m not Jewish?”

“Kid you are making a way bigger deal out of this than it needs to be. It’s been a while since I’ve had a real Hanukkah but the worst thing you can do is this.” Beetlejuice gestured widely to her in general, “You freaking out about it is going to make everything so fucking awkward. Think about it, do you think this Wanda is overthinking what she’s gonna do when you invite her over to our humble abode for Christmas?”

Lydia shook her head, she hadn’t even considered Wendy mulling over the details of Christmas. It was just a casual thing in her family, they weren’t even super religious about it, when she was little they went to some church service with her grandparents but that was about it. Mainly it was just a bunch of fun little traditions and being with family.

“Just follow her lead, and bring me home some latkes. I’d kill for some good ones, my mom was a shitty cook but damn could she make some good latkes.”

Lydia spent the rest of the afternoon casually scrolling through websites on Hanukkah traditions before quickly wrapping the presents she had gotten for Wendy and her family , with the help from Delia, and her dad drove her over to the Blackwood house. Wendy only lived about a ten-minute walk from her house but since it was the middle of December in Connecticut her dad insisted on driving her over. Lydia held the presents wrapped in blue paper anxiously in her hand when he rang the doorbell. Wendy greeted her excitedly with a big smile and pulled her into a welcoming hug. She grabbed her hand and pulled her into the kitchen where Lydia could instantly smell the pleasant scent of potatoes frying on the stove, Wendy’s father yelping when some of the hot oil splashed up from the pan and onto his hand. Her brother Silas was sitting at the table playing a board game with her other Levi who Lydia was surprised was home, Wendy had told her he was in Oregon for a job interview.

“Mom, dad! Lydia’s here!” Wendy yelled

“Oh, hello Lydia! It’s so nice to have you here, Wendy’s been talking about it all day, she’s very excited you wanted to-”

Wendy gave her mom a look Lydia often gave her family members when they were embarrassing her. She couldn’t help but snicker a little now that she knew Wendy was just as nervous about tonight going well as Lydia was, “I’m excited to be here too!” Lydia set her present down on the table where a few other envelopes and small packages were being stashed.

Wendy’s father gestured for them to all sit down at the table and handed Lydia and Wendy a bowl of potatoes and asked them if they’d be willing to help him peal some more because he wanted to be sure they had enough ready so that Lydia could take latkes home for her family to try. Lydia enjoyed the process so much that she ended up helping Wendy’s father fry an entire batch of them, and while hers were more so burned than golden brown he still said they looked delicious. She helped set the table for dinner and everything looked and smelled amazing. For dinner, they had rosemary chicken, latkes, and challah bread which Lydia promptly decided was the best bread that she had ever tasted in her life. Lydia offered to help with the dishes but her parents insisted that Silas and Levi would be more than willing to clean up for them, but judging from the looks they gave their sister it was obvious she must have paid them to do the dishes that night.

For a while, the family just sat around the table chatting about what was going on in their lives and making polite chatter with Lydia who was now a lot less anxious now that the evening had gone underway. Though Wendy’s family was completely supportive of their relationship Wendy and Lydia kept their physical contact to a minimum, but still managed to hold hands underneath the table. Silas would always groan whenever he saw them doing couples stuff like hugging or holding hands, often teasing them by claiming they were already an old married couple. For a nine-year-old Silas was incredibly sarcastic, it often made Lydia wonder what it would be like if she had siblings but it had gotten to the point where Silas was like an honorary little brother. Lydia didn’t interact with Levi enough to have any kind of relationship with him so any conversation they had that night was pretty awkward in comparison to the casualness Lydia had with the rest of the family.

“Okay so this part is strange but my family likes to have a contest to see who can eat the most of this one doughnut called Sufganiyot in sixty seconds. They are like super dense and full of jelly, it’s really funny.” Wendy was already doubled over laughing while she was trying to explain the rules, “One time my dad tried to stuff three in his mouth at once and he just got jelly everywhere on the table. It was a sticky mess for like two weeks afterward.”

“Do you have to tell that story every year!” he defended, “You were like six years old I don’t even know how you remember it.”

“Dad how could I forget! I wish I had it on camera!”

Lydia lost the contest miserably, she was only able to eat about two and a half donuts before the timer went off. Silas was actually the winner eating a whole five and three quarters which was extremely impressive considering the next closest had only been able to eat four She probably could have done better but she loved the tasted of them and didn’t want to just swallow them down without enjoying the flavor. Besides the fun part was watching the rest of the family try. Wendy ended up with jelly all over the one side of her mouth. Wendy’s mom, much to her embarrassment, tried to wipe it off before Wendy ducked under her arm and wiped it off herself with a wet paper towel. Silas, feeling extremely confident from him recent victory, challenged everyone to a round of dreidle which later turned into six rounds where chocolate coins Lydia learned were called gelt and small trinkets were added to the pot and the rules seemed to constantly be changing. It didn’t really matter who was winning or losing, she was just enjoying spending time with Wendy’s family. Even Levi was warming up to Lydia, playfully teasing her when the dreidle would land on shin.

Lydia hadn’t even noticed how quickly the time had been flying by but when she glanced outside the kitchen window it was pitch blackout and the stars were shining in the sky. Wendy stood next to Lydia while the family gathered around the Menorah. Silas, Levi, and Mr. Blackwood were all wearing blue and silver yarmulkes on their heads and bowing their heads respectfully while they began to say the blessing of the evening. Lydia bowed her head respectfully and watched observantly as Mrs. Blackwood took the middle candle that Wendy whispered was called the Shamash and used it to light the first candle. While the first candle was being lit the family sang a blessing in Hebrew by the third repetition Wendy was coaxing Lydia to join them, while she wasn’t perfect with the pronunciation she managed to finish the song along with the rest of the family, “Baruch atah, Adonai Eloheinu, Melech haolam, asher kid'shanu b'mitzvotav v'tsivanu l'hadlik ner shel Hanukkah”

The Shamash had been placed back in the Menorah and Mr. Blackwood began to sing a blessing that Wendy explained quietly was called “hanerot halalu” which was customary to be recited after the candle of the evening had been kindled. The family smiled at the end of the blessing and Lydia couldn’t help but to feel to the volume of love in the household while they all stood around the now illuminated Menorah. While it was not a tradition she had grown up with it was a memory that she would forever cherish. She reached out fo Wendy’s hand and grabbed it in hers as her subtle way of thanking her for inviting her to join in the experience. After a few seconds, they all sat at the table again and exchanged presents. Levi and Wendy both got cards with a bit of money in the as well as a little bag of chocolates, Silas got a new video game and a dinosaur lego set. Lydia watched beaming as the family opened their presents from her, she even earned a smile from the hard to please Silas when he unwrapped a remote control car she had gotten him. She blushed when Wendy gushed over how pretty the necklace she had gotten her was. She immediately had her father help her put it on and was holding the blue pendant between her two fingers and grinning in glee. Lydia’s face turned even redder when she received a gift from Wendy’s parents, she and Wendy had already agreed to give each other presents on each other’s respective holidays so Lydia was thrown off guard to be getting a gift from the Blackwoods. She gently unwrapped the tissue paper and held the present close to her chest when she saw the little mason jar filled with gelt coins, her own dreidel, and a blessing written in fancy scrawl.

“I know you said you didn’t want a Hanukkah present because you’re not Jewish but my parents wanted to give you a memento to remember your first time celebrating.” Wendy smiled, Lydia rambled about how much she loved it and hugged everyone in the family. For another hour everyone sat around talking, laughing, and celebrating. It came too quickly when Lydia got the text saying he was in the driveway. The Blackwoods refused to send Lydia home empty-handed and they handed her a bag with leftover latkes and sufganiyot. Just like every time they had to say goodbye the two girls were incredibly dramatic, as if they weren’t planning on facetiming later that night, or had plans to hang out at Lydia’s house for Christmas. When they were sure none of the family members were lurking around the corner Lydia tugged on Wendy’s collar and planted a quick goodbye kiss on her lips and hugged her goodnight.

The whole car ride home Lydia talked her father’s ear off about how wonderful the evening was and how much fun she had. When she got home she searched eagerly for Beetlejuice ready to tell him all about it, she found him in the kitchen ready to light his own menorah she and the Maitlands had gotten him when he mentioned how he missed celebrating Hanukkah. She was grateful that he hadn't finished celebrating for the night, she felt bad not being there on the first night with him but he told her that he honestly didn’t mind if she spent the night with “Williomehnia”, but she still wanted to be there for him too. Lydia joined them and surprised BJ when she sort of knew the words to the one blessing. She played dreidel with him and her family while they feasted on the food the Blackwood’s had sent home with her. She quickly ran upstairs to her room and returned with a silver-wrapped present and handed it to Beetlejuice who was pretending his heart wasn’t swelling with love when he opened it to find a stuffed bear wearing a Hanukkah sweater.

Exhausted from a busy but amazing day Lydia went up to her room, snuggled up under the blankets with her cats and smiled as she thought about how a lot had changed for her in the past year of her life, and while for a long time she left like her entire family had fallen apart she was filled with pure love and joy when she thought about not only the family she had but the family she had found, and the family she had joined since she had met Wendy.

#lydia deetz #delia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland #charles deetz #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #presley ryan #sophia anne caruso #dana steingold #leslie kritzer #kerry butler #rob mcclure #alex brightman #beetlejuice #incorrect beetlejuice quotes #beetlegeuse #beetlejuice the musical #beetlejuice fanfic #beetlejuice fanfiction

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purple-moonlights-blog · 6 years ago

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STRAY KIDS 10th MEMBER AU

Hello there loves 🌸

As always, please feel free to request anything for this AU and give suggestions. If you want to know anything about Nova, feel free to do that too! I would like to hear your opinions about should happen! Currently, all the scenarios are only about major events that had to happen before debut, but please if you have an idea for some random scenario let me know! :) xx

☾☼

btw. I’m so bad with titles, omg

▸ Check out the Profile HERE

▸ Request for the AU HERE

▸ MASTERLIST

Words: 1420

Warnings: Swearing probably ⎮ As always weird grammar and spelling mistakes, English is not my native language⎮

Summary: Stray Kids moving into their new dorm (Basically the 1st ep., but I did change a bit what happened) At the very end it’s like really sappy, lol I’m sorry

IV. 〈MOVING IN〉

(gif not mine)

It was mid-October, thus also the beginning of Star Kids road to debut through the survival show. Which also meant, all of them would move into a dorm together, making so another step on officially being a group.

To be honest, Nova was at first not really excited about moving together. Not because she disliked being around the boys, quite the opposite actually. Over the course of the past month, they grew on her and she felt somewhat protective over them. Especially the youngest two, Jeongin and Seungmin. Probably because she always wanted a younger sibling. She did have her younger cousins, which Nova loved to tease and shower them with love, but at home, she has always been the youngest. It did have its advantages to be youngest - her older brothers, despite their constant mocking, loved to spoil her since she was the baby of the family.

Despite her growing fond of the boys, she was kind of skeptical on moving in with nine guys. Since she was little, she has been around more guys than girls, so her feeling uncomfortable about living with them wasn’t the issue, more she was worried that it would start rumors. She knew how the Internet ticked, more than often they would take something seemingly innocent and turn it into a massive scandal by making stuff up and blowing everything out of proportion. But then again, Nova probably was only overthinking it. Surly did the fans know that there was nothing but friendship between them.

„Man woah, it’s pretty and it doesn’t smell bad,“ Nova called out, as she stepped in their new dorm for the first time and looked around the still empty room. It smelled of fresh paint and cleaning agents, apparently, the dorm has been renovated not long ago.

„What kind of hellhole did you use to live in?“ Felix asked, chuckling about her stunned expression and letting his multiple plush toys drop on the floor for the reason that he wasn’t able to hold them anymore. „It wasn’t bad for a 500 thousand won a month apartment in the city center.“ Remembering back to her old apartment where she moved in at the beginning this year and where it always smelled musty and mold grew uncontrollable the corners.

„This, however,“ she made a sweeping gesture, „is another level. I kind of regret now that I for a second was contemplating on not moving in.“

„Excuse me?“ Jisung said, pretending to be offended. „Only because I don’t want to deal with you 24/7, it’s enough that I see you at the company every day.“ Playfully she stuck her tongue out at him, whereby she immediately had to duck herself, because Jisung threw his pillow at her, which he took with him from the boy's old dorm.

Chan, who just stepped out of one the bedrooms, watched the scenario with raised eyebrows and could only shake his head at them. He still sometimes found himself confused about their friendship, but decided to not further question it and let them be.

„My mum sent me snacks,“ Chan interrupted their play-fight, holding up a cookie package, „in case you two want too.“ Jisung immediately let go of her and rushed to the other room, where the other guys were already devouring the snacks. Nova, however, awkwardly remained standing in the middle of the living room. She was trying to watch her waistline, now, they were appearing on TV. „Cookie?“ Chan offered her and held out the package. „No thank you.“ She refused, giving him a slight smile and then left to join the others.

„Let’s now decide who is with who in a room,” Chan said loudly, as he stepped in after Nova. “So, who wants to be roommates?“ ”Nova, Jeongin and I,“ Jisung immediately said with his mouth full with crisps. „Oh please not,“ Jeongin groaned quietly to himself, even though he liked them a lot, only imaging to be around them and their constant bickering all the time gave him a headache.

„Let’s not put you two,“ Chan pointed at Nova and Jisung, „in the same room. It’s just going to be living hell for whoever has to be with you in a room.“ Jisung softly elbowed Nova in her side to get her attention and whispered, „Maybe it’s really better if we aren’t in a room together. After a week, I would probably want to strangle you.“ Nova snorted, trying to kick him, which Jisung avoided by taking a step back, quietly giggling about her clumsy attempt. „Likewise.“

In the end, they decided that Chan and Changbin get the two people room, in the room for four people were now Felix, Minho, Nova, and Jeongin and in that third room, Jisung, Seungmin, Hyunjin, and Woojin. Putting Jisung, Seungmin, and Hyunjin in the same room didn’t seem very safe. Nova could already imagine the disaster that’s going to happen. Maybe Woojin will keep it under control, he was after all the oldest in the group.

After they settle that, they decided to split up into two groups, one that was responsible for preparing dinner, while the other group set up the furniture for the living area. Nova joined Hyunjin, Changbin, and Minho to go to the convenience store since she wasn’t good with her hands.

„Oh Tteokbokki,“ Minho said abruptly, and picked up rice cakes from the shelf in a convenience store, „Let’s do Tteokbokki!“ „Does anyone of us actually know how to cook?“ Hyunjin asked, looking at the others. „In my old apartment, I haven’t used the stove once,“ Nova confessed with a blank expression, which made the guys laugh. „Don’t tell me you only ate microwavable food,“ Minho asked. Guilty she grinned at him. „That’s so unhealthy!“ Minho exclaimed and laid an arm around her, „Oppa is going to make sure that you are eating properly from now on!“

Since Nova was added to Stray Kids, Minho tried to make her call him Oppa, but which she stubbornly refused.

„Anyway, you can trust me. I know how to do it.“ Minho let go of Nova and put five servings of Tteokbokki sauce into the basket. „Do you really think that he knows what he’s doing?“ Changbin whispered, glancing at his Hyung with doubt. Nova shrugged with her shoulders, as in, they have to wait and see.

„We should take eggs too. Seungnimie loves eggs.“ Hyunjin announced, holding up an egg carton. „We could get soft drinks too, if we have enough money“ Nova suggested, looking at Minho since he was in charge about paying. „Yeah go ahead, choose something,“ he replied.

She quickly searched between the aisle for the drinks and ended up choosing Sprite and Coke, for the simple reason that she knew that the guys liked them the best.

Later, when they returned to the dorm, the four of them began preparing the Tteokbokki, while the others were still struggling to set up the table. Minho took charge and assigned Nova to cut the vegetables. She wanted to grab the big knife but Minho snatched it away from her and instead handed her the small knife.

„Please give me the other knife, I can’t properly cut anything with that,“ she said, holding up the little knife with the green plastic handle. „No, you are going to cut yourself,“ Minho responded, pushing the vegetables over to her and giving her apologetic smile since he knew that Nova hated it when other treat her like a child. „I will not,“ she frowned. Even though she knew that Minho only meant it well, she couldn’t help but feel slightly offended.

Hyunjin, who was busy stuffing his face with cheese mumbled with his mouth full. „Yesterday, you cut yourself while opening a can.“ He pointed at the plaster on her finger and then turned his attention back to the cheese.

Nova didn’t respond anything to that, instead, she began to cut the vegetables while uttering English swear words under her breath, as Changbin and Minho watched the whole situation amused.

Somehow they managed to cook something edible without burning the whole kitchen down, Minho did after all know how to cook. They ate together on the floor in the living room, using one of the cartoons as a table, happily chatting with each other. It was the first time they all had a meal together and as they sat so together, the ten of them, Nova for the first time felt like she really was now a part of Stray Kids.

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angstmatsuscenarios · 6 years ago

Note

some sokudo hurt/comfort with oso helping choro calm down from an anxiety attack?

Sokudo hurt/comfort highlighting Choromatsu’s anxiety is among one of my favorite tropes in this fandom so I was eager to write this one. Poor boy really needs some comforting. Under the cut:

There’s no reason for me to feel anxious…why do I feel so anxious…??

Choromatsu folded his hands in his lap, suddenly aware of how badly his fingers were shaking. He tried to push aside his overactive thoughts and focus on the TV, on whatever inane gameshow Osomatsu had picked for them to watch and was currently laughing his ass of at, but it was like he couldn’t reign his mind in. His thoughts were spinning wildly, spiraling out of control.

Maybe it’s not anxiety. Maybe the doctor was wrong. It could be something worse…way worse. You never know.

Choromatsu’s heart skipped a beat, and he was aware of a sudden tightening feeling in his chest. He tried to suck in a deep breath, but he couldn’t. It was like the air suddenly couldn’t get all the way to his lungs, cut off in his throat instead. The more he tried, the more he felt like he was choking.

It could be your heart. Maybe it’s racing so much right now because you’re going to have a heart attack…maybe something was wrong with your heart this whole time and no one wanted to tell you because they knew you couldn’t take it.

This was stupid. He was being ridiculous and he knew it. The doctor wouldn’t lie to him about his heart…would he? Maybe it was just his anxiety…but hadn’t he read somewhere that people with anxiety were more likely to have heart attacks later in life, something like that…?

He couldn’t remember. He was too distracted by the pain in his chest. That tight sensation was getting worse now, gripping his heart, squeezing his lungs. He tried to gulp down another deep breath, but it stuck in his throat. His forehead broke out in a cold sweat, his entire body feeling tingly and way too hot.

Oh god, I can’t breathe, why can’t I breathe?? Is it because of my chest, why does it hurt so bad so suddenly? Oh my god, is it my heart, am I going to die?

Panic seized him, and he gasped, suddenly struggling for breath.

“Choromatsu…?” Osomatsu turned to glance at him, eyebrows furrowed together. “Are you okay…?”

“I-I think I need to go to the bathroom,” Choromatsu said curtly, standing up quickly and rushing out of the room. He didn’t want Osomatsu to see him like this. His brothers had already seen him like this so many times before, and he hated it, hated feeling so vulnerable all the time and like he needed to be handled so carefully.

He hurried into the bathroom, shutting the door a little too hard behind him. He slid to the floor, clutching the front of his hoodie, his chest heaving as he gasped desperately for air.

I can’t breathe…I can’t breathe…has it ever been this bad before?! I’m going to die, I’m really going to die like this, aren’t I? It hurts, my chest hurts…

He felt dangerously close to passing out. The edges of his vision went fuzzy and dark, and he was getting lightheaded. This wasn’t good, this wasn’t good at all…

A knock on the door made him jump. “Choromatsu? Are you in there?”

Osomatsu. His voice was muffled on the other side of the door, but he sounded worried.

“Y-yes,” Choromatsu managed to croak out.

“Are you okay?”

Just tell him yes, don’t let him in…

Choromatsu drew in a rattling breath that barely met his lungs, his chest burning.

“N-no,” he answered in a wavering voice, tears pooling up in his eyes. “I’m n-not, p-please I need help…”

In no time Osomatsu had thrown open the door and kneeled down in front of Choromatsu, eyes flickering with alarm at his brother’s obvious distress. “Panic attack?” He didn’t even have to ask. He already knew.

Choromatsu could only nod in response, hyperventilating. “C-can’t breathe…m-my chest hurts…”

“Okay.” Osomatsu took control then, placing his hands on Choromatsu’s shoulders, his grip tight and reassuring. “You know what to do. We’ll do it together, okay? It’ll all be fine, you are going to be fine.”

Choromatsu wanted to believe him, but it was hard. Even though he’d been through this so many times before, it was always so hard to convince himself he’d be okay.

“We’re just gonna focus on breathing now. Okay? Just do what I do, just like before.”

Choromatsu managed a tiny nod.

“Breathe in–” Osomatsu inhaled through his nose, held it for a few seconds, and exhaled slowly though his mouth. “–and out.”

Choromatsu did as instructed, his breath shuddering as he let it out too quickly.

“Good. A little slower this time, alright? Let’s keep trying.” Osomatsu’s voice was calm and comforting as he spoke.

He demonstrated again, and Choromatsu followed his lead, his breaths short and shallow at first but gradually improving. Osomatsu murmured comforting words to him the entire time, mostly meaningless rambling, but encouraging nonetheless. It was amazing, really, just how trustworthy Osomatsu could be in a situation like this, and Choromatsu was so grateful for it.

Eventually, Choromatsu was managing to breathe normally on his own again. The tightness in his chest had loosened up some, and although his breaths were still a little shaky he could at least inhale deeply.

“Feel a little better?” Osomatsu asked gently, moving his hands to Choromatsu’s and giving them a little squeeze.

No, not really. But he just nodded a little, wiping at the tears still in his eyes with the sleeve of his hoodie.

“Want a cup of tea, maybe? I’ll make you some.”

“Okay…thank you.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Osomatsu helped ease Choromatsu back to his feet. Choromatsu’s legs were quaking at first, but Osomatsu kept a protective hold on him until he could regain his balance.

Choromatsu wordlessly followed his brother into the kitchen, and sat down at the table while Osomatsu put a kettle of water on the stove to boil and started getting out cups and the tea.

“….Osomatsu?”

“Yeah?” Osomatsu glanced at Choromatsu curiously.

“Do you….do you think I’m…” He tried searching for the right word but couldn’t find it.

“What?” Osomatsu sat down across from Choromatsu, looking him in the eye.

“I guess…not normal?” Choromatsu finally made himself say, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat.

“Why would I think that?” Osomatsu asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You know…” Choromatsu wrung his hands, lowering his gaze to the tabletop, his vision blurring with tears again. “Because…because I’m like this. I just…I feel anxious a lot, and sometimes have panic attacks for no reason…” He shut his eyes tight, blocking the tears there from falling. “That’s…that’s weird, isn’t it?”

“Choromatsu…no. Not at all.” Osomatsu’s voice was firm and sincere. “You have anxiety. Sometimes you overthink, and sometimes you have panic attacks. But that doesn’t make you not normal.”

“It feels like it, though…none of you have to deal with this. Sometimes I feel like an outcast in my own family…like everyone else is okay, and then there’s me. The freak who’s always breaking down.” Choromatsu sniffled, his chin quivering. “Why do I have to be this way…?”

Osomatsu stood up, and wound his arms around Choromatsu in a hug. “Choro, that doesn’t make you an outcast. We know it’s hard for you, and we want to help…I mean, when you actually let us help. But never once have we seen you as anything but our brother. You’re not weird, you’re not a freak. You’re just Choromatsu to us.”

“Even w-with my anxiety?” Choromatsu asked, sniffling more, leaning into Osomatsu’s embrace.

“Of course! That’s just part of you. It sucks, but you just have to deal with it. And it’s not like you’re the only person in the world with anxiety, either.”

The kettle on the stove emitted a high-pitched whistle then, signaling that the water was ready, and Osomatsu pulled away from Choromatsu to finish making the tea. He sat down again a few minutes later, placing a steaming cup in front of Choromatsu.

“Thank you,” Choromatsu said quietly, after a minute.

“No problem.” Osomatsu sipped his tea.

“No, I mean, like…for everything.”

“Yeah. Like I said, no problem. I’m always here for you.” Osomatsu gave him a small smile. “But maybe you should talk to the doctor again. There must be something else they can do to help…because I don’t wanna see you feel this bad again. It’s hard seeing you be so down on yourself. I want my brothers to be happy, y’know?”

“I know.” Choromatsu blew on his tea, then took a sip. The thought of going back to the doctor, of confessing he wasn’t doing okay and needed help, made his heart pound. But he didn’t want to keep feeling like this, either.

He wanted to be happy, too.

#osomatsu san #osomatsu san angst #sokudo #anxiety choromatsu #anxiety #anxiety attack #panic attack #hurt/comfort

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winter-soldier-writer-blog · 7 years ago

Text

You Need a Maid? Chapter 19

Fandom: Avengers / Marvel Rating: G / PG13 / R Warnings: Disclaimer: I don’t own Marvel, blah legal stuff. Don't sue me, I'm poor. Songs:

Chapter Menu

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With your mini vacation over you and Natasha returned to the house half expecting it to be burned to the ground. You were surprised to find it not only in one piece but at peace as well. It seemed the tension between Sam and Bucky had resolved itself in your absence and they were a least being civil to one another. Kind of.

You found them in the kitchen, Bucky reading some magazine, while Sam ate a bowl of cereal. You noticed them stiffen slightly when you entered.

"Hey Y/N," said Sam through a mouthful of Fruit Loops. You smiled and waved.

"Hey, guys. Thanks for keeping the house in one piece while I was gone." They both gave a nod, and you lingered for a second before feeling awkward. Time to make an exit. You hoisted your bag back onto your shoulder and made way to your room. Things were still going to be a little weird for a while, but at least you weren't fighting anymore. ----------

Things had gotten back on track, the team coming and going with missions and you cleaning the house as per usual. Tensions seemed to have cleared, and although things were a little awkward with Sam and Bucky, you managed. But today karma had decided to bite you in the ass. You didn't wake up on the wrong side of bed, you fell out of it, literally, and that was just the beginning.

Sam came rushing into the kitchen, the fire alarm jolting him out of his nap. He held the fire extinguisher in his hand, ready to jump into action. Instead of a fire, he found you at the stove, looking like a truck ran over you.

"What's going on, is everything okay?" He set the extinguisher down on the counter, looking at you with concern. You held a cookie sheet in your gloved hands, a look of pure anger and disgust on your face.

"I burnt dinner." You threw the cookie sheet with the charred remains of what once resembled food into the sink. Sam jumped at the crash. You went to the fire alarm on the wall and waved a towel in front of it, clearing the smoke, and it shut up finally. Fucking thing.

"I fucking burnt dinner." You said it again, for emphasis. You know, in case he didn't catch it the first time. You were just so done. It was like Satan had circled today on his calendar and decided today was going to be the day you paid for all of your crimes against humanity.

"It's oka--"

"Today has been shit." You didn't even care if he asked, he was going to hear about your terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.

"I fell going up the stairs, twice." You lifted your arm, showing him the bruises to prove it. "Then I broke three glasses while putting dishes away. After that, I thought I'd take a bath to try to relax. I dropped my phone in the tub." You didn't even want to show him your phone. It was dead. Your precious baby was dead. "And now, dinner is ruined."

Sam stepped forward, gently putting a hand on your shoulder, trying to comfort you. You grumbled incoherently.

"It's alright, I promise. These days happen."

"But what about dinner." It was all you could focus on. The damn burnt dinner, sitting in the sink. The charred rocks mocked you. Why Y/N, why! Sam smiled, having an idea.

"Let's go get dinner somewhere. Get out of the house, my treat. It's not like there's anyone else but you and me to feed." He had a point, the rest of the team was gone, leaving just the two of you in the house. You nodded, maybe getting away from the house would break the curse.

"I'll go change and we can go." You hurried off to your room to change out of the dirty clothes you had been wearing. Returning in a dress and wedges. You looked a lot less like a truck had run over you. Bicycle maybe. You looked cute, and it was totally not on purpose. You had grabbed the first thing out of your closet but had somehow managed to get dressed up to go out with Sam. He seemed to notice and raised an eyebrow at your outfit, but you didn't notice.

The two of you hopped in his car, and Sam drove, taking you to, where else, your favorite place. Sam definitely knew how to make you feel better. You grabbed a table, and before you knew it orders were in and you had nothing but time to kill.

It was a little strange, being out like this with Sam. It had been a long time since you had been out on a date. But this wasn't a date. You looked down at your cute dress, and around at your favorite restaurant. It felt kind of like a date. Shit. You looked at Sam, he just smiled absently at you. You couldn't deny that you had been thinking about him a lot lately, and thinking a lot about what you had said in your drunken stupor. Yes, you had remembered. An awkward silence came between you and you shifted in your seat, trying to think.

"How's Redwing?" You asked, something finally popping in your head. Sam lit up, no one else ever asked about him. You were the only one to ever take an interest.

"He's doing great! On the last mission--" Sam started to ramble on about how well Redwing had done, and you watched him, a small smile creeping on your face. The way he talked about his birdbot was incredibly adorable.

"How's...the laundry?" He asked and you started laughing. Things started to loosen up and conversation between you started flowing freely. You watched him talk and realized you never noticed the way his face lit up when he talked about something he loved or the way his smile started in his eyes and spread across his face. You felt a tug in your heart, and a little voice inside you crept up and whispered in your ear. I miss him.

When the food came you were both starving and devoured your meals like hungry lions. You talked more over milkshakes, your favorite nondessert dessert, laughing the entire time. God, you had really missed him. Sam paid the bill and you walked out to the car to leave. You bit your lip, thinking. You weren't quite ready to go home yet.

"Hey, let's not go back to the house just yet." You offered, and he paused from putting the car in drive, looking over at you quizzically.

"What do you want to do?" It was getting late, close to sunset, and you thought about it for a minute before thinking of the perfect place.

"The tower." He knew exactly where you meant, and it made him smile. He put the car in drive and you took off.

You pulled into the dirt parking lot at the park; the sun just starting to lower in the sky. A 76-foot-tall observatory stood in the middle of the park and that was your destination. You had pulled off your wedges making it easier to climb up the steel steps to the top. Finally there you and Sam perched yourselves on one of the benches, just in time to catch the sunset.

"I missed it up here." You panted, trying to catch your breath. The climb up was tiresome but well worth it. Sam let out a sigh. "So have I, it's beautiful." You were so focused on the sky that you missed him glance at you.

The sky turned shades of orange and pink as the sun descended and the moon took its place in the sky. When the sky was finally dark you looked up, searching for stars. The moon was full tonight, illuminating the sky enough for you to still see each other. Sam knew exactly what you were looking for and he found it first, pointing it out. "Over there, see?" You looked and there it was, your favorite constellation shining brightly in the night sky.

"I forgot how much I missed looking at stars. I only ever did it with you," he said and you felt his hand brush against your on the bench. "I haven't done it much lately either." You smiled up at him and got stuck in his eyes. The way the moonlight illuminated his face was striking and beautiful, and it shimmered in his eyes like a jewel. You felt caught, and he seemed to look at you with the same gaze of wonder as if you were both transfixed by the beauty of the moon on each other's faces.

"You know this moon...it does things to you." He grinned, and you laughed a little, flashing him a coy smile. You could feel the gravitational pull of your bodies as you both moved towards each other, somehow his hand found it's way to your cheek, and you were blushing a rosy pink that made you glow in the moonlight.

"They say the full moon makes you go crazy," you teased. He pulled your face closer until your lips just barely brushed against each other. "I don't know, I feel pretty sane right now," he muttered against your mouth. You couldn't take anymore and you pressed your mouth against his, capturing him in a kiss. Your kiss was gentle and soft and over much too soon. You pulled apart both smiling. Though you weren't sure what this meant.

"Sammy, I don't know if I-"

"It's okay, let's not overthink it."

You smiled up at him, thankful, even though your mind was already spinning.

-------

@thatweirdgaygirl @elyza-jeanette @unicornqueen05 @gerardwayisapotato

#avengers fanfiction #reader x avengers #avengers #avengers fanfic #sam wilson #the falcon #the winter soldier #bucky barnes #captain america #steve rogers #tony stark #iron man #natasha romanoff #black widow #winter-soldier-writer

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