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oro-e-diamanti · 3 years ago

Text

Quiet Music: Obbligato (Chapter Seven)

In collaboration with @bethanysnow

Off to the races with no time for nights gone wrong. Being at a wit's end deserves a reward, one of teasing breaths and words, adding to the stories the hallway could tell. Vulnerable words pinned to the wall and kissing it all better.

Content | Fluff

Pairing | fem!Reader x Damiano

Word Count | 7187

***

The morning was awkward, to say the least. Y/n had woken up first and before she could even look at the man beside her, her phone started ringing, management was calling. So she was off to work. No time for the thoughts that were still running around in her mind. No time to process.

They didn’t get to talk, she and Damiano. Both of them were hurrying to get packed up and get the others woken up to then get to the airport. It seemed impossible to find a quiet minute with just the two of them, some privacy, some peace of mind. The call from that morning was their manager, who had already been up for two hours ranting about some of the changes that needed to be made. Today it was going from zero to one hundred with no end in sight.

She had hoped things would calm down as they reached the airport, but chaos seemed to follow wherever they went. It started with Victoria panicking because she couldn’t locate her jacket anymore - she made sure to let everyone in the greater vicinity know that it was her absolute favourite and she had worn it in Rotterdam and she could not go anywhere, much less fly to London, without it. Luckily this ended up being one of Y/n’s easiest tricks that day. After retracing their steps throughout the terminal the jacket was quickly reclaimed from a lovely barista at a café who had collected it for safekeeping.

Y/n was hoping to catch her breath for a moment, but then Chili was being an absolute nuisance. Contrary to her normally chill and relaxed state of being, she now insisted on being cuddled and petted and having all the attention on her. Unfortunately, no one’s but Y/n’s attention would do, so she was stuck with a wriggling fur ball in her arms for the foreseeable future. It didn’t help when Ethan ran up to her in a panic, having realised that his hairbrush was missing. She wanted to calm him down, explain that there were more than enough shops to get a new one in London, but apparently, there was no hairbrush quite like it as if it was the magical reason behind his shiny hair. So with a sigh and Chili pressed against her, she called the hotel in Amsterdam requesting for them to look for the missing item and please send it to London. Express. They would be there for three days and it better arrive during that time. The confused receptionist promised to do her best.

When Y/n heavily fell into her seat on the plane she was looking forward to either a quick nap or a chance to talk to Damiano, who she conveniently chose to sit next to, but all plans evaporated as soon as Thomas claimed the aisle seat, excitedly chattering away. She could tell he was looking forward to getting back to London and having some free time there on top of it, but she really didn’t need to hear the story of how they all lived there for a while yet again. Damiano sent her a pitiful look, but all she could do was shrug. Shrug, lean back, and let Thomas’ talk lure her into sleep, hopefully.

***

Luckily, the flight wasn’t as bad this time around. Y/n still held tightly to her coat on lift-off and landing, but that seemed to be the extent of her uncomfortableness. Damiano kept his eyes on her, on the bandage around her wrist, as if waiting for it to come undone and her right along with it. It didn’t happen. They touched down in London within less than an hour.

Heathrow airport was crowded with fans. For the first time on that tour, it had gotten really bad. Security managed to keep people at bay though as the band and crew made their exit, not stopping for photos and full of apologies for having to leave. The shouting, the reaching hands, and the flashing cameras seemingly did nothing to improve Y/n’s mood, Damiano thought. Her face remained neutral, but he could see the little signs underneath. A short cab ride later, and the usual busy atmosphere of arriving at a hotel for the first time engulfed them. People moving luggage, figuring out rooming arrangements, crowding the lobby. Damiano stayed out of it, smoking a quick cigarette with Thomas and Ethan outside, before heading inside as well.

Damiano didn’t notice that anything was wrong until Y/n started raising her voice. It wasn’t like her. In the past two weeks of working with her, he had encountered her in a number of stressful situations. Enough that would make him lose his mind, but she was calm and collected, the type to take a deep breath instead of shouting at someone. So the way she was currently staring down the receptionist at the hotel that they were checking into both intrigued and bothered him. Trying not to draw too much attention to himself, he got closer to the scene, fumbling with some of their luggage standing next to the desk, just to listen in more closely.

“Check again, please,” Y/n requested, politeness nothing but a necessary feature in this conversation. “I do not have the time or the patience to deal with this mistake at this current moment.”

Damiano could see she was at her wit’s end, yet the need to stay professional was obvious.

“Bloody hell... You’d think after all of today at least one thing would go well. But no, I am stuck dealing with a broken computer and missing rooms.”

The man behind the counter sent her a slightly panicky look, hands shuffling between papers and typing on the keyboard in front of him.

“I can only apologise, I will do my absolute best to rectify this mistake,” the receptionist stated, voice much less steady than Y/n’s. She shook her head slightly, pulling out her phone and starting to type something into it. Probably updating their manager on what is happening.

“I sincerely hope that this is the last of the mistakes your hotel will be committing. We’re paying good money for this hotel, but London is big and I don’t think anyone would hesitate to book us somewhere else next time if the service here doesn’t suffice.” The air around her felt like static electricity, everything was prickly and on fire. “Now, please check again and then either have the correct number of rooms waiting for us or figure out another way to solve this problem. I know this probably isn’t your fault, but this needs a solution.”

The man standing in front of them quickly understood what was being asked of him. Y/n's body had remained creepily still through this, her eyes never leaving the person in front of her.

It was over as soon as it hard started. The receptionist handed her the keys and quickly mumbled something about the rooms being on the fifth floor and to the left. Y/n nodded, not necessarily happy, but visibly glad it was over. Turning around she faced Dami with an indescribable look on her face. He couldn’t believe what just happened, and how it was handled by their assistant. Looking at her right now she was agitated, sure, but whatever power she had just possessed? Damiano wanted to see it again.

***

The band crowded into the lift, and with each ding passing a floor Damiano’s need to do something grew. Attention was an easy thing for the singer to come by. Most of the time it was freely given and even then tenfold due to - well, Damiano being Damiano. But wanting attention was different, and wanting her attention, in particular, was a relatively new concept.

“Fifth Floor,” the monotone voice announced. Y/n made quick work handing everyone their room keys until she was only hanging to her own and Damiano’s. He took his chance.

“Can I walk you to your room?”

“Sure,” she answered, but the look in her eyes told him she was a little suspicious of his actions.

As they got closer to the door Damiano saw his chance. Reassuring himself that the hallway was now deserted of his bandmates, he quickly grabbed her - healthy! - wrist, turning her around and pressing her against the wall next to the door. Her expression was one of shock and surprise as he moved in closer, keeping her wrist against the wall and trapping her between his arms as he leaned against his hand on the other side of her head. Her breathing quickened noticeably and he couldn’t suppress a grin as he watched her look into his eyes, before flickering down to his lips and back up again. There was very little doubt concerning what she was thinking about. He had her in the palm of his hand. Right where he wanted her.

“You know, seeing you getting all hot and bothered down there… Very sexy.” His voice was low and gravelly. He was doing his absolute best to get her to falter under him, not shying away from employing all the tricks in the book. He moved in even closer now, only breaking eye contact when the angle made it impossible. His mouth to her ear, not quite touching, but close enough that he was sure she could feel his breath on her skin. “I should thank you… for all the… hard work you do.”

He resisted the temptation of pushing into her, letting his body collide with hers, letting her know exactly what he was talking about. Not now, not yet, he told himself. Instead, his hand carefully let go of her wrist, travelling down her arm, her side, across her body, with the softest touch, until he reached her other hand, which was grasping tightly onto the remaining room key. In a flash, he had snatched it out of her palm, backed away from her, and with a wink and a smirk that hopefully told her all she needed to know, he turned around to make his way to his room.

“Damiano! We still need to talk!” Y/n whisper-shouted. One look at her face was enough. Her skin had turned that favorable shade of red that Damiano had grown to love so much. She was still leaning against the wall, apparently not trusting her feet to carry her just yet. As he made his way to his room he couldn’t help but notice the bubbling of pride in his chest. Whatever she wanted to talk about, he was convinced it was going to go his way.

***

There was one person in this entire world that would be able to help sort out the mess in Y/n’s head. Stepping out onto the balcony, she quickly clicked her best friend’s name. One, two rings, and the familiar face popped up on her screen with a wide smile.

“Hi, love! How- oh my god, what is wrong?” Y/n’s face had always been much too easy to read for her friends.

“Nothing’s wrong,” Y/n protested, but the way her friend raised her eyebrows let her know that she would not get away with it. “Fine, that was a lie. Couple of things have gone wrong actually. Starting with my wrist!”

Y/n held the offending body park up into view, speech getting quicker as she continued.

“Fell onto it trying to escape Damiano and a private conversation he had with Victoria that I probably shouldn’t have heard. But I did, and I’ve not been able to stop thinking about it, and it’s bothering me quite a bit actually, which is silly, because all I’m supposed to do here is my job, right? But now I think that he doesn’t want to be in the same space as me, which is a problem, to say the least, but at the same time he does? He literally just got all up in my space actually, so I don’t know what’s happening?”

“Wow okay, take a breath and start from the beginning, please.”

And so Y/n did, catching her friend up on every single detail of the past days, every little look, every single word uttered, every movement made. She didn’t spare a single detail or blush-inducing moment.

“I don’t know what to do, or think, or say. I think I know what is happening, but then he turns around and does the opposite of what I’m expecting. It's infuriating.”

“Ah yes, let me guess. He’s constantly around, whatever you do? Checkin up on your, catching your eyes, always happens to sit next to you?”

“He does… Why do I feel like everyone here knows what is going on but me?”

"Y/n, listen. You're my best friend, but you're the dumbest human being I've ever encountered. It is so obvious that he likes you, it's almost painful to hear you talk about and not realise. Look at the way he is taking care of you, the way he tries to make you laugh, how he constantly wants your attention on him - why on earth do you think he's doing that? You need to talk to him, seriously."

“But I overheard-”

"You didn't hear shit! You don't even know the context of what he said! Now listen to me: You like him. He likes you. If I'm wrong about this, I'll personally allow you to come back home and beat me up ok?" A sigh came through the line, her friend's voice getting softer. "I know the past years have been hard on you. And I know you don't like letting people in. But you've got to take a chance every now and then and Damiano sounds like he'll be worth it. From what you've told me, it sounds like he sees you exactly for what you are: brilliant, clever, caring, beautiful. Don't let this go to waste, love."

"You know I hate it when you're right. But you probably are." Y/n felt much calmer already, even though the mere thought of having that talk with Damiano made her feel slightly queasy again. "I should talk to him. My head will never stop spinning otherwise."

"Well, I love it when I'm right! So I'm hanging up right now so you can go talk to him, bye love!"

Her face disappeared from the screen in an instant.

***

“She’s right, you know? You should talk to him.” Victoria watched as Y/n almost jumped at the sound of her voice. She had concentrated so hard on whoever she was video-calling that she hadn’t noticed her enter the balcony next door. Now, Vic hadn’t meant to listen, but privacy on tour was a fickle thing and as soon as she realised what - or who - the topic of conversation was, she couldn’t help herself.

“Oh! Hi, Vic. Sorry, what?” Y/n asked, quite obviously startled. “I’m assuming you heard most of that conversation then.”

“I did. But that’s okay, please don’t worry about it. You know, I’m saying this as your friend as well as Damiano’s friend: Talk this thing out, whatever it is. We’ve all been watching you dance around each other, but one of you needs to have the guts to make a move. I know Damiano seems like a cocky know-it-all sometimes, but if you get down to it, he’s just as insecure and shy. So I think this is on you. Invite him over, order some room service, have a talk. If it goes poorly, you can always text me and I’ll come over. And help you finish the food.”

Victoria was glad to see Y/n let out a small giggle. Over the course of the whole tour, she had never seen her quite this stressed out. Sooner or later it would impact her job performance - just as it was starting to affect Damiano’s. She’d long noticed how distracted he was. It didn’t even matter whether Y/n was in the room or not, his thoughts constantly seemed to be spinning around the same thing. The same person, rather. At this point, it was in everyone’s best interest to get these two to talk it out. She trusted them to be sensible enough about it not to let it affect their work if it went wrong. At least not the way their mutual obsession with each other was doing now.

Y/n nodded.

“Thanks, Vic. What do I have to lose, right? I mean, a lot, technically, but you know. Thanks.”

Victoria watched as Y/n shot her one more worried look, before turning and getting back to her room. She made sure to shout after her just before the door closed.

“Tell me how it goes!”

***

“It’s going to be fine, it’s going to be fine, this is going to go my way, I’m going to say my part and it will all be fine,” Y/n mumbled to herself as she paced back and forth in her hotel room. Time and time again, she found herself checking her phone, needing to convince herself she had actually sent the message to Damiano, inviting him to her room for a conversation. He hadn’t replied, but the little blue check marks told her he had read it.

Okay, keep calm. You're going to have a conversation about this, like the adults that you are. You ask to clarify what you overheard and you'll stay calm, whatever his answer is. At the end of the day, this is work. And if you need to cry, you can do it once he's left. Easy.

A knock on the door interrupted her thought process. For a moment, she considered ignoring it. Pretending like she wasn’t there. But that wasn’t going to work, was it? Not forever, anyway.

“Y/n, you said you wanted to talk?” Damiano’s voice came from the other side of the door.

Time to face the music, I guess, Y/n thought to herself. With a deep breath, she opened the door and stepped to the side to let him in. Damiano hesitated for a second, as if contemplating how to greet her, but then simply smiled at her before stepping in. The nervous energy engulfed both of them immediately and she caught him looking around the room for a moment before deciding to take a seat at the foot of her bed. She couldn’t even think about sitting down. Instead, she was pacing the room like a caged animal.

“Um, so, I called you here for a meeting.” Y/n picked at her nails looking anywhere in the room that wasn’t at Damiano.

“A meeting? Y/n, really?” He chuckled. “If these meetings involve me visiting your hotel room, feel free to invite me over for them more often.”

“Damiano! I’m trying to be serious here!”

“Sorry, sorry, go ahead.” He waved at her to continue as he leaned back on the bed. He looked delectable, and Y/n had to actively tear her eyes away to focus on what she had meant to talk about with him.

“I overheard you and Vic talking at the second-hand shop. Something about you not wanting me around? Before I overthink this even more than I already have, I should probably ask you what that was about.” She stopped pacing and quickly looked at Damiano waiting for a reaction.

“Wait, you heard that?” He suddenly sat up again, urgency visible in his face. “Did you hear the whole thing or… only me saying that?”

“Only that apparently ‘I'm everywhere you look’ and you can’t seem to get rid of me.” She forced a scoff, although she would rather cry at the memory if she was being honest. “I know I shouldn’t have heard that conversation, but I did. And I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. That's why I ran out of the shop.”

She watched as Damiano buried his head in his hands, making a sound that was something between a laugh and a groan. “Seems like you missed the important part.” A deep sigh rattled through his chest as he looked up at her. “What I said before that was that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. About kissing you. That’s why it’s so hard to see you everywhere, to have you around so much.” He slowly stood up, walking over to her in tentative movements. “It’s because I want to kiss you all the time.”

She took a step back, crossing her arms in front of her chest. Anything to protect herself, to keep up some sort of composure. Letting her guard down too early was the worst thing she felt she could do. An expression that was both alarmed and confused flashed across her face. “You - wait … no, that's not - hold on.” She squinted her eyes at him trying to figure out if there was any hint of deception in him. “You wouldn’t lie to me… would you?”

He stood in front of her now, eyes staring her down with nothing but honesty. “I like to joke around but not with things like these, okay? I would never put you in that position. But when we accidentally kissed in Amsterdam? I wish it hadn’t been accidental at all.” His hand was reaching out to her, softly touching her arm, as if to test the waters. To see if she would pull away.

She stayed quiet for what felt like an eternity. Yet, she didn’t move away from him this time. “I’m sorry... for how I acted at the hospital. I didn’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do with you most of the time it seems.” A small smile flickered on her lips, unable to keep it at bay. “I’m sorry, I’m… not all that good at being vulnerable. In case that hadn’t become obvious yet. But I agree, you know. Kissing you should be on purpose.”

“It’s fine, it was a rough day. Now that I know what you heard, even more so for you,” he smiled back at her. His hand was wandering up her arm now, softly resting on her shoulder, just inches away from the bare skin on her neck. She was sure she could feel his warmth there already. “We’ll figure it out together, yeah? Starting with an actual kiss? On purpose?”

She blinked at him, before looking down at his chest, slowly grabbing onto the collar of his shirt. Playing the fabric between her fingers, anything to keep her nervousness under control. “Yeah, that would be good. Gotta test it out, right?” She looked back up at him, a pink tint growing across her cheeks.

“Yeah, just a test,” he mumbled, coming closer still. His hand wandered further upwards, tingling along her bare skin, before softly grabbing her neck to pull her into him. He was moving slowly, almost tormentingly so, as his breath fanned her face, eyes wandering back and forth between her own and her mouth. Her heart was beating impossibly fast now. If he wasn’t going to do anything soon, she would collapse, she was sure of it.

“Just kiss me already.”

And then his lips were on hers, soft and gentle, but with a force behind it that let her know he meant it. It was nothing like the kiss in Amsterdam. This was a kiss with purpose, long-lived desire finally being realised, feeling poured into every move they made. If this was a test, they were passing it with flying colours. Everything felt simply right. His lips against hers, his hand tangling in her hair, her arms wrapping themselves around him. Any doubt whether this was the right thing to do, whether this was what she wanted, ceased to exist. She couldn’t tell how long they were standing there, kissing, exploring, enjoying each other, but when they finally parted, she found herself catching her breath. Silly smiles painted on both of their faces. She buried her face in his chest, almost a little embarrassed now.

“That went well,” she giggled, unlike she did in Amsterdam. This high was different.

Damiano’s hand pushed a strand of her hair back behind her ear, tender touch lasting on her face a little too long, but she wouldn’t complain. He quickly pressed another needy kiss against her lips, before pulling her to sit on the bed with him. “So, now what? Not that I wasn’t enjoying that, but we should probably talk about where we’re gonna go from here.”

She nodded. “Well, work comes first. Not that I wasn’t having fun either. But, both of us know that the most important thing is you performing the best you can. I guess we go with your plan. Figure it out together. I don’t want to force anything.” Always trying to ground herself back into reality - it was the way she was built. A moment of insanity, yes, but never more. “Though, on days off… if you...” Her mouth opened but no more words came.

“I like the sound of that,” Damiano grinned, seemingly unable to stop himself from stealing another kiss from her lips. “And on days off...? Say it, Y/n, no need for shyness here.”

“Ah!” Grabbing a pillow off the bed, she smacked him playfully. “I was trying to have a semi-serious conversation here, Dami!” Her face screwed into a pout, before transforming into a teasing smile. “If you’re gonna be like that, you won’t hear my idea at all.”

He immediately let go of her, hands in the air in surrender. “Fine, woman, no more teasing from me… for now.”

She leaned in closer. “Is that a threat? Or a promise? I was gonna say we could go out on a date. But,” she shrugged, “up to you.” Standing up she walked over to the phone on the desk, picking up the room service menu with her other hand. “Do you want anything? If we are gonna figure this out, we might as well have food.” It was no secret that she was trying to create space between the two of them. A little distance, a little chance to breathe, too afraid of a fire being set ablaze if they stayed any closer.

“Whatever pizza they have, please. It won’t quite be like home but even bad pizza is still pizza.” He watched as she picked up the phone, quickly muttering some words he didn’t understand down the line. “And then come back here. We should probably talk some more.”

She nodded, quickly finishing the conversation on the line, before sitting back down on the bed next to him, backs resting against the headboard. “Alright, so, talk about what? I know there are things to discuss but, what are you thinking right now?”

“How do you want to go on about this?” He asked, taking her hand and playing with it absentmindedly. “Do you want to tell the others anything?”

“We have to tell Vic, probably. She’ll never get off our case otherwise. Apart from that... I assumed that we would sort of make up for lost time. Be a bit more open, affection-wise. Or at least not feel like we have to hide it when I wanna kiss you. I don’t want to say we are dating. I don’t want to put a label on something that's this new. Rushing into something like this is just a recipe for hurt.” She found herself staring into the distance for a moment, thoughts running away with her, before turning back to him. “Do you want to tell people? I mean if you did that would be fine. I’d manage, you know.”

“No, actually. I’m quite fine with as few people knowing as possible. I just… There’s no need to get everyone involved in something that we’re literally still figuring out ourselves, right? And I definitely don’t need the fans to know. At least not yet. If that’s okay with you?”

“Dami, you do know that, if this becomes a long-term thing... They will hate me. It won’t be just your fans either. Management, event organisers, they won’t want me there, people will tell you to break up with me all the time. There will be a lot of rude comments. People will edit me out of pictures. Because that's how it is. Are you sure you’re okay with all that? This won’t be easy and I wouldn’t want to stand in the way of your success. The band's success.” She wasn’t making eye contact now, nervously picking at her nails instead. This was his chance to step back, to change his mind, and she was more afraid of it than she let on.

“Well, first of all, they can all fuck off, okay? No one gets to talk about you like that, not in front of me. If they don’t see you the way that I see you - or at least respect it-, they’re no real fans anyway.” He reached out, softly holding onto her chin and turning her face towards him. “I don’t care about anyone but you in this, okay? If anything, you’re the one pushing me to go farther, work harder, be better. Yeah?”

“I didn’t know you felt that way.” Her hand went to the one holding her face, kissing his palm and then pressing it into her cheek. “I mean it though. It will be hard and confusing, and I am not that good at communicating my feelings. You could have anyone in the world and you picked me which I will never understand, but I’m thankful for it. Both of us are workaholics. It won’t just be you having a busy schedule. Are you absolutely positive? Because if not...”

Taking her face into both of his hands now, he made sure she was looking at him. “I am more than positive. I want this, I want you, I want it all. And I’m willing to do whatever it takes for you to believe that.” He pressed another kiss to her lips, warm and inviting, and she was sure she could feel every single one of his emotions in it. There was nothing but love. Coming up for air, they let their foreheads meet, a moment of unspoken agreement.

“We will do it together, yeah?” She whispered as she pressed a kiss onto his lips once again before her face broke out in a grin. “Fuckin hell… Sorry, I just realized that we can kiss and hug and everything all the time now and without it being weird.” Grabbing his hand and interlacing their fingers, she rested her head on his shoulder. Both of them simply content in the silence of the room and the company of each other. After a while, Y/n looked up at him again. “Do you have any concerns though?”

“No real worries. Just... I don’t know. I just want to stare at you for a bit. Do you even know how crazy you make me? Throughout this whole tour I have been losing my mind!” His eyes flickered over her face, down her body, and back up. He kissed the top of her head. “Y/n you have no clue what you do to me. You remember when you body checked that guy into the wall in Germany?” She nodded as he lowered his head to whisper in her ear. “Cold showers did nothing for me that night.”

Giggles rattled her chest as she hid her face in her hand, feeling a slight blush coming on.

“Hey, no hiding that face from me!” Grabbing at her hands, he tried to pull them back down, but she resisted through her laughter. Desperately trying to pry her hands away, Damiano pinned her down onto the bed, back flush against the mattress, but he still wasn’t succeeding. In a last-ditch effort, he straddled her ample hips. The surprise of it all had her removing her hands on her own immediately, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Now, was that so hard?”

In one quick move, she locked her knees under his and flipped him over, making her sit on top of him. His body thudded into the mattress, jaw dropping, and a little hint of a blush appearing out of nowhere.

“Sorry love, won’t happen again,” she grinned, sending him another wink, before getting off of the stunned singer.

Y/n jumped up off the bed and started to rummage through the mini-fridge. Behind her, she heard the unmistakable sound of Damiano’s phone vibrating. And again. And again.

“What’s going on with that thing?” She asked over her shoulder, unable to hide a grin. Damiano sighed heavily, reading through the messages that seemed to keep coming.

“It’s Vic.”

“What’s she saying?”

Another buzzing sound interrupted them.

“Asking if we’re making out yet. Letting us know that she can hear us laughing. Wanting to know if we’ve fucked yet. Complaining that I’m not answering her messages.”

Damiano’s speech was, in turn, interrupted by Y/n’s phone letting out a similar buzzing noise. With a frown on her face, she gathered it from the nightstand, only to erupt into giggles at the message displayed on her screen.

“What’s so funny?”

“Vic has written, and I quote: ‘As happy as I am that this seems to be going well, I was actually looking forward to indulging in room-service food with you’ with a lot of frowny emojis added.”

Forming a fist with his hand, Damiano roughly hit the wall behind him - the one he knew connected the room to Victoria’s.

“Go get your own room service!” He shouted, and the laughter on the other side, paired with a flurry of emojis reaching both of their phones shortly after let them know she had heard.

“Oh stop it, whatever will you do without a bassist if she starves!” Y/n laughed. “Wait, how’s this.” Y/n coughed, preparing to change her voice into the best impression of Victoria she could muster. “Dami, you bastardo! Give me food!”

A knock on the door - much too polite to be Victoria’s - caught their attention, and Y/n scrambled to open it. A little wagon full of silver plates adorned with various meals greeted her. Not even caring about the confused look on the waiter’s face, she made quick work of grabbing most of what was on the tray and carrying it over to the desk, until only a few things were left.

“Would you mind bringing the rest to the woman next door? Thank you very much.”

As soon as she had closed the door behind her, she caught Damiano’s gaze, wide smile on his face.

“Whatever it takes to make Vic happy, hm?”

Y/n grinned. “Whatever it takes to get Vic to leave us alone.”

***

Y/n had no idea where she was when she woke up the next morning. It only lasted for a moment though - until it all came crashing down on her, the talk with Damiano, the kisses they'd shared, how they had spent the rest of the evening watching trash tv and stuffing themselves with food, until he had left for his own room, placing one last lingering kiss on her lips. She couldn't contain a smile at the memories. For a minute, she allowed herself to lay in bed, reminiscing about the way his mouth felt on hers and how she was now allowed to do that all the time. But work called, and the usual routine caught up with her. Getting ready for the day, re-checking the busy plan for the day, waking up the band. It was only in front of Damiano's room that she faltered a bit, before shaking it off and entering.

Damiano looked peaceful, fast asleep, the blanket only coming up to his waist. With quiet footsteps, she walked over to the bed, taking the view in for as long as she allowed herself. Her usual wake-up tricks would include pulling back curtains, gently talking, stealing blankets, a little shake if necessary. But the turn of their relationship was now providing her with new possibilities. Leaning down, she blew a bit of air against his cheek, watching as his eyelids fluttered but not quite opened yet. A little kiss followed on his cheek, just barely touching his skin. Then a kiss on his inviting lips. She almost pulled back, when a strong hand held onto the back of her head, Damiano suddenly wide awake and kissing her back.

"I could get used to these wake-up calls."

“Well, be a good boy and get dressed and you might be getting them more often,” she grinned, already halfway out the door. She knew if she didn’t leave now she probably wouldn’t for a while, and they did not have time for any delays.

“That better be a promise!” Damiano shouted after her, and she giggled, all the way back to her room, never having looked forward to a day of work quite this much.

***

The day was one of their most hectic ones yet, jumping between the hotel, the venue for soundcheck, dinner, a radio station, and back to the venue. Yet, for once, Damiano didn’t mind in the slightest. Not with the way he was now allowed to stare at Y/n all the time. No more worries about having to hide it, no more being afraid of being caught in the way his eyes kept lingering on her whenever she was nearby. Never mind the fact that he enjoyed teasing her.

He was well aware of how important her professionalism was for her, and he’d be the last person to slack off work because he was smitten. But, in the little moments in between, the waiting to go on air, the walking along a hallway, the little breaks and breathers, he simply couldn’t help himself. Especially not with the way she kept blushing and scolding him.

It was the small things. Brushing past her when he walked by. Letting his hand rest on her waist a little too long, always threatening to move lower, but never making the jump. Winking at her with the meanest smirk when the radio host asked a particularly spicy question. Texting her with the suggestion to unbutton her blouse just slightly more to keep him motivated. The latter was met with a stern look and her hands buttoning up the blouse a little more instead. Yet, throughout the day Y/n seemed to be more relaxed, while keeping up the impression of ‘everything is normal’. Well, she did the best she could when Damiano wasn’t giving her a hard time.

Victoria seemed to think it was the funniest thing in the world, constantly watching the two of them and snickering to herself. When Damiano told her to mind her own business - just for once - she only became more curious. Ethan and Thomas hadn’t caught on yet. Well, Thomas definitely hadn’t. Ethan had looked at Damiano a little strangely, eyebrows raised in question, when the singer had stared at Y/n a little too long, trying to catch her attention, but he hadn’t mentioned it.

Now it was less than an hour until showtime, everyone gathered backstage, and Damiano couldn’t remember the last time he had been quite this excited to play. London being their biggest gig on this tour certainly played a part, but the butterflies in his stomach every time he laid eyes on Y/n surely did the rest.

The dressing room was a mess, clothes everywhere, stylists and make-up artists scrambling to get their work done in time, which was proven increasingly difficult as Victoria and Thomas kept starting tickle fights. Damiano was sure the crew was ready to murder them at this point. Still waiting for his own turn to get dressed up, he let his gaze wander over to Y/n, who was sitting with Ethan, the drummer patiently painting her nails black.

“There,” he concluded. “You’re becoming more like us every single day.”

Damiano watched as she held up her hands, admiring the way the colour contrasted with her skin. Walking over to her, he let his hands rest on her shoulders as he stood behind her.

“And you’re barely even flinching anymore when one of us gets naked,” he grinned, shooting a glance at Victoria, who was running away from Thomas in a shirt and panties only. He bent down to whisper in her ear. “Unless that one of us is me, I hope.”

The smack on his arm landed harder than expected, Y/n once again a blushing mess, but Damiano couldn’t help but laugh. As long as he still had that kind of hold over her, he’d gladly make use of it.

***

Y/n took her usual seat, sending smiles to the crew and band as they readied up for the show. The crowd outside was deafening already, volume only increasing when the lights were slowly starting to dim. One by one, the band members came up to her, ready to get a last wish of good luck, but Damiano made quick work of shoving them away, giggling as he reached her first. Without a word of warning, he grabbed her head, planting a deft kiss on her lips, before letting go of her with the biggest grin on his face. Her eyes closed as soon as she felt his lips on hers, an involuntary reaction to the feeling of having him close.

“Are all of us gonna get some good-luck kisses like that now?” Victoria giggled from behind them, and Y/n couldn’t help landing yet another smack on Damiano’s arm that day.

“Nope,” he replied. “Singer privileges.”

With the proudest smile on his face he finally bounced on stage. The others quickly followed and Y/n was left in her seat, shaking her head. That man was going to be the death of her, she was sure of it. They hadn’t even gone official, and he was already clouding her mind every single second of the day. She watched him as he ran around on stage, energy higher yet than all of the other shows on that tour, thinking about how he never failed to amaze her, both as a performer and as a human being all in itself. She wasn’t quite sure what the future held for them, what the rest of this tour would bring them, but as she stared at him, she decided she was going to be fine with whatever it was. Despite her anxiety about the future, he would be there. As long as she could have a piece of him, a smile, a touch, a kiss, every now and then, she was going to be fine. Right? Watching him on stage was a blessing and a curse. She was so proud of him, of the band. As much as she loved them there still left a small voice of fear. How much was she willing to let them see? Let him see? The rest of the tour was still there, but she reminded herself of what he had told her the day before in her hotel room. They would figure it out together.

***

Taglist | @damianodavide @lizstans @unitersmoonshine @its-afucking-mess @ethaneskin @dont-let-me-drown-in-you@vampirtet @lividisuigomiti @juststalking @tabi-toast @ethan-torchio-angelo @thewitchinthemountain @ethanesimp @sofckinelectric @daddydamiano @finelinejpm @rainbowmarta @rocketqueen @aleksanderwh0r3 @damianodavidhands @megann-duff @teatrodellavita @coven-daddy @till-you-scream-and-cry @fanfictionandfluff @slave4yourlove @geklutst-ei @bookish0918 @mehrmonga @kanevill @butterfly-skinnylegend @lidiyabest @killerqueen1985 @ccweasley @messyhairday-me @bidet-and-legolas @maybanksslut @katyldamusic @navs-bhat @etaerealboyv @tryymebitch @fenhakwe @solacestyles @softforlukescurls @vicsangel @theimpossiblehologramtree @alina-exe @cherricola66 @onlykissystyless @dannasixxworld

#maneskin fiction #damiano david imagine #damiano david x you #damiano david x reader #damiano david fiction #maneskin imagine #maneskin x you #maneskin x reader #quiet music #bethanysnow #mywriting

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damianodavide · 4 years ago

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Never stopped loving you (pt. II)

Based on this prompt | Part I | Part III (will be added).

Summary: Damiano x reader [undefined gender].

When reader is confronted with their painful feelings about Damiano, they desperately needs to talk about it.

Word count: 1,5K

Consists: some fluff, more angst this time, sadness, pining.

Thanks again to @daviddamiano for proofreading. Inspired by 'Young Heart' by Birdy.

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As you were laying on your back on the towel, the sound of laughter carried over the pool, immediately followed by Ethan’s defensive response. ‘If you say so Edgar,’ replied Damiano, still laughing. Victoria, who had still been sitting on the sunbed staring at her phone, jumped up, eager to join in on teasing Ethan. Normally you would be too, but as cheerful you had felt just moments before, your mood had suddenly changed.

You couldn’t help thinking back to the first time you’d joined the band, when they just started their Il Ballo Della Vita tour. You had finished high school, and had no idea what to study. Even though Vic was younger than you were, you looked up to her for following her dream into music. It was her idea, of course, for you to join them as their photographer. ‘You are creative and you know you should do something with it,’ she had said. You worried about not fitting in, since you had never felt quite confident. After telling Vic this, she just sniggered. ‘Have you seen us,’ she’d said ‘we’re outsiders just like you.’ You knew were an average photographer at best, but eventually Vic convinced you to come.

You turned your head to the side again, seeing all four of them, now standing together in front of the glass doors. From what you could hear they were discussing the rehearsal. Damiano was standing with his back towards you, two glasses of iced coffee in his hands. You turned your eyes away from his lean stature and sighed.

It had been so easy for you to fall for him then. It had seemed like everyone knew immediately that you liked Damiano, including himself. You endured weeks of Victoria and Thomas’ knowing looks, while he always found a way to make you blush. You had often sought refuge with Ethan, since he was the only one who didn’t tease you. Not for a moment you had believed he felt the same way about you, until that first kiss in the dressing room had changed everything.

You closed your eyes shut. How could a memory that once was so intensely happy, now be so painful? Still you remembered vividly every sound, every touch, the way his dark eyes looked up close. His breath on your lips… It felt like a tight band closed around your chest. The worst of it was that you couldn’t possibly be allowed to feel this way, since you were the one who had ended it.

You heard footsteps and sat up. Damiano walked toward you. He handed you the glass and sat down cross-legged. You could only bring yourself to smile weakly at him, as you sipped the drink. Damiano, oblivious, started talking about how he’d made fun of Ethan once again. You watched his face while he talked animatedly, his hands gesturing and imitating Ethan’s voice. His warm, open expression made you feel even worse. ‘It’s always so easy,’ Damiano concluded. ‘Ha, yeah nice,’ you said. Damiano’s face fell slightly. ‘Are you all right?’ he asked. ‘Yes, of course. I’m fine, just – tired.’ You didn’t sound convincing.

‘Did I hear you’re going to rehearse in a minute?’ you tried. ‘Yes,’ Damiano answered. ‘But I’ve convinced them to give us a minute to finish our coffee.’ He smiled at you. Suddenly looking a bit unsure, he asked: ‘Will you join us? To take some pictures? I bet we’ll look amazing.’ You smiled at the sarcastic note in his voice, looking down at your glass. ‘No, sorry not this time,’ you replied. You needed some time alone to collect yourself. ‘I promised my grandma to call her back, we were supposed to call this morning.’

This was true and you were happy for the excuse. You had totally forgotten that morning when she had called, just when you were about to leave for the tattoo parlour with Damiano. ‘Of course,’ Damiano said, ‘I can’t keep hogging your attention.’ His face was unreadable. ‘No, that’s not what I meant – .’ You could slap yourself.

Before you could say anything else, Thomas appeared next to you. ‘So finally finished?’ he asked. ‘If we still want to rehearse before dinner, I think we should go inside now.’ Ethan had followed Thomas, now standing next to him silently. ‘Will you come too?’ Thomas asked, looking at you. ‘Ah – no, I’m going to call nonna’ you repeated. Thomas laughed. ‘Probably a good thing, we’ve looked better.’ He turned pointedly to Damiano, a smug look on his face. ‘Yes, lets go’ Damiano said, ignoring Thomas’ joke. As you got up to follow them, it seemed like Damiano avoided your gaze.

Once in your room, you were glad you could call your grandma, because you wouldn’t have to say much. As predicted, she kept rattling on. You only had to say the periodical ‘hmm’ and ‘yes’ to keep her going. The antics of her boring neighbours were now a useful distraction. After a while she finally asked how you had been. ‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ you answered. ‘And how was the tour, was it nice? Did they behave themselves? Their clothes were quite scarce weren’t they? Even Victoria’s, I’m not sure…’ ‘Yeah it was nice nonna,’ you interrupted. Their clothing was a favourite subject of hers. ‘We had lots of fun,’ you added, ‘they were really popular.’ ‘Oh that is lovely,’ she said.

When she hung up half an hour later, you wished you could’ve called longer. The anxious feeling had instantly returned. How you wished to talk to him now, say how you really felt, but you couldn’t. You would just hurt him again. Painfully you remembered how heartbroken he had been. You didn’t fit into his life, that hadn’t changed since you’d broken up. There was a knock on the door. Your stomach lurched. It wasn’t Vic, she wouldn’t have knocked. Could it…?

‘Can I come in?’ It was Ethan. ‘Y-yes of course,’ you exhaled. He opened the door. His hair was in a messy bun on top of his head. ‘Have you already finished?’ you asked. You had expected them to go on longer. ‘Yes,’ he said, hesitating in the doorway, ‘Can I ask you something?’ ‘Uh, sure?’ Puzzled you gestured to Vic’s bed and sat down on your own. For a moment you both sat there, until he finally said: ‘Something’s going on with you and Damiano.’ It wasn’t a question. You stared at him, had you been that obvious?

‘What makes you say that?’ you finally asked. Ethan frowned. ‘I don’t know, I had this feeling, ever since we started the tour. Then at the pool, there was something about the way you looked at him. Damiano wasn’t himself during the rehearsal either…’ His voice trailed off. You often forgot how perceptive he could be. You now realised yourself there had been a turning point when you came back to join the tour. Would Damiano have noticed this? ‘So?’ Ethan asked. ‘To be honest Ethan, I have no idea anymore,’ you said softly. He just looked at you, waiting for you to continue.

You hadn’t spoken to anyone about your feelings for Damiano, but now, in Ethan’s quiet presence, it spilled out. ‘I don’t know what to do,’ you said in a small voice. ‘I hoped our time apart would’ve made my feelings for him die down, but of course they haven’t. I know it’s unfair to him, I do.’ You looked at your hands lying in your lap.

Victoria had told you, hesitantly, how devastated Damiano had been. That it had taken months before he wanted to talk about it with her. ‘I think you should talk to him,’ Ethan said. You stared at him for a second, unable to speak.

‘How could I? How could I tell him now that I still – still love him? After I chose to – .’ As you looked at Ethan you suddenly had the feeling you had to defend yourself. ‘We clearly had different lives to lead! We always had to hide our love, for the paparazzi, the fans, everyone… And we kept having fights about these stupid things. I just – I couldn’t do it.’ You took a ragged breath and looked away.

‘It’s okay,’ Ethan said, softly. After a moment, he went on saying: ‘I still think you should talk to him.’ You opened your mouth, and Ethan went on quickly. ‘Okay, maybe not about that you still love him, but have you ever told him how you felt then? Why you left?’ You shook your head. ‘No, not really.’

In fact you hadn’t been able to say more than what you had rehearsed in your head without bursting into tears. You had tried to say that it wasn’t the right time for them, and that maybe they would find each other again when it was. Damiano had interrupted you, tears in his eyes, asking: ‘If I’m not enough for you now, why would I ever be?’ It still felt like a punch in the gut. You looked at your lap again, blinking. ‘Hey, shhh,’ Ethan said, patting your knee with his hand. It took you a moment to collect yourself. ‘I’m okay,’ you said finally, smiling weakly at Ethan. ‘I don’t know, maybe you’re right… ’

At that moment Victoria barged in. ‘[y/n], tell me that you want to order sushi too, the guys don’t – oh.’ Victoria looked from one to the other, mouth open. Before she could say something you cleared your throat and said: ‘Yeah, I’d love sushi.’ ‘Me too,’ Ethan added. The three of you you stared at each other, before Ethan stood up awkwardly. ‘Talk,’ he told you with a nod, and quickly walked past Victoria. ‘What was that about?’ she asked. You just shook your head apologetically. You wouldn’t be able to explain.

taglist: @rocketqueen , @tabi-toast , @butterfly-skinnylegend , @glittermalia, @queen-of-brokenhearts, @maneskinmademedoit, @oro-e-diamanti, @risingtripletaurus, @ohhoneyx, @anangelwhodidntfall, @tiaamberxx (let me know if you want to be added for part III).

#måneskin #damiano david #måneskin imagine #damiano david x reader #damiano david angst #damiano x reader #victoria de angelis #ethan torchio #thomas raggi #bonus points if you listen to young heart and are able to guess the references I've put in here #basically she wrote this fic for me #I could never have been so articulate #as if anyone will read this ha #I'm a bit afraid it will flop now my dash is good as dead

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extremelyblackandwhite · 3 years ago

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scrubs - 7.

PAIRING: doctor!sebastian stan x biomedical scientist!reader

WARNINGS: fluff

A/N: have fun everybody xx

< previous chapter

She was stubborn. She’d always been stubborn from the moment he’d first seen her a few years ago and while he knew so many staff over his very long period at the hospital which had seen him do his own residency, he could not forget the first time he saw her. The first thought that popped into his mind was how cute she was in a clearly oversized lab coat as she followed her supervisor around carrying some stock. He’d offered to help her out yet she merely looked him up and down with a sarcastic smile before telling him she didn’t need his help. The exact same sarcastic smile she was wearing right now.

Time had barely weighed on her, after all, it hadn’t been that long ago and while her hair had changed, her defiance had remained. There weren’t a lot of people who defied doctors or even nurses, they had this sort of mystical tsar like dominance inside hospital walls yet not only she defied him, but she also had almost always the upper hand.

- Why would I do that? - she cocked her head to the side, eyebrow raised up as she taunted him.

- Because ... - he stood close to him, way too close for her to feel his breathe on her face. His finger traced the side of her jaw, slowly and with torturous intent before he leaned down to her ear. - You really get keyed up when I’m not inside you, doll.

Y/N’s cheeks heated up but she remained her composure, studying her opononent as if this was a chess match. Her eyes looked up at him, a small smile on her lips before she leaned in to kiss him. He melted into her kiss, pressing her against the wall as it became more intimate and lustful, yet it wasn’t messy. She was merely pressed against that wall, his lips molding with hers as his hands rested on her waist. Her hands rubbed up and down his chest, one of them resting upon the hard on visible from his scrubs. She squeezed his through his scrubs as her kisses leaned down from his lips to his jaw and neck, leaving enough lipstick marks to have people wonder.

- I guess I’m gonna be keyed up ... - she stopped the kiss before slipping from under him, her hand resting on the knob. - Knock yourself off, Dr. Stan.

Sebastian remained speechless as he watched her leave. Oh, oh she was wanting to be chased? He smirked to himself, grabbing his jacket before looking down at his erection. That was going to be a fun lunch break, he thought to himself. He allowed her to remain in his mind through his whole shift yet not on the way it usually remained. He wasn’t annoyed at her, it was something else. Maybe he did have an idea of what to do.

She on the other hand was busy dealing with her ever rushing thoughts about the doctor. She had a bright smile on her face every once in a while every time she thought about what she’d done. Sure, she knew she’d probably deal with the consequences of it the next time they spoke or when HR found out she kissed him in the middle of the reception hall but that was a future problem. She continued with that little smile even as she grabbed her bag, walking down the stairs down to her car, only to find the same man on her mind sat on the boot.

- Dr. Stan, you do realise you have to enter the car to actually drive it, correct?

- You are the most difficult woman I’ve ever met.

- I didn’t realise we were still fighting over the obvious. - she fished her purse for her keys.

- Let’s go on a date. - he jumped off the car. - Hopefully, you’ll end up in my bed as well.

- A date? Doctor Stan, the only thing I want to do is get takeaway from the little Italian restaurant next to my house and watch Netflix.

- Come on, doll. You gave me blue balls the whole day, least thing you can do is have a bite with me.

She poundered over the question for a little bit. Surely she wouldn’t want this going around the hospital or she would lose the little credibility she had in those halls yet, at the same time, she did enjoy her time with him no matter how much he attempted to get on her last nerve. She lowered her shoulder, letting out a sigh before holding up her keys in her fingers.

- You’re driving.

- I can’t drive such a tiny car. - he pointed at her baby blue Fiat 500, the very first car she’d ever bought and the only car she’ll ever have for all she cared.

- They say men with big cars are compensating for something. Got anything to hide, Dr. Stan? - she smirked as she opened her passenger door.

- You would know, wouldn’t you doll? - he caught the keys from her, pushing the driver’s seat back before closing the door. - Damn, this is a tiny car.

- You’re a tiny car.

- Is that all you have? I expected a better come back from you.

- Like you expected me to make you cum earlier?

He smiled to himself as he started the car. Sebastian honestly couldn’t remember the last time he’d driven with someone by his side, much less a woman whom he wasn’t related to. Her car had such an aura to it, the aura of who she was outside of work. He’d never stopped to wonder who she was off work, what she liked, what she disliked; however, her playlist gave a quick peak into a bit of her tastes, a mix between musical theatre, sad pop music, c;assic music and Britney Spears. It made her rounded, more than the woman she was at the laboratory, more than the supervisor Y/N he was so used to have petty fights with. Everything in the car just yelled out who she was, from the little vanilla scent dangling off the mirror, the lipgloss on the side, a few books in the backseat and the car itself. He thought his car was so dull compared to hers, always so unlived in.

- Are we going to sit in silence or ... ? - she leaned against the head rest.

- Oh no, doll. I like not talking to you, you normally end up kissing me out of the blue. I could get used to that.

- That happened because you were a dick to me.

- That happened because you were jealous. Admit it, you like me.

She remained silent, looking at him through the corner of her eye with a childish smile. He drove past her favourite Italian, getting her reserved order before deciding to take them to his apartment. Sebastian was sure she wouldn’t want him in her flat, no one had really been there. She was a quiet person outside of her job, no one really knew what she exactly did or what she liked. He wondered what type of person she was outside of work but he could only imagine she had that same spark. That little thing which just made her the person he knew.She was always too big for that little hospital.

- You passed my street.

- I know. We’re going to my place. I know you’re a private person.

- Oh ... - she bite the inside of her lip, looking out the window. - That’s awfully thoughtful of you.

- Everything ok? - he asked but she merely nodded, leaning on her own hand yet the answer didn’t satisfy him. - You can talk to me, you know? I’m not all bad.

- I didn’t know you were a psychologist.

- Do you even have anyone to talk to? - he questioned, more in a joking manner than in a serious manner yet her face dropped. Her eyes darting to look out the window as she forced laughter. - C’mon people talk on dates.

- I have my parents but they’re not in the country. - she answered, pulling at the edge of her cuffs. - It’s only glamorous to work in a hospital if you’re a white male doctor.

- Something happened?

- Not important. - she changed the topic. - Pay attention to the road before you wreck my car.

Sebastian wanted to ask her, he really did, yet he doubtted she would open up to him. Maybe for good reason, after all, their relationship had been, somewhat, strictly professional for years. Nevertheless, it still tugged at the back of his mind even as he parked. Sebastian existed the car, carrying whatever it was she had ordered before opening the door for her.

Maybe it was the fact she had been extremely drunk the last time or that she was much more focused on getting him to fuck her but the view from his penthouse flat was something breath taking. She took small steps towards the balcony, holding out the rail as she looked up the city from the top. Everything looked so small, like her own personal sky full of stars. She could just look at it for hours and forget everything.

- Do you wanna eat out the packaging or do you want me to plate it? - he spoke to her from the kitchen. - Y/N?

- Whatever’s better for you. - she looked out her shoulder before returning to look at the city. Sebastian dropped the plates onto the marble countertops, abandoning his task to go and join her. She looked at him from the corner of her eye, as if questioning what he was doing by her side.

- What’s bothering you?

- Nothing’s bothering me.

- You haven’t bullied me yet. You’re either really trying to get into my pants which is not hard at all, really just need to ask or you’re upset. Either way, I wanna help.

- You wouldn’t understand. - she leaned her arms on the railing.

- I don’t need to understand, I just wanna be there for you.

- So you wanna be my therapist? - she dryly chuckled. - I’ve just been hating my job.

- Everyone hates their job.

- I was the first in the family to go to university, the smart kid. I always did my best, gave up on a regular growing up because I needed to be the best to merely get the opportunities other people had. I worked hard, graduated top of my class and when I got this job I was so happy. - she shakily sighed. - But now I just hate it. I do everything I can, I do the best and beyond, edit company SOPs and training forms and I’m still treated like scum. I just thought that with a degree I would do what I like but instead I’m stuck in that job, unable to do what I like because it doesn’t pay the bills. I interview all the time and it’s always a no. I’m just unhappy, alone and lonely.

- You’re not alone. You have that friend ... what’s her name?

- Miriam? Try being friends with someone who’s recently engaged.

- I’m sorry. - he scratched the back of his neck. - I didn’t know you felt that way, Y/N. That’s awful.

- Thanks, Dr. Stan. I appreciate it. - she saluted him sarcastically.

- You need to let people in.

- I’ve already let you in.

- Not like that. - he chuckled. - You’re always so uptight. Don’t get me wrong, I love it but other people don’t.

- I don’t really care if people like me. I’m used to it.

- Thank god I like you then. - he kissed her shoulder. - And not just when you’re naked and under me. I like talking to you, baby doll. You should quit that job.

- And you’d pay for my tiny flat?

- No. You’d move here and walk around naked with your glasses talking to me about how dumb I am about microbiology.

- Is that what turns you on?

- You’ll be ok. I promise you. - he pulled her close to him. - Besides, if anyone ever treats you like scum, you let me know and I will make their life very hard. I can be a nuissance.

- I know. - she leaned her head against his shoulder. - It’s a date now.

taglist: @rebekahdawkins

#Sebastian Stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan au #doctor!sebastian stan

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tteokdoroki · 4 years ago

Note

hello! if you’re still doing these could i please request 7 with Bakugou?

if you’re not taking them pls delete !! 💕

katsuki bakugou x gn!reader.

tteokdoroki teaparty event masterpost!!

♡ prompt #7 — reader has a secret admirer, character of choice doesn’t know how to confess.

♡ genre: everyone, fluff + slight angst.

♡ word count: 1.8K

♡ warnings: cursiing!

♡ author’s notes: thank you for requestiing my lovely !!

yet again, warmth spreads underneath your skin and across your chest at the sight of the chocolates displayed cutely across your desk. for the last week or so, you’d received a flurry of gifts from an unknown admirer— each attached to a sweet note, written with such deep feelings that every time you read one your heart thumped loudly in your chest.

“let me guess, another one?” mina swoons from your right, joining you in the empty classroom for the day ahead. pink hair tickles at the junction between your head and your shoulder as she reaches for the box of sweets in your grip— you don’t bother putting up a fight, knowing she’d take it from you anyway. “that’s like the third time this week, yn.”

bowing your head shyly, you run your fingers over the small note that lays unfolded on your desk. ‘for you, i’d do anything.’ it reads and you wonder for the umpteenth time; you out of all of classmates is capable of writing such a thing. “i know, i really wish i knew who’s sending them— no ones ever quite done something like this for me before.” you voice is quiet and hopeful, a contrast to the bustling energetic babbles that come from your third year classmates as they filter in for the day ahead. you scan them all to look for a possible source, knowing that your heart could belong to anyone of them.

“it’s gotta be deku!” kaminari cuts through your train of thought like a knife through butter— throwing his arm around your shoulders as he plucks the box of chocolates from mina’s grip, much to her annoyance. “he’s like the sweetest dude in the class, there’s no way it could be anyone else. we’re not capable of cute shit like that.” you roll your eyes and allow your friend to tear open the box for a morning treat but let your gaze slip over to where izuku chats animatedly with ochako. not him.

jirou is next to speak, ripping the box from the blonde to take it to her desk beside yours. kaminari whines as the girl divides up the sweet snacks for, taking one for both herself and mina. chaos is ensuing and yet again, your friends are the centre of it. “nah, my bet’s on sato...how else would yn be getting so many sweet treats every day?”

the group falls silent, mulling over the choice as you finally take a seat and swipe one of the chocolates for yourself. popping it into your mouth, you huff in frustration.

“doesn’t make sense, everything gifted to me so far has been insanely exclusive or expensive...some are even my favourites from abroad and— i don’t speak to sato enough for him to know them...“ you admit, pawing your cheeks with embarrassment.

“maybe it’s kirishima then! you guys are always together and he kinda seems like the romantic type..?” your pink haired friend suggests and the more you think about it, the more it makes sense. it was true, you were both always together— even if it was in the presence of others like bakugou and kaminari— and had more than enough in common, from music tastes to gaming. you could see the hardening hero as someone you’d go for as well, eijirou was an obvious choice. “what do you think, bakugou?”

you peek up from the note ( neatly folded ) and box of chocolates ( now returned ) that sit on your desk, catching the arrival of your final three friends. bakugou, sero and kirishima himself. you feel body flush with warmth as you catch the latter’s ruby eyed gaze and give him a small wave accompanied by a smile; that kirishima quickly returns.

the blonde however, tsks at mina’s question before making his way to his seat. you considered yourself and katsuki to be good friends; it was usually quiet whenever you too were around one another which was a nice change of pace from his usual rowdy personality— but the majority of your time with each other was spent with him teasing you for your quirk.

“‘m callin’ bullshit. whoever this is should hurry up and face how they feel. the candy shit is stupid.” bakugou growls out, throwing his backpack onto the desk; ready to begin class. in all three years of knowing him, he’d never showed any signs of romantic interest towards anyone in your class, especially you. meaning that your admirer, definitely bakugou.

you turn away from him and your group of friends to face the board, ignoring how they scold him for his harsh words. “right, stupid...” you sigh quietly, just as aizawa enters the room.

ever since your brief conversation with the explosive boy himself, bakugou had been increasingly rude to you throughout the day and it was starting to get on your last nerves. at first, it had been subtle— bumping you in the corridors between classes, pretending he didn’t have an extra pen for you when you knew that he carried spares for your friends who often forgot and then he’d straight up ignored your invitation to study during lunch like you usually did.

you figured that the blonde was having a bad day, bakugou was never usually this harsh to you and you could talk it out with him later. this behaviour was something you hadn’t seen from your friend since first year, and you almost believed that something else had been bothering him— until he almost blew you high into the sky during hero training that afternoon. of course you called him out on it, yelling at him in front of the entire class as your frustrations finally bubbled over but bakugou remained straight faced— leading to your current predicament.

aizawa thought it was best for the two of you to work things out over cleaning duties after school— something you thought you’d been well past seeing as you were third years now. mature, grown up third years who knew how to talk about their problems. apparently, katsuki bakugou was not one of them. even while you rearranged chairs and swept under desks, he still managed to crawl under your skin with petty remarks and hums of disapproval.

it’s only when you realised that katsuki had been actively trying to avoid your gaze or rather, your entire presence— that you snapped, dropping the broom you held in your hands and letting it clatter to the floor beside him, ultimately grabbing his attention.

“are you fucking insane—?”

“what the hell is your problem, bakugou?” you slice right through his words, a quiet rage flooding your bloodstream as you glare down at him. the boy himself looks dumbfounded, having never heard you talk to him in such away, before and stops shelving the books he had been holding. “did i do something to you?”

“like I’d let you do anythin’ to piss me off.”

god, he infuriates you. you step closer to the blonde, who stands at least half a head taller than you and shove at his chest as best you can— needing an outlet for your frustrations. “then why have you been acting like an asshole all day? first you blow me off and then you quite literally blow me up, and now? you’re avoiding me?” your fists curl in his untucked shirt, tugging at it as all of your emotions spill out into the space between you. “i don’t know what i did, but it doesn’t mean you get to treat your friend like shit, katsuki. you’ve been so mean to me today!”

bakugou looks away, avoiding your eyes that cloud with a sadness he can’t bare to face. you tell yourself not to cry, hating the way your bottom lip wobbles at his change in attitude. “’m mean to everyone, there’s nothin’ special about you.” he excuses himself, trying to step away from you.

“but not to me, you know that,” your voice shakes, everything you’d held back finally slipping through opened cracks. why was he treating you this way? what had you done to deserve this? you glance up, trying to find his vermillion eyes and the answers that may lie behind them. “you’ve been acting so...so off, since this morning, when mina asked about my admirer. you called it stupid. is it so hard to believe that someone, that kirishima might even like me?” the grip you had on bakugou’s shirt loosens but you remain leaning against him, neither of you daring to breathe. “why should i even care what you think? you’ve never been one for romance...u-unless you count the manga that you read but i don’t know how that would...”

and then your babbling stops, realisation washing over you in heavy waves. bakugou appears visibly tense before you, fist clenching and unclenching by his aides as you process your own train of thought. he hadn’t been mean to you for the sake of it, he had been because he didn’t know how else to express his feelings of jealously. it wasn’t kirishima that had been sending you notes, no— it had been bakugou all along. “how that would relate to me...” you think out loud, feeling him flinch beneath your grip. “k-katsuki...do you have a crush on me?”

“...don’t...” the blonde warns, heat rushing to his cheeks at your very accusation. a smile comes rushing to your cheeks, the familiar warmth finding its way back into your chest. “don’t look at me like that, fucker. i-i’m not good at this emotion shit, you know that and this was easier than talking— yn, stop fucking lookin’ at me like that.”

the almost whine that slips from between katsuki’s lips makes your tummy fill with affectionate butterflies, causing you to finally let go of his poor shirt and throw your arms around him in a tight hug. bakugou hesitates for a moment, trying to decode the situation and decide for himself if this was real— but you decide to do the talking and tell him foot yourself. “can’t help it, not when i feel the same way about you, katsuki.” you knew that no matter who was behind your little gifts and love notes, your heart would belong to your admirer and your admirer alone. with a rush of adrenaline after feeling katsuki return your embrace, you lean up to press a soft lingering kiss to his chapped lips.

he tastes like honey and smoke, feels warm like a soft summer breeze but as your lips love together and speak a thousand unspoken confessions, the pair of you realise that you never want the moment to end. “i meant what i said in that last note,” bakugou hums softly, pressing his forehead to yours and holding you close as if you’re going to disappear or suddenly realise your feelings for him aren’t true. “i’d do anything for you...”

“anything?” for the second time that day, you swoon at the blonde’s words and peck his nose gently.

he nods once, lost in thought before speaking again. “except for buy you those fucking chocolates again. they’re fucking expensive, cost a shitload.”

you snort at that, leaning up to lock lips him again— who needed chocolate when you could kiss katsuki bakugou instead.

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thedeathdeelers · 3 years ago

Text

Racing Hearts

[a companion piece to this gorgeous piece of Luke art brought to you by the ever talented @mamirugbee]

It‘s a warm and quiet night as Julie lies comfortably on a sleeping Luke, the sound of his strong heartbeat thudding steadily against her ear.

Her finger lazily traces patterns on his chest as her eyes roam the dark room, taking in the familiar surroundings of yet another hotel room. Julie had come to learn that no matter what country they were in, the hotel rooms were always the same.

Her eyes brush over his discarded navy and black suit along with his black band tee draped over the sofa across the room, landing on the shiny helmet propped on top of the coffee table, the gloss glittering with the light of the moon shining through the slanted shutters of the window. Her gaze lingers on the various logos littered across the top of it, each one of them so familiar to her now. As her eyes take in the shape of the Sunset Curve Racing logo, her heart warms once more at the memory of Luke pulling it off earlier that day, as he swiped his sweaty hair away from his face, listening intently to the scores. She also distinctly remembers the brightness of his smile that had been visible from miles away as his name echoed through the circuit, the announcers praising him as the youngest driver to ever win the Mexican Grand Prix.

Her eyes flick away from the helmet to rest on the trophy standing tall on the centre of the dining table tucked away in the corner of their room, the silver glint of it guiding her gaze down towards the name engraved on the plaque at its base.

She had watched him from the base of the podium as his competitors sprayed him with champagne, his smile not waning for a second as his hat, his favourite Screams from the Attic band tee and his suit tied at his waist got drenched. The multicoloured flags behind him had flapped in the wind as he turned his gaze, searching for her in the gathering crowd. She had backed away the second his eyes landed on her, the growing mischievous smile on his face a warning sign as he started towards her, the sticky nature of dried champagne pushing her to move even further away from his approaching hands.

She had lost of course, a smile now making its way on her lips as she remembers his arms snaking their way around her waist from the back, lifting her up until her feet were helplessly kicking the air in front of her, her squeals louder than the cheering crowd.

Julie pulls her attention away from the day’s events and back to the quiet room she finds herself in, her eyes coming back to trace the features of the sleeping driver beneath her.

Her heart grows tenfold as she takes in the peaceful almost boyish look on his face, sleep taking away any edge it might carry during the day. Without her permission, her fingers skim the lines of his chest, dipping past his collarbone and up his neck as they settle at the base of his jawline.

She thanks whatever greater power brought him safely back to her after yet another successful race.

Because truth be told, even though she had gotten better at controlling the anxiety that riddled her whenever he walked away from her and towards his car, Julie still worried about him and struggled to sit still while she watched him race to the finish line.

Just like she was now, she often found herself wondering how Luke kept his pre-race nerves at bay as he got ready to risk his life again and again for his job - his passion. She admired for him, even if it scared the living daylights out of her.

She always watched him as he got ready while the team, including Alex and Reggie, prepped him before he slid into his seat behind the wheel, glimpsing a look of peace settling on his features as he closed his eyes for a few seconds, shutting out the flurry of activity happening around him.

Julie had always assumed it was due to the music pulsing through his headphones, the loud beating of the drums and heavy guitar riffs blocking out the world for just those few seconds. It was a ritual she’d seen time and time again, even before he knew she existed - but during his last few races, she’d been seeing less and less of that. The headphones themselves would be left dangling in her hands as he walked away - no music in his ears, his eyes never leaving hers.

Maybe whatever brought on that peaceful expression to his face could help her, too.

Her fingers move upwards once more, her thumb gently swiping against his cheek and grazing the day old stubble. Her index finger glides down the length of his nose, her hand hovering just above his mouth when she feels lips pressing into her palm.

A giggle slips out of her before she can stop herself.

“Did I wake you?”

Her whispered question is met with a soft grunt, followed by a hand tightening its hold on her hip.

“Yes. No. Maybe?” His sleepy answer brings out more laughter to bubble out, her hand retracting itself from his face to slap across her mouth.

“I’m sorry,” comes her muffled apology.

“No you’re not.”

A beat of silence follows before she slips her hand off her face and settles it back on his chest.

“No I’m not.”

He grins at her reply, his eyes still closed.

“How come you’re up?” His brow furrows before he cracks an eye open to peek at her. “Wait — what time is it?”

Julie shrugs, answering both of his questions in one swift motion.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

“No, I’m fine I just...” She tries to think of a reason, but all she can think about is that peaceful look on his face before a race, and she suddenly finds herself itching to ask him.

“I- I was just thinking about today, and your races in general and I...” she trails off, not entirely sure how to phrase this.

She feels the hand on her hip give her one quick squeeze, and realises her eyes had drifted away from his gaze.

She looks back up at him to find him looking at her with both eyes open, a curious and slightly concerned, gleam to them.

Right. This was Luke — she could do this.

“It’s just that I know the anxiety that comes along with having a loved one getting into a race car will never fade, especially not after...” she trails off, taking in a deep breath before continuing. “But I- I always see you do this thing before you race. Like suddenly all of the anxiety that was there just kind of...melts away?” Julie registers her words and hurries to explain herself. “I don’t mean you’re not anxious anymore! Or that you’re completely relaxed or— I don’t know how to explain this. It’s like you’re just suddenly okay? Ugh, I’m sorry I don’t know what I’m saying.” She drags her hand towards her face as she hides behind it, hoping she can blame her lack of sleep on whatever the hell that was.

Anxiety about maybe dying just casually melting away?? Where did that come from?

The silence that follows only causes her to worry even more, until she feels a hand rest against hers, only to then gently pull it away from her face.

He holds onto it as she looks up at him again, his thumbs softly tracing her knuckles.

“I know what you mean, Jules.” He tilts one side of his mouth up into a half smile before he continues. “I’ve always had this habit of losing myself to music right before the race starts — ever since I was a kid music just kind of...I don’t know, had this calming effect on me? Or no, wait.” She watches him as he screws his mouth up, his eyes looking up towards the ceiling as he tries to come up with the right words. “Okay so maybe not calm exactly, but music has always been able to help me sort out how I feel, right? And just like it can help me understand how angry or sad or happy I am, I find that if I choose the right song, the right melody or just the right guitar riff, I can almost will myself to just — feel the way I want to feel? If that makes sense?”

His eyes come back down in search of hers as he struggles to explain himself, but just like she always does, Julie knows exactly what he means.

“Yeah, it does. Music is magic like that,” she tells him, a little smile sneaking its way onto her lips.

“Exactly!” The hand holding hers squeezes once before his thumb goes back to its soothing motion. He grins down at her, a smile just as bright as the one she saw on the podium earlier today, except this one was just for her to see.

Her gaze shifts down to his nose, her next question on the tip on her tongue struggling to make its way out. Was this maybe a little too personal? They’ve been together for a few months now but there were times where it still felt so new — she’d get shy or flustered like a school girl, getting tongue tied just at the sight of his brilliant smile. She had a feeling it would always be that way with Luke.

She hoped it would be.

“Jules?”

His voice interrupts her thoughts, bringing her back to the conversation as her eyes reflexively find their way back up to his.

Before she can overthink it, the words spill out of her.

”I um- It’s just that I noticed in the last few races you’ve stopped doing that — listening to music right up until the race starts, I mean. And yet even then you still get that look on your face so I just....wanted to know why - or how - I guess.”

His expression grows soft at her words, his eyes roaming her face once, twice, three times.

“Hmm, something more magical than music came into my life.”

She waits for him to continue, to elaborate and make sense. Instead he just stares at her, as if his vague statement was all the answer she needed.

“Um..what?”

He laughs quietly at her confusion, the vibrations of his laughter reaching the ear still pressed against his chest.

Not known to be patient, Julie jokingly scowls at him, attempting to look unimpressed as he laughs at her.

“What?” She doesn’t mean to, but a slight whine slips into her tone, followed by a pout settling on her lips. This only makes him laugh even harder, her head shaking with the movement of his chest.

“Nothing, nothing.” He chuckles some more while she half-heartedly glares at him, before continuing. “I thought I was being obvious but I guess Alex was right.”

“Alex? What about Alex?”

He shakes his head at her. “Nah, never mind. He just likes to tell me how wrong I am sometimes, that’s all.”

A snort makes its way out of her before she can stop herself. “When doesn’t he...”

He chuckles once more at her words, before quieting down as his eyes flicker down to her lips.

“Luke?”

His eyes tick back up at her questioningly, a smile curling her lips at his short attention span.

Or maybe he just got distracted by her? Huh.

“You were saying about something else taking over music...?”

“Oh! Oh right, yeah sorry. Uh, I mean it hasn’t taken over music exactly — it’s more like I’ve found something else that just kind of,” he lets go of her hand as he reaches over to trace a finger down her cheek. “Better embodies the magic of music for me? Kind of like the living embodiment of it, you could say.”

Her heart starts beating a little faster at his words even as her brain struggles to comprehend his words. Was he-

“Do you get what I’m trying to say, Julie?”

Unable to speak, Julie slowly shakes her head.

The hand on her face cradles her cheek, his fingers weaving their way into her hair.

“You, Jules. You calm my nerves before a race better than any song I’ve ever added to my playlist. I-” A chuckle escapes him before he continues, “Just the thought of you brings me this sense of peace, and it just kind of settles in, pushing away at any jitters that try to shake me before a race. I don’t know how to explain it, even if it’s pretty simple to me.” He stops to stare into her eyes for a second, Julie fully unable to articulate any word or thought.

“I just close my eyes for a few seconds, and picture you. Your voice, your eyes, your smile. I picture you running towards me after a race like you did that first time, and suddenly I’m just excited to race and get to the other side so I can hold you again.”

She feels his thumb gently swipe across her cheek; up and down, up and down.

“I guess what I’m trying to say — what I thought was obvious but maybe Alex was right — is that you’re the reason I’ve been getting better in all my races, the reason I even won today. You make me a better driver, make me want to be a better person.” He tries to draw her closer, his head tilting down towards hers, lifting it off his pillow as he whispers against the crown of her head,

“I love you Jules.”

Still taken by the confession that has left her a little dizzy, Julie pulls herself closer to Luke, wrapping her arms around him as she tightens her hold on him, her face snuggling into his chest. They had already said those three words to each other numerous times before, neither one of them shy about letting the other know the true depth of their feelings.

But somehow, this felt different.

“I love you,” she mouths into the space right above his heart, pressing a kiss into his skin. She feels his fingers twitch in her hair, letting her know that he heard her, felt her, too.

Silence settles in the dark room, neither one of them moving, too happy and comfortable to ruin the moment. They both eventually fall asleep in each other’s arms, ready to conquer whatever the world threw their way - one race at a time.

fin

#jatp #juke #julie and the phantoms #otp: you’re music to me #luke patterson #julie molina #my fics #thedeathdeelers fics #jatp fics #luke day #juke day

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bored-mumma · 4 years ago

Text

Text Message Part Two - Chris Evans x Reader

MASTERLIST

PART ONE

TITLE: Text message CHAPTER NO/ONE SHOT: Chapter 2 WORD COUNT: 2104 (I got carried away) ORIGINAL IMAGINE: This by @theartofimagining13 NOTES/WARNINGS: Swearing. Arguments. Gaslighting and toxic behavior. This is the final chapter for sure. Also I wrote this so quickly it just kind of flowered I bloody loved it. Maybe some proof-reading errors.

Small patches of light crept in through your window, barely being blocked by the blinds. Birds sang their songs from outside, trees swayed gently in the breeze. Everything indicted a calm, warm morning. Except that was far from how things were for you.

Last night, you told your boyfriend, Chris, to not bother coming home if he's going to continue to accuse you and ask to check through your phone. And he didn’t come home. You stayed awake for a long time after getting home. By the time you calmed down, had a bubble bath and watched some TV, it was three in the morning and still no sign of Chris. With a sad sigh, you turned off the telly, rolled over and attempted some sleep.

Now it was nearly nine in the morning. You awoke with groggy eyes, feeling extremely deflated and your cheeks dry from the tears you shed last night. You weren't used to waking up in a cold bed alone. Usually, Chris would awake first. He would roll over, wrap his arms around your waist and gently wake you with his warmth and kisses to your cheek. It was a wake-up call you always adored, no matter what time it would be. But today just felt cold and lonely.

Sitting up, you reached to grab your phone from your bedside table, your stomach turning as you remember more of the argument from the night before. Half of you hoped you would see some messages from Chris, maybe some missed calls. Something to tell you he was sorry and saw the error of his ways. But as you scrolled through all your notifications, you realised there was nothing from him. You debated whether or not to be the bigger person, to text him first and apologise but your stubborn side came out to play before you could - you technically didn't have anything to apologise for! He was the overly jealous one. He was the one who ruined nearly every date you had with his accusations. He was the one who wanted to breach your privacy. You were nothing less than a faithful girlfriend who fell in love with a man with a lot of emotional baggage.

That morning dragged like crazy. You took a shower to try and clear your mind, even ordered in your favourite breakfast from the diner down the street. But your mind always wandered back to Chris. You realised you weren't even sure where he stayed! Was he safe? Just as panic was starting to flow through you, your phone pinged.

Can we talk?

Chris had text you first. Part of you was so happy he did. Maybe that meant he realised he was the one in the wrong and therefore he was the one who had to make the first move to make it right! The other part of you hated the vague words of the message. Can we talk? Does that mean Chris wants to make things better or... No, no it must mean he wants to make everything better. You two were an amazing couple, fully infatuated with each other. It just Chris' insecurity got in the way sometimes. You felt for him and the heartbreak he must have felt when he discovered his ex-fiancée was having an affair with his best friend and you understood how that would affect his ability to trust. But this was getting too much for you to handle. He was right. You guys needed to have a nice long, good talk.

You text him back asking what time he could come home and he replied saying he can be there in twenty minutes. You pottered around as you waited. Made some tea for you both, quickly did some tidying, basically did what you could to try and not overthink what you will say to Chris. However, before you knew it, you heard a key in the door and Chris stepping inside. You walked over to see him and the two of you stared at each other for a moment.

"Hi." He said at last.

"Hello." You replied. The air felt awkward and thick. You hated it. "Take a seat, I made you some tea." You scurried out into the kitchen as Chris made himself comfortable. You took your time grabbing the tea, your heart was beating like crazy from nerves. You didn't know what you wanted to say. All you knew, was you desperately wanted things to change. You were so unhappy and that wasn't fair for you! You came back into the living room with the tea to see Chris sitting on the armchair, still wearing his coat and shoes indicating he doesn't plan on staying for very long.

"Thank you," He said, taking his mug. "Look, we need to talk about what happened last night." He sounded quiet, his voice hoarse. As you listened, you noticed the bags under his eyes and how his clothes, the ones he was wearing last night, were all dishevelled, like he slept in them. "This is not how I want my relationship to go," He continued. "I love you. I just... I struggle to trust you. Which is my problem! I know that! And I'll work on that. But you have to meet me in the middle here."

"Meet you in the middle?" You asked, shaking your head slightly with confusion. Chris took a deep breath before he explained.

"I feel like it's unfair you wouldn't let me have your phone last night." He said it like it was so obvious. It took all your strength not to interrupt him, telling him to stop talking before he starts pissing you off. "I mean, I let you use mine all the time. You know I have trust issues, I was just asking for a little help to deal with that."

"I shouldn't have to give up my privacy to help you with your issues." You said, a little more harshly than you intended. "How about couples therapy? Get through this without breaking any boundaries." You tried to reason but it became clear that was not a good route to take. Chris stood and started to pace around the chairs.

"Why do you need privacy from me? I'm your boyfriend! We don't need to waste our time at therapy. All I'm asking is for one simple thing. You can look through mine and I'll look through yours." He stood in front of you now, his frame towered over yours which was still sat on the chair. "You wonder why I get so jealous or - or possessive and then go pull some bullshit like last night!"

"I didn't pull any bullshit!" You said, standing up to meet Chris' harsh gaze. "I asked you to sort your shit out. What about this screams like a good relationship to you Chris? The yelling, the accusations, the constant checking up on me!"

"I don't check up on you." He looked at you like you were mad.

"You call me about fifty thousand times a day, Chris. Which I wouldn't mind so much if you didn't get neurotic every time I accidentally missed a call or took too long to answer a message." You felt tears start to sting your eyes as you finally allowed all your frustrations out, voice getting louder with each word. Usually, you would just try and help Chris in any way you could but no more. No more would you roll over and let him have his way. "You're controlling and jealous all the god-damn time Chris and I can't cope with it anymore!"

The two of you stood still, staring at each other. Both knowing what was coming, neither wanting to be the one to do it. Eventually, you took the jump.

"I don't..." You swallowed, trying hard to not let too much emotion out. You knew if you did, you would break down crying. "I don't think this is working anymore, Chris." You looked away, not bearing to watch the tears that were starting to drop from his eyes. He stepped closer to you so that your bodies were touching. You could smell his cologne, feel his warmth. My God you loved him. "I think our time together is done." You felt his hand under your chin, two fingers holding it and tilting your head so you looked up at him. Using his other hand, he brushed some hair from your face. You felt the familiar tingle on your skin where he touched you. Even after all this time together, he still made you giddy. You stared at him in the eyes as he held you.

"Who is he?" He whispered.

Your head span when he asked. What? What the hell? Who's who? You realised what he meant. Even now, he thinks there's someone else. Even when his possessiveness has pushed you so far to the edge you had no choice but to jump. He still believed your heart belonged to another. You realised right then, nothing will ever make him believe you. You could stand here and rip your chest open, bleeding out as you gave him your heart and he would still tell you it wasn't enough. It would never be enough. His trauma was too much for you to handle anymore and it was finally time to start putting yourself first again.

"I know you probably won't believe me Chris, but I need you to listen to me." You took his face in your hands, making sure to make strong eye contact as you spoke. "I love you. No one else, ok? Never anyone else. I was faithful. I was strong. I loved you more than I thought I ever could." The tears started to fall from both your eyes at a much quicker pace. "None of the incredible things that have happened to me in the past few years would have happened to me without you. I owe you for that. But I owe myself to be happy too." You used your thumb to wipe away some of the tears from his cheeks. "I love you. So much. But we need to end. I can't do this anymore." Chris took your hands in his. He pressed his lips against them both as a way to muffle his cries. "I'm so sorry." You sobbed. "I'm sorry Chris. I wish I was strong enough to keep going but I'm not. I love you."

Chris dropped your hands and grabbed your face, bringing it towards him as he hurriedly captured your lips in a breath-taking kiss. He held you close to him, your kiss becoming salty as your tears mixed on your tongues. He tasted of his usual toothpaste along with some of the tea he barely touched. His hair felt soft as you ran one of your hands through it, using the other to grab his coat and pull him closer. When the need for air became too much, you pulled away, chest rising and falling as you both tried to catch your breath. You stared at him, debating whether this was the right choice. You loved him so much your heart hurt. But what came next... you knew you made the right decision.

"Does he kiss you like that?"

Your mouth dropped at those words. Nothing would ever change. You walked away from him, picking up his keys from the table and handing them over to him.

"I'm at work tomorrow, I'll make sure your stuff is packed and ready for you to collect whilst I'm out." You muttered. You had cried too much all ready for a relationship that died months ago. You refused to cry anymore. Chris took the keys from your grip and stared at you. His jaw twitched. Clearly words were trying to escape from his lips but he wouldn't let them. You had never seen Chris like this. You couldn't tell what he was feeling. But that was no longer your problem.

"I hope he breaks your heart like you did mine," Chris said at last. When you didn't reply, Chris let out a dry laugh before walking out of your home. For the very last time.

You finally allowed yourself raw emotions. You collapsed onto your sofa, hands scrunched over your face as you bellowed, cries echoing off the walls. You could feel your heart breaking in two as you realised he would never hold you again. That you would never wake up to his hugs, that would never taste his lips on yours again. But it was for the best. You deserved someone who would trust you and that someone, sadly, would not be Chris Evans. No matter how much you loved him, he was not the man you were destined to be with.

A/N: Oh I’m sorry you wanted a happy ending? We don’t do that here.

#chris evans #imagine chris evans #chris evans x reader #text message #angst #break up #argument #part two #bored-mumma #theartofimagining13

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stylesann · 4 years ago

Text

Stark’s retirement plan

Steve Rogers x fem!reader

Summary: Steve looks for his happy ending.

Warnings: none?

A/N: idk what this is… I just felt excited about writing and apparently the only thing I’m able to do is twist Steve’s ending 145 times because I did not enjoy cannon version hihi, and welll this is the results tho it might be really bad i still wanted to post lol, bear in mind english is not my first language so there could have some mistakes anddd to finish, any comments are appreciated 💕 💕 -> written and posted 16/06/21 ->I do not own any marvel characters or anything really

Masterlist

“You're a good man, Sam. This one's on me, though” Steve answered his friend and directed himself to Bucky. “Don't do anything stupid 'till I get back.”

“How can I? You're taking all the stupid with you” they both chuckle and hug. Bucky knows something is up with Steve, he knows him and he sees all the signs that something is making him nervous, unsettled. “Gonna miss you, Buddy.”

“It's gonna be okay, Buck” Steve assures his friend. Truth is, he is not sure it will. Steve’s been anxious, every since he saw her that day he couldn’t help but feel his heart ache. All he wanted was to go straight to her and hug her and never let go. He knows he has a decision to make, an important one in fact, but he can’t help but wonder the consequences that the deepest desires of his heart would cause in the timeline, and that itself makes him pray everything will work out as planned for once in his life. Steve goes over to the Quantum portal and activates the time-travel suit.

“How long is this gonna take?” Sam asks.

“For him? As long as he needs. For us? Five seconds… Ready, Cap? Alright. We'll meet you back here, okay?”

“I’ll see you in a minute” Steve tells his friends before he disappears on the platform.

***********

“Steve!!”

“Steve, answer the coms! Are you seeing this??” Steve hears the voice screaming at his past version while you’re all fighting the Wakanda Battle. It’s you. God, he has missed you so much during the past 5 years. He almost cries knowing what is to happen in the near future to you. He can’t let it happen again.

Steve knows his past version is too far from where you where fighting many aliens all by yourself. He knows that what you where referring is a few alien ships arriving from the sky, and normally he would go directly to you but Thanos is about to show up in Wakanda and take all of his attention. Back then, he couldn’t have reached you on time to stop that alien from stabbing you seconds before half the universe is turned to dust. But now, damn him if he wouldn’t be there to take you out of the battle alive.

Steve knows he had to act quickly so that everyone would assume you just got dusted too. When people were to show up in 5 years and you didn’t… well he would worry about that later.

The soldier sees the aliens trapping you in the middle of them and they start to close the circle, leaving you with less and less space to defend yourself from their attacks. You were losing. He could see your movements slower and you were clearly tired. Your breath was heavy and you had injuries on your arms and torso. Steve decides now is a time as good as any to get you out of here. He steps out of his hiding place and runs to you.

With Steve there you both manage to get the aliens down. You seemed to be ready to thank him when the atmosphere changes. What was before a chaotic battle noise, now was silence. That was it, Thanos had snapped his fingers, and Steves time gap to act was getting smaller. He grabbed your hand and dragged you to where he was waiting before. The confusion was evident in your face but he didn’t have the luxury to explain it to you in the moment, so he just asks you to trust him and you both wait until it’s safe to leave without people seeing you or him.

************

Steve could hear the raindrops outside while he prepared a tea for you. He looked out of the kitchen window and spoted you sitting in a small couch that you both decided to put on the front porch of your house. You were wearing his big sweatshirt and had a blanket covering your legs, the perfect description of cozy if someone ever asks Steve.

The weather was chilly but Steve couldn’t feel any happier. He had you, he finally had you in his arms after spending so long without hearing your voice or feeling your touch. He spent 5 years missing your presence, your quirks and your habits. He felt so empty, like a man out of time again. He was out of time with you, except that now he wasn’t.

As soon as you both had been able to leave Wakanda without being caught, he told you what had happened. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t realised his face seemed more tired and older than hours ago, when you had last seen his past self. To you it was obvious when you looked at him, at his eyes that carried the weight of the world, that he was there for a reason. It was clear to you that you wouldn’t had made it out alive if he hadn’t interfered with the aliens and so you understood beforehand what he would tell you, but Steve still had to explain everything else, and he did.

The soldier cried a lot when he told you what life without you was like and it broke you heart to see such a strong man in such a fragile state. Steve then mentioned Stark’s plan of retirement, of moving out of town and starting a family maybe, and he said he wanted that with you, which you agreed.

And now you both lived in a simple house in front of a small lake, that had a lot of trees around which provided the most beautiful sight wether it is a sunny or a rainy day. The house was far away from the avengers compound, you both pretty much spend 5 years secluded without seeing your friends in order to not mess too much with the timeline. But there was one change that couldn’t be avoided and you as much as Steve knew that he would have to reveal in a couple of months, when the avengers were supposed to bring everyone back from the dust.

“How is my two favourite people in the world?” Steve chants from the door. He hands you the tea and hugs your side while you accommodate to his body.

“We’re good, the baby is sleeping I guess, he just stopped moving” you chuckle lightly as your hand goes to your belly to caress you 8 month bump. You feel Steve’s hand on your bump and you see him sporting the biggest grin.

“You sleeping there J?” He lowers his head and whispers to the baby, receiving no kicks back.

“Yeah, definitely sleeping. Probably tired from the party that he threw this morning on my belly. I swear I couldn’t sleep 3 hours straight” you yawn tiredly.

“One more month and he’ll be here with us, honey” you cuddle closer to him as you drink your tea. One more month and your baby James will be here. Just one more month and you both are gonna be the happiest ever.

************

“And returning in, five, four, three, two, one–“ Bruce activates the Quantum platform, but nothing happens.

“Where is he?” Sam asks nervously, wondering if something went wrong.

“I don't know. He blew right by his time stamp. He should be here.”

“Well, get him back.”

“I'm trying.”

“Get him the hell back!”

“I said, I'm trying!

“Sam...” Bucky calls, he’s looking at a man sitting in a log. They both walk closer to see Steve, a few years older, wearing normal clothes but caring a round bag with him.

Sams the first one to approach. “So did something go wrong, or did something go right? You look older, no offence”

“Well, after I put the stones back, I thought, maybe I'll try some of that life Tony was telling me to get.” Steve answers, he knew the past few months made an impact in his appearance, considering the baby wouldn’t let you or him sleep for too long. It’s almost laughable that the great Captain America was taken down by his baby son.

“And how'd that work out for you?”

“It is beautiful. And that’s why I can’t have this anymore” Steve hands the shield to Sam. “You’re the best man for the job, and I know you’ll make it proud… How does it feel?”

“Like it belongs to someone else.”

“It doesn’t.”

“You wanna tell me about her?” He asks seeing a wedding ring on his friends finger, and Steve smiles getting up to go back to you and your son.

“Eventually, but for now, I don't think I will.”

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x you

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deadinside-butstill-horny · 4 years ago

Text

The Night We Met

Part Three - Most Of You

Pairing: Javier Peña/ Female Murphy!Reader

Words: 10k - Word count got away from me.

Summary: We learn a little about Y/N’s past. Tequila is involved and inhibitions lowered.

Content Warnings: Mentions of death, themes of PTSD,18+ SMUT warning, oral, fingering, dirty talk, penetrative sex. Lots and lots of consent, cause consent is sexy and you know our boy Javi is nothing if not respectful.

MASTERLIST

AO3

Author Note: I really enjoyed writing this. It’s absolutely just porn with minor plot but I have no regrets.

Got the gif from this photo set during the week because THAT’S THE SMILE I’M ON ABOUT. That cute as fuck half smile; it melts my heart.

Part One - Part Two

It just so happened that when Javier decided to stop trying to seduce you, the two of you could actually be around one another and have a good time. Well, not quite as good as that night. But in the grand scheme of things; good-ish.

After the debauchery that had occurred outside of the church the two of you had ceremonially agreed to a ceasefire on all hostilities with your second meeting. You were equal parts surprised and disappointed that Javier had been on his best behaviour, the two of you had successfully bought the ingredients and were currently producing what was sure to be a decent breakfast without either of you ending up naked.

He was the picture of domesticity as he sat on the counter top with a beer in his hand at 8:15am as you whisked some eggs in a bowl using a fork, you paused for a moment, taking a sip of your own beverage, then resuming your task as you threw the eggs into the too hot pan making them sizzle on the skillet.

"No, no, no, no." Javier cried and pushed himself off of the counter as he tutted, coming to your side and placing his hand on the curve of your waist to move you out of his way. His hand slithers forward and lingers a second on your own fingers before he takes the spatula and puts space between the two of you to manage the task at hand.

For a moment, you're perplexed. The movement itself wasn't particularly invasive or breaking from the gentlemanly persona he had adopted in the last two hours, but rather it was an act of, well, familiarity. Which reason dictates simply shouldn’t exist between the two of you.

You had known each other for a grand total of 48 hours and that was being generous as you had been comatosed for easily 15 of those. He had a bad habit of popping up when you least expected it and disarming you with an easy smile.

You didn’t like how he made you feel. Everything you said, you measured his reaction, a pull of his lip, a flash of his teeth or a narrow of his brow; these were his tells, well his obvious ones.

You tried desperately to convince yourself that this was platonic analysis. It would seem you could kid Javier but you couldn’t trick yourself. You felt things for the man that you really shouldn’t after knowing him for two days. You were frustrated with the situation, he’d slept with another woman hours after your encounter. You were jealous, sure, but not betrayed.

It was a matter of pride, that evening had somewhat extinguished the fire for the bronzed man who was currently trying to save the eggs you’d flash fried. What you were experiencing were embers. Yes, embers. The fire hadn’t completely been doused and all you had was a residual heat. A deep glowing burning heat, sure. But eventually reality would be sure to dump some more water on this fire and you wouldn’t feel this lingering need for the man, right?

“¡Espero que te gusten los huevos calientes!” Javier hollered over the sizzling with a smirk on his face as he scraped at the pan with the instrument he’d stolen from you.

“Eggs and Hot? That’s all I got!” You question a smile warming your face, apparently his enthusiasm was contagious.

He chuckled at your words and nodded, “Tu español no es tan malo linda dama!”

“I got nothin’ besides español,'' you shrug. Javier let out another snicker, he seemed to laugh a lot but he was missing the soft wrinkles bracketing his mustache which made you think that maybe this wasn’t his natural state. There was a light silence whilst he sliced the loaf of bread you’d picked from the store. As you were setting the table your book caught your eye from its place on the coffee table and you couldn’t resist trying out some of your newly learnt infant level language.

“Hola Javier, mi nombre es Y/N. Mi color favorito es el Y/F/C.¡Me gustan los perros!”

(My name is Y/N, My Favourite colour is Y/F/C. I like dogs!)

Javier turned around his expression; a picture of incredulousness. His eyebrows met in the middle of his forehead, his mustache almost touching his nose as you got a view of his brilliant white teeth in a genuine honest to god grin. If you had a camera, you’d have captured that moment.

“I’ll have to be careful around you, huh, sunshine? These new Spanish skills of yours could get me into trouble.”

“Bailar es divertido!” You exclaim using the only Spanish phrase you know.

“What?...Dancing is fun?... Where the hell did you learn this stuff?”

“Español … para... niños”

“Española para niñas” Javier corrected helpful “Unless you’ve got something you need to tell me...”

“Damn! The masculine and feminine, they briefly touched upon the theory in Spanish for Kids. It wasn’t as in depth as you might think though.” You joke with a huff. “Hey, do you know where I can get a better translating book?”

“Learning Spanish, huh? How long are you plannin’ on staying exactly?” You jump at the addition of a third voice, Steve appears looking thoroughly rested with his voice two octaves lower than it should be.

“Well ya’ know Stevie, it’s pretty ignorant to not learn a little of the language of the country you’re in.”

“You didn’t answer the question.” Steve points out, you’d hoped he would give in and let it go considering Javier was here. Though seeing as he greeted his partner whilst grabbing a cup of coffee before turning expectantly towards yourself, your chances of skirting around the subject seemed slim.

“I don’t have any commitments at home, not like I got the hospital waiting for me to come back. So... I’mma stay… ya know … live a little!”

“Gillian? She’s not waiting for you?”

“Nah, I quit.”

“You quit?! It took you fuckin’ ages to get that job.”

“Stevie, If I have to clean up puke in a fucking grocery store once more. I honestly don't think I can take it- don’t look at me like that. Three times is three times too many!”

“You’re fuckin’ out of your mind. This isn’t a holiday.”

“No, but I need some change, you clearly need to get your ass kicked back in line. We both win! If you help me get a job it’ll be great… I can practically speak Spanish already....”

“I dispute that.” Javier piped up.

“Shut up.” You say as you throw the tea towel at him. “Look Stevie. Everything’s fine. You were fine with Connie and Olivia being here. I’m a grown ass woman.” There was silence as Javier continued moving around the kitchen, only this lull was a little heavier, you chalk it up to you being the youngest and the only girl in a family with three brothers. God knows they’d been benching you your entire life.

“Fine.” Steve huffed and sat down at the table as you and Javier served up. The man in question gave you a conspiratorial wink as you passed one another. Nothing more was said on the matter as you tucked into breakfast. Infact, pleasant conversation was kept up all through the meal until it came time for Javier and Steve to go.

“We gotta get into the embassy. Heard rumours the new boss starts soon and we need to get our ducks in a row.” Steve nodded to Javier's words. “You ready to get back in the ring?”

“Been ready for the past two weeks, man. This leave of absence was bullshit”

Steve grabs his coat as you watch expectantly, waiting for your invite to the boys club, that inevitably doesn’t come. Instead you receive a much more in character; “Stay in the apartment, for god sakes Y/N. Just for today. I’ve left my number on the pad if you need me.”

You nod noncommittally and combined with a shrug the action hits its mark as Steve sighs.

“This isn’t funny. Bogotá isn’t safe for you.” You repeat your action, this time without the shrug. He huffs but carries on out of the door, he must have realised that was as much as an acquiescence as he was going to recieve, Javier follows him but stops on the threshold.

“Te encontraré ese libro, Guapa.” He calls out before closing the door behind him.

“no hablo español, motherfucker!” You shout after him, you vaguely hear his warm chortle as he descends down the stairs. With your legs propped up on the chair in front of you, you huff and look around the room. The absolute assholes had left you with the washing up. Yeah, feminism was definitely taking a hit during your time in Colombia.

Apparently the agents hadn’t got the memo about the change in gender roles, you cursed their names as you turned on the radio to some latin music and began the arduous process of cleaning the entire kitchen, including the appliances and counters you hadn’t even used.

You then moved onto the lounge, hey, if you were going to play the role of housewife, you were going to at least be a good one. You hoovered, reorganised and dusted your ass off for at least three-ish hours before you got bored, abandoning your work for snooping, you were only human after all.

First you looked in the medicine cabinet and found nothing good, I mean, you don’t know what crazy drugs you were expecting your brother, the DEA agent, to have in his possession but you were crestfallen with the dull discovery of a spare toothpaste, American xanax and ‘aspirina bebé’.

With a lamentful sigh you took your sleuthing into the bedroom, pulling his bedside drawer open with a hesitant hand. You don’t know what dark sexual preferences your brother and Connie may or may not have and you didn’t want to risk permanent scarring. As you open it fully you glance inside remaining tentative, your eyes first fall on the badge left behind. He must have forgotten it. You take it out and place it on the bed beside you as you continue to investigate.

Your hands find a wad of folded yellow notepad paper, the jagged edges have been ripped from the main pad in frustration. Unfolding the wad, you do a once over of the sheet in front of you. The words ‘Dear Connie,’ make you halt in your sted. Finding a gimp mask or weed was funny, this however crossed a line. So you placed the notes back where you found them, you turned to grab the badge and place it back on top of the pile but as the light shone on the metal an idea sprung to mind.

To say you were famed for your impulse control issues was an understatement. You often acted first with no regard for the consequences, hence your presence in Colombia and your extensive shoe collection. But as you drove your brother's Jeep through the streets of Bogotá, you realised that you may finally push Steve over the edge. Already in too deep you took the final turn, following the map you had spread out on the passenger side and were greeted with the American flag. Eureka. You had taken an embarrassing amount of wrong turns but had finally arrived.

You pulled up to the barrier and smiled at the Colombian guard donned in a dark green uniform.

“Hola, Agent Murphy DEA asked me to drop off his badge.” You wiggle the object of your deceit in his eye line.

“Identification?” The guard asked in heavily accented English. You shut off the car's engine as you turn to your purse and pull your driver's license out and hand it over. He inspects the plastic, looking between you and the ID before nodding and handing it back to you, definitely not a social butterfly. He then waved to the gentleman controlling the barrier, allowing you access.

“DEA office is to the right. Personnel only.”

“I’ll be in and out, quick as a flash.” You reassuringly smile at the man and receive only a stony glare in return. Deciding to stop pushing the apparently limitless bounds of your dumb luck you pull through the barrier and into the car park on the right. You park up in what you hope is an unreserved space and hop out of the tall vehicle.

“Right, what's the plan again?” you mumble to yourself as you pause for a second, before starting towards the cream building and hopping up the stairs. You cling to the badge like a life raft, terrified you’ll be stopped as the imposter sight-seerer you are. Now in your defence, you knew this was dumb. Steve had an important job and distracting him wasn’t helpful in the least, but you couldn’t help yourself. Stay inside- like that was ever going to happen.

So you scoured the offices of the embassy for about fifteen minutes before you decided to break and ask for help, finally stopping an american looking woman with large stylish shoulder pads and even bigger hair.

“I’m looking for the DEA office? Steve Murphy, Javier Peña?” She seemed to bristle at the mention of the latter.

“Take that elevator to the third floor and it's the third door on the left, but watch out for Peña, he’s a real- '' She cut herself off with a huff, before nodding your way and walking off.

No shit, sister.

Following the potentially scorned woman's instructions you found yourself in the DEA Bogotá headquarters; only Steve and Javier were nowhere to be seen.

Fuck.

You looked around the room taking a slight step back getting ready to turn on your heel as an older white haired man entered the room.

“Hey Newbie, I need two copies of each of these and I need these faxed to the team in Medellín.”

“Uh-”

“I needed them there yesterday, so get to it.” He dumps the two huge piles of files into your arms as you stare at him bemused. Looking back you still don’t know why you didn’t say anything, but you rolled up your sleeves and whipped out that can-do attitude and got to work, at what was apparently your new guerilla admin job. And that is how Javier and Steve found you two hours later, fighting with a fax machine and on the phone to the office in Medellín.

“No- I understand how the machine works… Yes… Yes I’ve turned it off and on, I think the problems on your side… No I don’t- Well Weaver needed the case file there yesterday so you need to figure something out! Yes… Yes I’ll hold. “ You turned when you heard steps behind you, pressing the receiver between your head and your shoulder and holding the fax machine manual.

“Hey Guys!” You say cheerily, pretending like this was completely normal, like you hadn’t just dropped into Steve’s life and then surprised him every step of the way.

“What in the hell are you-” Steve started, however the woman on the other side of the phone decided to pick up, you held up one finger to the two of them as a pause.

“Oh, Hey Salome, It’s no problem… that’s great, I'll give it a try.” You drop the manual and press the green button on the fax machine, the machine begins making the whizzing sound you’d been chasing for the past twenty minutes. “Sounds all good on my end. Right, that's great I’ll send the rest across now. Thanks, have a nice day!”

“Am I high, right now? What the fuck is going on?” Steve’s tone matched his face with the disbelief painted upon it. He had taken a seat at the desk which just so happened to be next to the fax machine and copier. Javier sat at his own in front of the typewriter with a smirk on his face lighting up a cigarette.

“Uh, well... I came to give you your badge cause’ you forgot it at home and then Weaver asked me to do some copies. Turns out that security here is pretty lax, cause’ I’ve been copying and faxing classified case files for the past two hours and no one seems to know or care that I don’t work here.” Steve’s eye all but twitched as he rubbed at his face. He reached into his bottom drawer and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and began pouring himself a glass.

“Fine.” He actually shrugged after downing the drink in one. Damn, You weren’t sure which had broken him, yourself or Colombia. “Better you’re here where I can keep tabs on you...Javi, can we get her an actual job?”

“I’ll run it by Messina,” Javier shrugged as he stood from behind his desk. “Probably best not to mention the perusal of classified cases though.”

So that’s how the three of you ended up at dinner celebrating your new job four days later, you were officially an office administrator for the DEA in Colombia, heading to the CNP base of operations in Medellín alongside your brother and his partner as their administrator, well, from what you understood, you were their dogsbody. Your Spanish speaking ability had been greatly exaggerated but you were undeniably overqualified for the position, so, pending a background check you were through doors.

Your interview with Steve and Javi’s boss; Messina, had been nerve wracking and your Murphy name had won you no favours.

You’d given it your best and from what you could see you’d managed to convince her you were worth your salt.

Yep, you’d proved yourself totally capable and more importantly, completely willing to move around 8 hours away to Medellín to live on an army base where a drug cartel was incredibly active. According to Javi this had apparently made you a very appealing hire to the DEA. As such you were being sent along with the boys to help out on the front line, well, as close to the front line as an admin/dogsbody gets.

The three of your glasses clinked in unison, before you drained your shot with a regretful gasp, Tequila was the devil.

“Thank you to Javi, for not only saving my sister from her stupidity once, but twice… or is it three times now?!” Steve lifted his second shot as he gave his heartfelt speech. Picking up the lime you’d just sucked the juice out of you launched it at him, missing by some margin. He let out what could only be described as a snigger as both him and Javi threw their second shots back.

If you were completely honest with yourself, you were wasted.

The three of you had enjoyed a meal and many, many subsequent drinks. Knowing full well the two men had a distinct advantage of having had at least a year to pickle their livers in whiskey from the stress of this place, you had insisted that for every two drinks they had, you had one. .

Still, six drinks in with no sign of stopping you felt better than you really had any right to. The room had yet to start spinning and for those small mercies, you were thankful.

“Nah, Thankyou to you both! I’ve heard Medellín is lovely this time of year!”

“Well, you won’t know. You’ll be spending all of your time on base, where it’s safe.”

“Steve-”

“Non-negotiable. You wanna come to Medellín, fine. But you do what I say, and no Y/N’s day out like in Bogotá.”

“Dude, you’re such a buzz-kill!”

“Dude? What are you 15?!” Javier jokes with a cigarette between his lips. You’d been here only a week and yet he’d managed to navigate how to defuse an impending Murphy fight from a mile away.

“You should’a seen her at 15. Those teeth!”

“Ya’ got any pictures?” Javi asks, half distracted with flagging down the waitress and showing her five fingers.

“Really Steve, you wanna go there? After the earring incident?” Javier turns his full attention on you.

“Murphy had an earring?”

“No-” Steve tries to interrupt.

“Yep, a nice little hoop.”

“I didn’t…”

“It got caught on his windbreaker and he ripped it out of his ear, it got infected.”

“Wind breaker?” Javier was biting his lip and staring at your brother, not really trying so hard to contain his laughter.

“Can’t think why I didn’t want you around, Sis. Look- I was trying something out; It didn’t work, so I moved on.” You wait a beat, allowing Javier to take in the information before you helpfully and without prompt drop a nugget of information for the Hispanic man.

“... He had to go to hospital.” A chortle burst unintentionally from Javier’s chest as your comment caught him by surprise.

“Y/N!” Steve burst out in frustration, making you cackle with glee.

“Okay, Okay.” You hold your hands in mock surrender as the waitress drops another round of drinks on the table.

“Let’s head over to the discotheque, live music- no Sicario’s. Big with Bogotá policia so very safe.” Javier pitched like he was speaking to a child as he tried to convince Steve. He knew you were in from the excitement that lit up your form.

“I don’t know, dancing-”

“Would be good for you! Come on Steve, this place is closing soon anyway-” You counter, only to be cut off as he frantically looks at his watch.

“What time is it- I promised I’d phone Con tonight- FUCK!” He stood quickly grabbing the table to steady himself and ran to the phone box just outside of the bar, you could just about see him from where you sat in the window booth besides Javi.

The two of you looked at one another for a moment, you weren’t quite at the level where conversation came easy, but you weren’t uncomfortable by any means.

“Thanks for talking to Messina for me… honestly. You’ve done so much for me since I got here.”

“Like I said, it’s no problem, guapa.” He smiles at you, not a smirk for once but a delighted easy smile that rarely graces his face. “I saw your CV.”

“Oh.” The smile drops off of your face, his eyes analyse your reaction, the easy smile replaced by a sombre expression.

“Yeah, Oh. You were a doctor, a surgeon? I thought you mopped up vomit in a grocery store in Miami?”

“It’s complicated.” You gave him no further explanation, you expected him to move on, except Javier wasn’t like other people, he didn’t make things easy. He stared at you expectantly with those deep brown questioning eyes. “Christ, okay. Yes I was in my final year of residency, not quite a surgeon.”

“How does that happen?”

“How does what happen?” You question, you know you’re being difficult but this isn’t something you’ve talked about with Steve, for Godsakes. He did that trick once more, hitting you with those soul-full eyes.

Honestly, it was lucky you weren’t working for Escobar, forget waterboarding, all Javi would have to do was look at you to get you to give up your darkest secrets. “Things didn’t go my way, I wasn’t happy there. The hours were long and that shit was heavy.”

He didn’t seem satisfied with your answer but he didn’t push any further, finally respecting your reluctance, he nodded. Stubbing out his cigarette and tilting his head towards the shots he asked “...Another?”

“Why not?” You reply hesitantly.

Taking the salt you go to shake it onto the back of your hand when a tanned one stops your movement in its wake.

“No, no, no. Let’s do it a little different.” His eyes shot up to where your brother was leaning against the phone booth before he took your hand in his. Adjusting his grip he lifts your wrist to his mouth. Your heart is beating in your ears as you watch as his pink tongue pokes out and laps one, twice at your pulse point. A long line of saliva is left on your wrist as he shakes the salt over it. His eyes meet yours for a moment, as if asking permission.

You don’t know how you even instruct your brain to nod, but regardless you carry out the action. Javi brings his mouth to your wrist once more in one solid stroke of his talented tongue, your eyes clamp closed as he finishes swiping up the salt before draining both the tequila and lime.

You’re breathing heavy as you open your eyes, to find those mahogany ones laser focused on you.

“You missed a step.” You mumble, your eyes never leaving his as you hold the lime up to his mouth, rind first. His teeth close over it and his lips just barely graze your fingertips. You turn to check on Steve, thankfully your brother has his back to the two of you, deep in conversation with Connie. Probably for the best, given your plan.

You turn sideways to face Javi, lifting one of your legs up onto the booth and bending it at the knee to get a vantage point. The alcohol coursing in your veins gives you the courage as one hand wraps around his neck and the other his shoulder, you lean forwards to give one long solitary lick up his neck, right on the pulse. You taste his sweat stained skin, salty and warm on your tongue.

Reaching for the shaker, you apply it liberally, smiling as you drop some of it down his t-shirt. Though from the stare he seemingly refused to remove from you, you don’t think he much cared. Once you considered your job done, you turned back and pushed his head to the side and began licking the salt from his neck, this time you tortured him with three small cat licks along the flesh, you felt his neck tense as his hand moved from its place on the pleather booth and wrapped around your thigh.

You reached back to the table and sank your shot. Wincing you turned back to Javier, leaning forward to grab the lime from his mouth. As you did so, he dropped it purposefully, staring directly into your eyes, a clear challenge, before he grabbed the back of your head and pulled you forward locking your lips in a devastating kiss. He tasted of lime, tequila and just Javier; that unexplainable component which was both sweet and smoky. His tongue plundered the depths of your mouth, seemingly uncaring of your brother who was mere metres away. Your hands roved his chest before locking in the short hair on the nape of his neck.

Unexpectedly it was Javi who broke the kiss. The two of you paused with your foreheads meeting, much like the night you met. He seemed to be trying to regain control.

“Meet me in the bathroom?” You whisper, rubbing your nose against his beautifully angular hooked one. He breathed out heavily through his nose, his eyes opening and pushing you away by your shoulders.

“No, I’m not gonna fuck you in the fucking bathrooms of a filthy fucking bar- are you crazy?” Behind his eyes a rage and arousal battled, apparently you had rattled him with your question, he reached forward for his whiskey, and took a sip whilst shaking his head and trying to centre himself. “I’m giving you whiplash? Yeah that’s real cute. You change what you want every single fuckin’ day, then look at me like I’m a dick.”

You supposed he had a point, after all you had been the one to ask for the redo and then stared at him longingly every day since. “It’s not an easy situation to navigate, ok? I came here for Steve-”

“You didn’t come here for Steve.” He uttered under his breath, staring straight ahead with his elbow perched on the table and holding the glass to his mouth.

“Excuse me?”

“You didn’t come here for Steve, not completely. You came here for you.”

“That’s not-” Javier turns to you, locking you down with his gaze. It was easy to forget he was a cop; observative and attentive to a fault, he could call your bullshit from a mile away.

“Everything you’ve done since you got here, that’s not for him. You’re desperate for some life back in those veins. You don’t just give up being a fuckin’ surgeon and feel fulfilled with your position at a fuckin’ grocery store, Sunshine.”

“Wow, you’ve got me pegged, huh? No wonder they’ve got you after Escobar, best detective on the fucking case.” You roll your eyes refusing to look at him, sipping a beer as a way of hiding how he’s unnerved you. Everything he’s saying true and you’re ashamed of yourself.

“You don’t come down to the embassy if you’re trying to make your brother's life easier. I’m not criticizing Guapa, but how about cutting the bullshit messiah complex.”

You’re embarrassed and trying to look anywhere but him. His hand reaches for your own as Steve rounds the corner, the tanned fingers instead lock around the shot glass in front of you.

“So, what’d I miss?” Your voice is lodged in your throat, you don’t think you could speak even if you could think of the words you wanted to use. Javi answers in some nondescript way you don’t even really listen to before ordering another round of drinks.

“Y/N/N, You alright?” Steve asked, ever the concerned brother.

(your nickname)

“Yeah, Javi- uh, he saw my cv.” It wasn’t a complete lie but you still feel bad for using past trauma to make your brother skirt around the issue in the way you knew he would.

“Oh, Uh… Drink?” Steve stared at you, uneasy.

“Yeah, a drink would be great.” Your voice is monotone to even your ears, you reach forward and down the beer in front of you, desperate for this awkwardness to be over and the feeling in the pit of your stomach to vanish. You’re happy to say after around ten minutes of the two men holding up the conversation, it atleast eases slightly.

There’s a lull as you all wait drinks arrive and you have managed to regain your basic motor skills. This is the selfishness Javi is talking about. Steve needs a good night, without feeling crappy about his damaged sister stealing the lime-light. So putting your best foot forward you look across to Javi and smile.

“So, how was Connie?”

“She’s good! She’s enjoying getting back to work, her sister’s having Liv during the day.” Guilt swells in your stomach once again. You should be there making Connie’s life easier, but instead you abandoned her to play the hero in Colombia. The shame spiral is slowly clawing at your stomach, as you force yourself to take a deep breath.

“That’s good…” You’re saved by the bell, or rather the waitress bringing over the tray of beverages. Taking your beer first, you reach across and controversially take two of the shots. Both men chuckle at your bravado as Javi asks the woman for an extra shot.

The night continued on much like that, minus the regret whirlwind as the tequila seemed to help get rid of any real self reflection. The three of you didn’t even make it to the discotheque, as by the time the bar closed, the three of you began the short walk home, you were carrying the large box of pizza that you had insisted on ordering.

Surprisingly, Steve was the drunkest of your trio. His phone call with Connie had sent him into his own spiral. He began drinking tequila like it was water, to the point Javier had thrown in the towel, deciding he’d much rather like to live to see tomorrow. So with your pizza in one arm and your other wrapped around your brother's waist, you and Javi half carried Steve home and up the stairs into the apartment.

The two of you unceremoniously dumped him on his bed, carefully you placed the pizza box you had cradled to your breast on the chest of drawers before you stepped forward past Javier.

You pulled Steves boots off of his feet and pulled his legs up onto his bed, taking his belongings out his pockets; yes, including his gun, you placed them on the bedside table. You then placed a glass of water and an aspirin next to them, feeling sympathy for his head tomorrow morning.

Happy that your job was done, you shut the light off and went into the living room, once again cradling the pizza. Javier was slouched on the sofa/your bed flicking through your Spanish introduction book, as you entered the room he threw it back on the table and pointed at the empty whiskey bottle on the coffee table.

“Got any more?”

“Think, that was his last one…” you shrug.

“Come down to mine for a drink? I don’t like how we left things.”

“No more talking?” Javier looks at you reproachfully, scanning your body as if the direct proposition you’d accidentally given him was the last thing he expected. “Uh- I mean- no more hard questions and no more...touching.”

“Alright.” He nods, pushing himself up with a sigh. “But if there’s no more touching, I get half of that pizza Sunshine.”

You nod and smile, following him down the stairs to his apartment. As you cross the threshold emboldened by tequila, you don’t dwell on your self destructive tendencies as Javier’s recent comments would’ve made you if you were sober.

You’re tired and all you want is a drink of whiskey, some pizza and for Javier to give you that smile, the one that makes the side of his mustache raises and reveals the pearly white of his teeth. Dropping the pizza down on the coffee table you make yourself at home, sitting very deliberately on the couch he hadn’t screwed someone else on. If he notices, Javi didn’t say anything.

He hurried over, cigarette balanced in between his lips as both hands were taken up. One holding two glasses and the other cradling the whiskey. He sits himself down with considerably more grace than you had, on the other sofa. You reach down the side of the sofa where you spy the remote peeking out from beneath the leather cushion and begin skimming through the channels until you find the telenovelas you'd unironically begun watching since arriving in Colombia.

Opening the box of Pizza, you take a slice and begin devouring the meal. It’s not quite like pizza as you know it, but it's tasty and full of carbs to soak up the alcohol so you can’t find a fault with it. The two of you eat in silence for around half an hour.

It seemed neither of you were eager to break the silence after the daunting conversation from earlier. It’s as you’re taking your first sip of whiskey watching two women argue in Spanish on the television you decide to speak.

“I figure I owe you some answers.”

“You don’t owe me shit, Sunshine.” He’s leaning back in his seat, whiskey balancing on his knee and a fresh smoke in his hand. “Sure I’m intrigued, but I'll figure you out in the end. Miami’s own angel of death?��

You chuckle at how close to the mark he is as he makes a shot in the dark. “I’m gonna need a refill if we’re gonna talk about our feelings…”

“Feelings… woah, woah, woah. I didn’t sign up for that.” He has a brazen smirk on his face, as he takes the now empty glass from your palm and fills it up. You down a second and he repeats the task.

“I killed a kid,” You wheeze as you wince from the burn turning your head towards the television and nursing the now full whiskey glass between your hands. “You asked why I gave up becoming a surgeon. I... I was the lead resident on a fuckin’ appendectomy. I could do that shit in my sleep. I perfed the abdominal wall as I was geting ready to close him up; a tiny fucking knick. There were no bleeders and his vitals remained normal, didn’t even notice I’d done it. It was as they were taking him back to the ward, he just crashed.”

You finish another glass and as your eyes water, you pretend it's the burn of the alcohol. You breathe heavy, your upper lip quivering. You’ve heard of the sensation but never felt it.

“I froze. I opened him up in the lift, by the time I got back in there, he’d bled out. A twelve year old; Justin Miller. Just a fucking kid.” Javi doesn’t try to interrupt or make you feel better, which honestly made the whole thing easier.

“His mom sued the shit out of me and the hospital, can’t say I blame her. I took a sabbatical and when it was time to go back, I couldn’t. Couldn’t go into the OR without having a fuckin’ panic attack.” You hadn’t met Javi’s eyes for the entirety of the one-sided conversation, scared that when you looked up you’d no longer find those treacle eyes filled with warmth.

Silence fills the air for a devastating second whilst Javier digests your words.

“You fucked up.” He mumbled finally, your eyes shot up to his own and within the pools of chocolate you found his usual warmth, though his customary jovial expression was suddenly somber. Such an expression looked strange on the gentle man you’d come to know, but you knew it was far from out of place. “In our line of work, you mess up; someone dies. It’s not fair or easy, just is what it is.”

You don’t have a word for the noise you make, somewhere between a scoff and a gasp. You chuckle as his response to years of complex trauma you’ve never recovered from is boiled down to five simple words.

“It is what it is.” You repeat disbelieving.

“Can’t change the past. Useless to try.”

“Stuff it down with the brown?” You ask, lifting your empty glass in a cheers.

“Exactly, Guapa.” He unscrewed the whiskey bottle and began pouring you a generous portion. As he’s screwing the lid back on he sits back down, this time though he’s on the couch next to you. “Maybe someday I’ll get teary and we can talk about my fuck ups.”

Your only response is to punch at his hard thigh next to you as you take a long sip, thinking about the information you’d willingly just divulged to Javi. “I’ve never talked about that before.”

“Not with Steve?”

“Not with anyone. I was ashamed for a long time, still am. But it’s different now; more manageable.”

“Ready to operate then, Doctor Murphy?”

“Asshole.” You say with a reluctant smile to the joke at your own expense.

“pendejo” he leaned back on the sofa as he translated.

“pen-dejo?”

“Si muy bueno.”

“Another!”

“Coger!”

“Co-g-er?”

“Si insistes…” He trails off with a smirk.

“You’re a dick.”

“Yes, I am.”

After placing your drink on the coffee table, you lean over to Javi slowly, refusing to break eye contact, all the while and you lay your head on the plush leather of the sofa; nearer his shoulder than his own face.

“Thankyou, Javi.”

“I keep telling you, Sunshine. It’s nothing”

“It’s everything,” You close the distance and place a kiss on his lips. It’s neither heavy nor chaste, like when he initiated them. This is full of meaning, It speaks of letting go of the past and welcoming the future, it's deep and warm and delicious. Your tongue licks at his own as your hand rises to rest on his cheek holding him there, you explore the depths of his mouth instead of conquering them. He tastes of the whiskey and somehow residual tequila, you find yourself getting drunk off of the taste of him.

Pulling away you rest your forehead against his own. “I’m so tired… and drunk.”

“Sleep with me.”

“Javier, you said- I mean, I don’t think-”

“No, sleep. Just sleep... with me. Gotta be better than the couch up there,”

“No funny business?”

“Scouts honor.” After a moment of contemplation you decide that this was specifically breaking the rules of your selfishness, the tequila may have altered your perception of the rules somewhat but you had wanted this man for so long. After your emotional confession, falling asleep next to him seemed cathartic.

You take the remote once more and click the red power button, the screen goes black as Javier has already disappeared into his bedroom. You hear him rummaging around in his drawers as you cross the threshold. Once he’s seemingly found what he was looking for, he holds the article up to your inspecting eye.

It’s a plain olive green v-neck tee, nothing particularly special about it, but it would do as pyjamas, so you accept it gratefully, much preferring a tshirt to the sundress you’d worn out to dinner. You push the straps off of your shoulders, letting them fall under your armpits as you clutch the dress to your front. You pull Javier's t-shirt over your head and are greeted by the fragrance you’d come to love. It smelt like washing powder, spice and cigarette smoke, you wouldn’t say smoke was on your top tier of smells list but it reminded you of Javi so you couldn’t bring yourself to turn your nose up at it.

Once the shirt was covering all the important bits, you lowered your dress and stepped out of the offending cloth.

“A little late for modesty, eh?” He smirks as he lights his cigarette, leaning against the pillows of the bed. He was referring to the morning after you’d arrived in Colombia, where you’d walked through this very apartment, bare as the day you were born.

At some point Javi had rid himself of his dress shirt and dropped onto the bed still wearing his jeans. You shimmy your bra down the sleeve of the tee, to make a point. Winking at him as you finally pull it free. You fling it on top of where your dress lay abandoned.

“You’re still a perv for that.” You smile fondly at the man as you clamber over to your side of the bed. He’d taken the left, closest to the door. He doesn’t reply as you make yourself cosy, under the thin blanket of the duvet.

You roll over to face him, he seems to be miles away.

“Where’d you go?” You ask softly, though he startles still.

“I’m right here,” He deflects, leaning over to the ash tray to stub the smoke out.

“Ok…” You roll your eyes as he turns off the lamp and lies flat on the bed next to you. The two of you are silent for a while. It’s not quite awkward but it's definitely not comfortable silence, the two of you know the implications of your decision tonight. Even if Javi is being a perfect gentleman. Your eyes have yet to acclimate to the dark as you stare out trying to search for his form.

“Stop staring at me.”

“It’s dark, I’m not staring at anything.” You reply to his childish remark. You hear a chuckle catch in his throat. He seems then to have finally made his decision, he reaches forward and wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you to his chest. You go to stop him, but there's nothing to stop. He makes no further move as he holds you there. Your cheek rests on the overheated skin of his pectoral, it has just enough give to be comfier than any pillow you’ve ever encountered.

“Maybe, I’ll tell you about my fuck ups one day.” He whispers into your hair, despite the way he says it being non-committal there's a promise behind the words. You don’t reply, already drifting off into the best sleep you’ve had since arriving in Colombia, or perhaps ever.

A part of your brain registers Javi placing a kiss on the crown of your head as your eyes finally shut, though it is quickly replaced by the singular thought of ‘God, I hope I don’t drool all over him.

“You sober?” You look up at the clock on the bedside table that reads 5am. You’d been asleep for about four hours. You make a non committal noise in your throat.

“Javi?” You mumble sleepily, the man behind you is peppering kisses on your neck.

“You want this?” Again you groan, this time however, you nod your head. His arm rises to wrap around your neck, arching your back to get you closer to him. “Do you want this?”

“God yes.” You gasp, pushing your hips back against his bulge. His hands release your stomach as he kisses down your neck once more. His hands are hard on your flesh as they map out your body in the dark.

His hands continue to roam your body as they slide under his shirt, they land on your breasts, he can’t help himself as he weighs them in his hand. He groans in your ear at the feel of them in his palm. You’d always had Javier down as an ass man, he’d nearly burnt a hole through your jeans the night you’d met. But apparently Javi was a man of many tastes as he worshiped your nipple with the pads of his fingers, rolling the sensitive bud through his thumb and forefinger.

You groan at the sensation and push yourself back into him, desperate to feel every inch of his body against your own. You pull away suddenly and he makes a guttural sound in the back of his throat, though all of his questions are answered as you pull his shirt over your head and throw the offensive fabric across the room. As Quick as a flash he’s back on you, his mouth attached to your neck, giving you absolutely no quarter.

He’s the one bucking into you this time and that seems to awaken part of your brain, your hands reach behind you they’re clumsy from sleep and the angle you have is awkward, you struggle with the button of his jeans for a second before his hand leaves one of your breasts to undo it for you. His hand returns as quickly as it left though it doesn't stay there for long as it slowly roves south, stroking the flesh of your stomach and making your entire being tighten up in anticipation as he feels you through your boy shorts. His touches are light at first, testing and exploring your body, before his fingers begin teasingly rubbing at your clit seeming to delight in the way, your wetness seeped through your underwear.

You force your brain back to the task at hand as your hand finds his abdomen and lowers through the hair lurking below his zipper, mimicking the actions he had performed on you moments before, however you have no intention of teasing.

They find their mark, and you have to stop yourself from gasping. You’d felt him on the sofa that night but my god, your imagination hadn’t done him justice as your hand just about closed around him as you pumped him awkwardly behind you. He groaned in your ear and began whispering in a blend of Spanish and English.

His hands rise to dip under your panties, they brush across your mound before they find their home. His fingers barely touch you at first, seeming to be getting the lay of the land. After a moment of teasing, a single solitary finger swipes slowly along your slit, gathering the evidence of your arousal on his fingers.

He groaned in your ear. “So fucking wet, that sweet little cunt is so ready for me…” Instantaneously you lose all motor skills as your body goes into shock, Javier’s dirty mouth would be the death of you.

Fucksake Y/N he wasn’t even inside of you, yet here you were writhing in his arms like a wanton whore from a single sentence.

Your reaction seemed to spur him on as he let go of your body and rolled you onto your back. He swung around on his knees to fit between your legs. His hands rested on your hips, gripping onto the panties that lay there before he rolled them down your legs and threw them behind him. He leaned forward on his elbows, to stare at the most intimate part of you.

Javi began kissing down your thighs, placing small bites along the sensitive skin along the way, getting closer and closer to the throbbing warmth of your pussy.

“I meant what I said, cariño. I want to know how you taste.” Your mind is brought back to that church, the way he had you pushed against those bars, you didn’t think your body could constrict any further. You were desperate for any kind of contact. And you knew right there and then that you had been right; This man would destroy you.

He struck then, much like a cobra towards his prey. His tongue flattened against your warmth, breaching your folds and catching on your clit. The tip of his tongue was skilled as it danced along your bud, drawing cry after cry from you as your hands grabbed at his short ink black hair.

He takes one final lap at your swollen clit before his tongue goes lower, he pushes through and sinks his tongue inside of you. His nose, that you’d appreciated for its character bumped perfectly against your clit making stars shoot behind your eyes. You clenched around his tongue, desperate to be filled, he seemed to get the message as two fingers were quickly buried in your aching hole.

“So fucking tight, Guapa, I don’t know if I can fit three...te lo vas a tomar tan bien.” His tongue had risen back up to your clit, the combination of the vibration and filth of his words made a whimper drop from your lips, before he started rotating his tongue in circles around your swollen bud as his two fingers pumped in and out of your cunt at a thundering pace drawing you closer and closer to the edge as the minutes went by.

Finally, his fingers curled inside you as he sucked your clit into his mouth and all at once you were pushed off the cliff. You couldn’t tell what pushed you over that first peak so quickly, maybe it was the fact that it was Javier, the man who had been plaguing your dreams since you arrived in Colombia, currently between your legs devouring your cunt like a starving man, perhaps it was a culmination of five days of foreplay, but whatever the reason, when you fell, you fell fucking hard.

You clenched around Javi’s fingers like a vice, so much so he hissed into your pussy and began thrusting his fingers faster. Spots clouded your vision as your whole body curved upwards and around the man giving you this pleasure as your legs clamped around his head and your fingers must have scratched his scalp as your hips thrust, riding his face to your peak. You were as taut as bowstring before the tension finally snapped and your body exploded in euphoria. You let out a cry as you crescendo on Javi's talented tongue.

He didn’t stop straight away, even after your body slumped back against the bed, he coaxed you through the aftermath of your orgasm, lapping at your entrance and drinking your come like it was the most delicious wine he’d ever sampled, groaning all the while.

Finally, he pushed himself forward, kissing at your thighs, your mound and finally your stomach as he came to rest over you, holding all his weight on his elbows. His face met your own as he kissed you deep, fucking your mouth with his tongue as he had done your pussy moments before. He leans back rubbing at your stomach, at your hips, at any flesh he can get his hands on.

“Sabes mejor de lo que podría haber imaginado precioso.” He whispers against your breast as his mouth locks around your nipple. Javier Peña speaking Spanish did things to you, even if he hadn’t been stimulating your breasts you knew for a fact you’d be just as wet from hearing him speak in what you could only assume was a first language from the ease with which it left his mouth. You wished more than anything you could understand what was undoubtedly the filth coming from his mouth.

You had recovered enough from his assault on your clit, to move your hands from your sides. They raised up and traced the tanned skin on his chest. He really was beautiful. He pulled back to stare at you, giving you a clearer view of his body.

He was muscled yet lithe and you took a self indulgent moment, committing the sight of him to memory, before your hands wrapped around his cock, which was standing to full attention through the undone zip of his jeans. He was what must have been unbearably hard, if you’d have had light to see, you had no doubt the head of his cock would be purple, straining with need. You pushed his jeans further down, recruiting your feet to push them down over his ass. Your hands roamed down to squeeze at the bountiful offering of meaty flesh.

He chuckled as you pinched his cheek, before lifting his knees one at a time and kicking his jeans off of the bed and before you knew it he was lining himself up, brushing the head of his cock through your wet folds. Despite his groan at the contact, he had the discipline to check a final time. “This is what you want, Y/N?”

You didn’t bother to answer, you pushed his hand away from his cock, and pushed it towards your hole. You pushed your hips up against him in lieu of an answer, welcoming the head of his cock inside you. Even though all you could manage was shallow entry, the feel of him inside of you was glorious.

His hands, those talented, glorious hands found your own, wrapping his significantly larger ones around yours above your head. He pushed forward with one strong thrust of those lithe hips and he buried himself balls deep inside of you, rooted so deep you swear you could feel him in your cervix. He was everywhere, he was plundering every inch of you as his body surrounded your own, heat built between the two of you as sweat began coating both of your bodies.

Every thrust brought you closer to your second peak, turning your head you couldn’t resist trying to get him to claim your mouth too. Though you couldn’t quite reach far enough to make contact, as if reading your mind Javier bent his elbow pushing his torso forward, coincidently pounding deeper into your body as your lips joined in a messy kiss. He was fucking into you slow and deep, his tongue began following the rhythm of his cock as he claimed every single part of you as his own.

The pace was brutally slow, just enough to get you to that edge and keep you on it, you could barely speak. You felt like you were drowning in Javier and every time you came up for air he bottomed out, meeting your hips with his own and the wave of pleasure cut off the oxygen all over again.

“Please… Javi…”

“W-what do you want Sunshine?” He panted out continuing with his slow tempo.

“Faster...please... God.” He ignored your cry for speed and continued fucking you into the matress at his own pace, though his thrusts were just as slow but they were harder. His hips hit against your own, as he put all of his power behind them, getting as deep as he could. If you didn’t know better you’d think he was trying to tunnel through to your womb. You clenched at the thought as he fucked you deep and hard.

“... Javi…” You cried his name, a desperate plea as he kept you suspended over your peak, refusing to let you free fall. Finally he huffed, taking your legs and throwing them over his shoulders.

“You want me to fuck you properly, huh, Guapa?” He began thrusting into you at an arduous pace, the room was filled with your cries, his grunts and slapping of your connecting skin. Those telling black spots were clouding your vision, your second orgasm of the evening was fast approaching. Once again you clenched down on Javi’s thick cock.

“I’m gonna’ come.” His hand lowered and began rubbing at your clit, not pausing for a moment as he fucked you thoroughly.

“ven por mí...ven sobre mi polla… fuckin’ Sunshine, fucking taking my cock…. buena niña, podría follarte todo el día.” The second he lost his brain and began muttering in Spanish was the moment you were gone. You came for the second time as he was relentlessly hammering into you, drawing your orgasm from you. Your whole body braced against him, your eyes squeezed shut as you clamped down around his cock, milking him tightly.

“Fuck!” He growled at the tightness surrounding him.

After a few moments he pulled out, quickly grabbing your and flipping you onto your stomach, after placing a pillow under your hips. He then buried himself back inside of you to the hilt his groans mixing with your own at the sensation. He kept up the pace he had before but this time the angle was deeper as he forced your legs together with his thighs.

Javi’s hands grabbed at your ass (perhaps he was an ass man after all) slapping the meaty flesh which resided there and then instantly kneaded the tissue he’d just abused. His hands rose to carresse the skin of your hips before he took a punishing grip on them and began fucking you in earnest. Javier taking his pleasure from your body whilst you lay a drooling mess from the orgasm he’d already gave you was an image you didn’t know would turn you on, but it made you clench around his shaft as it plundered your depths.

He began speaking again, though they were lost in a mix of Spanish and English, so much so you couldn’t differentiate. His pace was relentless and finally you felt him begin to shake as he gasped above you

“¿dónde?...w...where?”

“Come inside me, Javi.” He groaned at words and continued pounding until his hips stuttered and he brought it home and buried himself deep inside, filling you to the brim with his seed.

The two of you lay there breathing heavy trying hard to get your breath back, half of his weight on top of you and the other half resting on the mattress.His cock was slowly going soft inside of you, yet you felt no urgency to move.

“So much for scouts honor, huh?” You ask from behind a veil of hair, turning your face which had been buried in the mattress moments before. Your voice is hoarse; completely wrecked much like the rest of you.

He’s silent for a moment of consideration, before he leans forward in the moonlight and pushes your hair from your face. The action makes his cock shift inside of you and a little of his release spills out onto your thighs. He continues anyway and places a soft kiss on your lips before whispering “... I was never a boy scout, cariño.”

TAGLIST - Leave a message if you’d like to be added homies.

@drinkingwhileblogging @va-guardianhathaway @jedi-jesi @obsessivelysearching @cannedsoupsucks @wantingtobekorra @littlemissoblivious @linnie0119 @pascalesque @pedrosmustache @sir-lili @obsessivelysearching @fairytale07

A/N: Fuck me that was the steamest shit I’ve ever written. This was especially for @drinkingwhileblogging and her turquoise titties, hope this makes up for me blue balling you all.

#javier pena x reader #javier peña #javier peña x reader #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #murphy!reader #FUCKING SMIRK AT ME MORE JAVI I SWEAR TO GOD T-T #pedro pascal x reader

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antipodeanpineapplelump · 4 years ago

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WIP... Tuesday?

Just in case anyone was wondering what useless novelty project I’m spending my time on now, may I introduce:

Or more accurately: “Shisui Uchiha and the Saga of the Overly Complex Movie Poster that’s Taking Up all of the Author’s Writing Time.”

Or: “Shisui Uchiha and the One-off Story that Accidentally Turned Into a Trilogy, much to the Author’s Total Lack of Surprise.”

So anyway, I have 30,000 words (3/9 chapters of the first part) so far and as usual, no timeline for completing this story. But I’m definitely in too deep to back out now! My new approach to stories is to write the whole thing, then post week by week. So this one is still probably several months away at least...

But here’s a quick preview:

The list of things Shisui Uchiha regrets in his life is pretty small.

A handful of ill-considered one night stands, several embarrassing bets with members of his family, the summer he decided to turn emo, oh—and one particularly notable fuck-up early in his career that very nearly ended it prematurely. But, for the most part, it’s been smooth-sailing.

Sure, maybe the odd rival takes a pot shot at him here or there. Ancient booby traps try to kill him, or the local wildlife steps in where they’ve left off. He and spiders are categorically never going to get along. But he’s never had cause to regret his career itself. He loves everything about treasure hunting—the adventure, the danger, the intellectual challenge of it all. The way his heart races when he finds some ancient artifact supposedly lost for good.

So, all in all, his current position—perched twenty feet up a silk cotton tree in India, surrounded by about two-dozen armed thugs personally out for his blood—well, that’s just another day at the office.

Two of the men walk below Shisui’s hiding place and he holds his breath, watching. They’re thick-built meat-heads; improbable amalgams of every jackbooted thug to ever grace a movie screen, with jawlines Chuck Norris could break a fist on, and brows that would make a Neanderthal proud. Supressing the snicker that threatens to escape him at the thought, Shisui wonders where Gato keeps finding these idiots. Some sort of steroid-fuelled body building conference maybe…

Comfortable they’re far too stupid to realise he’s here, he swings his legs back and forward, checking his bag to make sure his prize is still undamaged. Thankfully, despite having beaten a hasty retreat through the crowded city streets, the jewel-encrusted golden elephant winks up at him like a winning lottery ticket. One that’s going to pay for fancy canapes, champagne and extra leg room on Shisui’s flight home. Then a lot more afterwards.

But karma, as they say, is a bitch.

And karma, for Shisui, makes itself known in the form of a fluffy grey creature that plops down onto the branch beside him, joined in short order by half a dozen other partners in crime. At first, the macaque just fixes its intelligent gaze on Shisui, as though assessing what to do with him. Then, one very pregnant pause later, after the apparent realisation that no food is immediately forthcoming, the ringleader opens its mouth and screams. Loudly.

Shit.

“No, shhh…” Shisui orders in a loud whisper. “Oh come on, don’t be an asshole.”

The screaming continues, soon swelling to a cacophony as the others join in.

“Shoo!” he pleads, waving his arms around to try and scare them off. “I’ll buy you bag of bananas or something when I get down from here, just please shut up…”

But the little bastards don’t stop and, if anything, Shisui’s heated objection only seems to be pissing them off more. Which is fantastic, because truly the last thing he needs today is to catch rabies or—

From the bottom of the tree, someone clears their throat. “Ahem.”

Or that.

It’s smug, officious, and quite frankly, about the last voice Shisui wants to hear right now. Every part of him sinks. On reflection, maybe it was a bit arrogant to think he wouldn’t have been followed to the temple. To think he was just going to walk in, pilfer a several-centuries old treasure, and walk out again, a comfortable five-figure sum the richer for it.

But then, it wouldn’t be the first time.

Sighing, he looks down to see his least-favourite human approximation of a turd. “Gato.”

“Well, well, if it isn’t my favourite globe-trotting Uchiha. Fancy seeing you here,” Gato says, appearing inordinately pleased. His trademark sunglasses sit awkwardly atop his bulbous nose, straddling a pencil moustache that looks like a worm met its unfortunate end on his face some years ago, and he never bothered to wipe it off.

For reasons he can’t currently articulate, it annoys the shit out of Shisui. Possibly because if there’s anything he hates more than someone getting the better of him, it’s someone who’s as much of a fucking waste of space as Gato getting the better of him.

“Yeah well, you know how it is,” he says, glancing around for a quick exit. “Ancient treasures to find, damsels in distress to rescue…”

But unfortunately, the crowd of highly armed men around Gato is growing by the second, and Shisui’s options are looking somewhat thin on the ground. At least, all the ones that don't end with him riddled in bullet holes. Damn macaques…

Gato grins. In the pre-monsoon heat, sweat rolls down his neck and spreads like an oily stain across his collar. “Oh, I’m well aware of how you operate... You’re a businessman, just like me. Always taking jobs for the highest bidder.” Before Shisui can open his mouth to disagree, Gato holds up a hand, adding, “I know, I know… you don’t see yourself that way. Moral code or whatever it is you like to call it. But in reality, the only difference between us is that you have the air of legitimacy that comes with an academic backing, whereas I’m willing to admit what I really want.”

“And what do you want, Gato?” Shisui asks flatly, already knowing the answer. The tired old game they’re playing here.

“That trinket you have in your bag.” Gato licks his lips, as though he can taste the champagne he’s going to be drinking once he returns the statue to whoever hired him, to disappear into some private collection, never to see the light of day again.

“What do I get in return?” Shisui asks, even though it’s obvious from Gato’s expression that he’s not going to like it, whatever it is.

A mirthless laugh assaults his ears. “I’ll let you live to cross paths with me another day.”

As offers go, it’s not very believable. But as much as Shisui hates to admit when his luck’s run out, even he can see the writing on the wall. Today really isn’t his day. Sure, he might trust Gato about as far as he could throw him, but even Gato isn’t stupid enough to shoot him on a main street, in broad daylight. Probably…

Retrieving the golden elephant from his bag, Shisui tosses it carefully down.

Turning the trinket over in his hands, Gato lets out a hum of appreciation. “Very nice. My client will be pleased.” He hands it off to one of his many thugs to box up, then peers back through the branches, looking more like a slug than Shisui would ever have thought possible. Reinforcing the impression, his lips twist with a slimy smile. “Well, as always, it’s been nice doing business with you Shisui. But I think, unfortunately, you’ve caused me trouble for the last time.”

Far too pleased for Shisui’s taste, Gato steps back, raising his hand in a gesture that looks awfully like it’s intended as a final farewell. Or a smug ‘fuck you.’ Either way, the message is perfectly clear.

Shisui rolls his eyes, mentally scratching off another predictable villainous turn on his treasure hunting bingo card. “All right,” he calls after Gato’s retreating back. “Nice doing business with you too! See you next time...” Under his breath he mutters, “Asshole…”

Truly, Gato doesn't have an original bone in his body. It's like he once read The Idiots Guide to Being a B-Grade Movie Villain, then internalised it on the spot to make up for a lack of anything remotely resembling a personality. But, pathetic imitation of a villain or not, his bullets are still effective.

The leaves around him shred beneath the pop, pop of gunfire as Shisui sucks in a rushed breath, bracing himself for what he’s about to do. The branch wobbles precariously beneath his feet as he races along it, pushing off into air that rushes past, disconcerting and empty. The slender gap to the building seems to widen to the span of a gaping abyss—

He hits the rail of the apartment with thud, clambering quickly over it to fall on his back on the balcony, winded, but mercifully unharmed. A macaque peers over the guttering at him, with a leering grin that clearly threatens more screaming.

“Don’t you start,” he warns, waggling a finger at it.

But there’s barely a moment to catch his breath before the sound of splintering wood below indicates another problem. Or an extension of the same one. Bounding to his feet, Shisui scoops up his hat, settles it back on his head, and checks over the railing. A bullet clips the plaster nearby—a pretty good indication that Gato’s men have every idea where he’s gone. That, combined with the way they’re currently pushing through the lower doors to the complex probably doesn’t mean anything good for him.

“Shit,” he announces to no one in particular. It’s times like these he really wishes he carried a gun…

Forcing his way into the mercifully empty apartment off the balcony, Shisui slips quickly through it. Cracking open the door on the far side, he checks the coast is clear. It is.

Of course, it doesn’t stay that way for long. Halfway along the open air corridor, there’s a cry of discovery from his pursuers, followed by more shooting. Seriously, why are the bad guys always bringing guns to Shisui’s knife fights?

Ducking, he runs faster, bursting into another apartment filled with hazy cigarette smoke and shocked faces before finally making it to an exterior stairwell on the far side. Looking at the next building over, it’s immediately apparent the gap is way too far for him to use the same trick he did before. But with Gato’s men advancing on him from below, maybe he can just make it to street level and bypass them altogether…

A thicket of power cables criss-crosses the span between the buildings, with one nearby running almost to the level of the shop awnings below. Sending a rash of silent prayers to whatever gods take care of Indian power line maintenance, Shisui detaches a length of rope from his belt and flings it over the wire, gripping each side like a makeshift zipline. Holding his breath, he pushes off into empty space. To his surprise and considerable delight, the line holds.

It sweeps him across the street, picking up more and more speed, until the side of the other building is rushing at him like—

Shit.

He impacts it with his shoulder, coming to an uncomfortable and jarring stop. Pain shoots down his arm and he lets go of the rope, crashing through a fabric awning and landing ungracefully in a huge stack of bagged flour. Dust floats down around him and Shisui groans, moving each of his limbs in turn. By some miracle, nothing seems broken. Not even his tantō in its leather holster at his back.

Oh well. Fall down seven times, stand up eight…

Apparently his exit was none too subtle though, because Gato’s men are leaning over the stairwell railing, yelling and pointing at the mess he’s made. Dragging himself to his feet, Shisui evades an angry store owner, brushes flour off of his clothes and resumes running for his life.

Never let anyone say archaeology is boring.

As he emerges back onto the main street, searching for quick and easy exit, the sound of screeching brakes and angry honking carries from the road. Cutting a wild path through traffic is an old open-top olive-drab Jeep with several gold charms dangling from its rear-view mirror. It jerks to a stop just before hitting Shisui, both side wheels riding up on the curb.

“Need a ride?” the female driver asks, grinning.

Her windswept hair hangs past the fashionable silk scarf tied at her neck. Unmanicured nails wrap around the slender metal of the steering wheel, like they couldn’t be more at home there. They’re a stark contrast with the cream suit linen she’s wearing, rolled up neatly to her elbows. Speckled with dirt, it looks like she’s probably travelled halfway across the country to be here, and been up to her elbows in the grease of the Jeep’s engine at some point to do it. She’s a walking contradiction—albeit one Shisui is delighted to see.

“Izumi!” he exclaims happily.

Eyes sparkling, she waves. “Hey.”

“I thought you were practicing on the course in Reno this weekend… What’re you doing here?”

A shot rings out, kicking up dust near one of the tyres. Glancing behind him, Izumi rolls her eyes, reaching across to throw open the door. “What am I always doing? Saving your ass, you idiot... Now get in before one of us gets shot, or I have to find out whether my rental insurance covers illegal firefight damage.”

#uchiha shisui #uchiha izumi #future shisuita #new story #my art #really having fun writing this one #I'm such a sucker for adventure movies #and snarky team banter #and this combines both #aaaaand we've just been thrown into another covid lockdown #so more writing time here I come!#Shisui Uchiha and the Lost Treasure of Asura

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danishmiilk · 4 years ago

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dedication - na jaemin

genre || crack, fluff

pairing || na jaemin x reader; mentioned one-sided markhyuck

fic type || drabble; short fic?

word count || 1.4k

au || hogwarts!au, best friends to lovers!au

summary || na jaemin dedicated his quidditch win to you for no obvious reason. at least, not until he asks you “do you trust me?” and well, do you?

note || when did writing 1.4k become a normal thing for me? i remember the early days of this blog *sob* 1k was so hard to churn out istg- but anyway its not even a fic it’s a drabble just imagine!! oh and im super sorry for the very very rushed plot and everything that doesn’t make sense i’m high. this was supposed to be a timestamp but it spiralled out of hand so ok

“aaaaand what’s that? slytherin seeker na jaemin’s pulling his firebolt down into a nosedive - could he have seen the snitch?” the boy beside you hollered into the megaphone. you slammed your gloveless hands onto the cold metal railing and leaned out of your seat to look at one of your best friends barrelling toward the ground like he was suicidal. you trusted him and knew he was a good enough flier not to crash, of course, but it still worried you to see seeker!jaemin in a vertical dive down to the ground. “ugh, no, he hasn’t gotten it. HEY, NA JAEMIN, YOU SUCK!” professor mcgonagall turned and shouted in hyuck’s ear, “LEE DONGHYUCK, YOU BEHAVE, OR I’LL GET MISS L/N TO REPLACE YOU!” “sorry, professor, just some kindhearted encouragement, you know, but sure! y/n can replace me!” your best friend grinned impishly and held the megaphone out to you, offering you the chance to commentate. you shook your head firmly. the one and only reason you were sitting in the commentator’s box with hyuck was because it could only fit two people and professor mcgonagall wasn’t about to sit there and control the scoreboard next to her least favourite student of all time. it could also be partly to prevent hyuck from cheating, you supposed, though you had no idea how anyone expected you to be the one stopping him. if anything, you’d have come up with the idea.

donghyuck had resumed commentating at the side, making snide comments every now and then. it was thirty minutes into the slytherin versus gryffindor game, and it showed no signs of stopping yet. the seekers were still circling above the pitch, gryffindor’s seeker zhong chenle (another one of your friends) trying his best to climb onto jaemin’s broom. you were pretty sure that was dangerous and against the rules, but whatever. “and slytherin chaser kim doyoung passes the quaffle to, well, another gryffindor, i mean slytherin chaser- what was his name? nokomota yuto? right, nakamoto yuta, sorry hyung- and yuta SHOOTS!”

your head snapped back toward the game, squinting at the gryffindor goalpost. “oh, he misses, wait no he doesn’t miss! keeper mark lee saved it, excellent save there mork! you know, mark is such an awesome person, if only he’d go out with me, i’ve been pining after him for the past three years but he still won’t say yes. ah well, he’s in denial, one day he’ll realise how much he loves m-” “HYUCK,” you screamed, shaking his arm madly, “LOOK AT JAEMIN. STOP GIVING US DETAILS OF YOUR LOVE LIFE AND FOCUS ON THE GAME.” professor mcgonagall had given up on him long ago, but you were, of course, compelled to at least get him to stop waxing lyrical about mark lee.

“huh? oh yeah- uhm- slytherin must win! ah yes jaemin’s diving again but honestly who cares he’s coming up without the snitch again, stop giving me false hope na jaemin. yes, anyway, what was i saying? right, the tea. so siStErS if you would look in the corner there gryffindor beater lee taeyong’s… beating the bludgers away from slytherin chaser kim doyoung? what is this i see, people! i am scandalized! doyoung, i see you blushing! yes, i can see you blushing because i charmed my glasses! you are fraternizing with the enemy! have babies later! play the game nOOOOOOOW! oh but he’s the one giving you protection. okay. EVERYBODY LET’S CHEER ON THEIR BLOSSOMING LOVE IN THE MIDDLE OF WINTER! SAY WOOOOOOOOO.” screams from the crowd. the hufflepuffs and ravenclaws had all come to watch the quidditch match - something only half of them would’ve turned up for if not for the commentary. which brings you to another point. it’s clear to everyone, you’d think, that lee donghyuck is the person most unsuited to be the commentator, like, ever. he doesn’t focus on the quidditch match at all, instead choosing to provide a detailed oral report on the latest gossip around campus. professor mcgonagall had tried to take him off the role before, of course, but she had no choice but to put him back on after 90% of the school signed a petition for “best commentator lee donghyuck” to return to the pitch. hyuck’s the dispatch of hogwarts, and he’s annoying, but he’s also funny, friendly, and sure as hell caught up on the latest tea. what’s not to like?

“right, so then i walked in to the girls’ bathroom, on accident i swear i’m not a pervert, and i saw irene and seulgi kissing in the corner and i was like what?? did not expect that. but i’d always kinda expected it because i can see couples in the future you know you can call me up anytime to predict your chances with your crush slight self promo but my rates are cheap af. where are seulrene? oh, there? i see your friends waving, congratulations guys, and oh wait jaemin has the snitch i think he’s holding something in his hand. oh. okay. 450-380 to slytherin, and slytherin win! tune in next quidditch match for another episode of Haechan’s Finest Tea Brewery!”

jaemin flew toward the commentator’s box, gesturing wildly with his hands. you stared at him, not comprehending, while hyuck chose to shout “HUH?? HUH??” repeatedly into the megaphone. jaemin rolled his eyes in annoyance that you could feel from a long distance away, pointed his wand at his throat and murmured sonorous.

“i’d like to dedicate this win to y/n l/n over here. speaking of which, she’s my motivation to win for every match,” jaemin went on with a shy smile. you felt your eyes widen and your earlier excitement for slytherin winning slipping off your face. what was he talking about? “i understand if you see me as just a friend, but i still think i’ve got to show the whole school i love you.” jaemin flew closer to the box, hovering at the side of it. “do you want to be my girlfriend? do you trust me? if the answer is yes, mount this broom with me.”

hyuck had apparently also been startled into silence, not having made any snarky remarks about the scene very obviously plagiarised from aladdin. you gasped softly, getting up to move closer to the railing, your body deciding for you instead of your mind. jaemin’s smile widened, “do you trust me?”

did you love na jaemin? up until ten minutes ago, you were sure you didn’t. he hadn’t even been a candidate for being your love interest romantically. you were taken aback by the confession, but you weren’t upset by it either. you felt slightly fuzzy inside, like you were a stuffed teddy bear, and even on a winter day as cold as it was, you felt warmth spread throughout your entire body. what did hyuck always say about love? he said that love means you’d do the best you could to make them happy. that love’s about giving, not about receiving. that you’d always put them before yourself, and you’d pay extra attention to them, always. and that you’d be ready to carry them off on a bed of roses and bear their children, but then again, you supposed that was just one of hyuck’s strange fantasies about mark. reflecting on all the years you’d been friends, you’d always been staring at jaemin to see if he laughed at a joke before you did too. you rushed to the hospital wing at 3am, not caring about the three months’ worth of detention you could potentially (and later did) get, only wanting to check on him and see that his injured leg was alright. you’d done everything reasonable (like let him copy your homework) and everything unreasonable (like stealing telescopes from the astronomy tower with hyuck to feed the giant squid) just to see a smile on his face. and that smile could warm the harshest winters.

maybe you were in love with na jaemin.

you walked up closer, and put your hand into his waiting one. the school, who’d been waiting with bated breath, exploded into cheers, but you heard none of it. there was only you and him. and the 30km drop to the ground.

jaemin’s grin looked like it was about to split his face into half. he pressed your cold hand to his lips, pretending to be a gentleman. pulling you onto his broom in front of him, he put his arms on both sides of you. un-amplifying his voice, he leaned forward, pressing himself into your back. “are you ready?” you nodded, fingers clutching tight onto the wood.

“i can show you the world.”

#na jaemin #jaemin #jaemin x reader #jaemin imagines #jaemin scenarios #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #na jaemin x reader scenarios #hogwarts!au #slytherin!jaemin #ft hyuck #side markhyuck #this was fun!!

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delaber · 4 years ago

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Rafael Casal x Reader

Pairing: Rafael Casal x Reader

Note: Thanks for the prompts! This was fun! Smut prompts can be found here. Feel free to send me more. Angst prompts can be found on my masterlist.

Words: 6.4K

Warnings: A bit of blood and a lot of smut (my buzzwords, apparently)

Tagging: @exrthangel @theatrenerd86 @lonelydance @ohsoverykeri @summerofsnowflakes @ramp-it-up @alexander-hamilhoe @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @riiyy @mysearchforgratification @janthony-stan

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. Rafa had truly done it this time. He had truly fucked up. Stepped in a pile of shit. Screwed the pooch. Whatever you wanted to call it. All because of a woman in his life who he had never truly appreciated before.

You.

He had always prided himself on his ability to stay cool, calm, and collected when it came to women, but suddenly you had shown up and it had changed everything. Well, he had known you since high school, so you hadn't suddenly shown up per se, but suddenly you had shown up almost naked! Gulp. He couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. He had always known that you were fine, but it had still taken him almost ten years to realise that you were indeed very, very, very fine!

You had been alluring all summer but for some reason, today was extra torturous: the skimpy little bathing suit tight against your body, how it hugged your tits so he could see your hard nipples through the wet fabric as you emerged from the pool. How it rested against the wonderful shape of your ass. Your skin all wet and slippery. How easy it'd be to just wrap his arms around you and carry you to one of the bedrooms in Diggs' new house. How he could easily make you moan his name repeatedly while he did wonders to your tight little body. Fuck.

Since the day he'd met you, Rafa had always found you insanely cute and funny so naturally he had turned up the charm whenever you were around. You had picked up on it quite fast, had challenged him, and within the first few weeks of your friendship, it had become a continuous game between you; who could flirt the most? Who could make the other person squirm in their own skin? It had always been in good fun and it had never lead to anything apart from whispered sentences late at night and sporadic drunk kisses in the dark. But never more. He had made sure of that.

Of course Rafa had spent some of his teenage years wondering what it would be like to delve into you - but seeing this side to you - seeing you all grown-up and sexy like this just hit differently. He had had a hard time all summer trying to stay as far away from you as possible to not fuck up. Not because he thought he couldn't convince you to spend the night with him, but because he wasn't really sure of the repercussions of sleeping with one of his best friends. At first, he had thought that he just needed to get it out of his system and he had experienced some wonderful sessions of self-relief while imagining you doing all kinds of stuff to him, but after almost three months of lonely nights with the image of your body glued to the back of his eyelids, he realised that he was indeed royally fucked.

From a distance, Rafa watched you neatly lie down your pool towel on a sun bed, in the process flashing your perfect shapes for him. He was well aware that he had been staring at you for quite some time now, but he was wearing his sunglasses and they had been known to conceal a wandering eye or two in the past so he felt safe looking at you from the other end of Diggs' yard. And concealment was of the utmost crucial importance because right now he absolutely could not look away from you: your well-shaped bottom was strutting in the air almost as if inviting him to touch it. He imagined you looking over you shoulder with heavy-hooded eyelids calling him over while touching yourself. He would walk over to you, yank your bathing suit aside, and spread your legs apart for him on the flimsy sun bed. He would delve into you from behind and caress your throat with his lips while you moaned with imminent pleasure. You would—

He suddenly realised how creepy he was being; luring at fine women from a distance?! Pull yourself together, Casal!

With a small shuffle, he tore his gaze away from you and poured himself the drink that he had been meaning to mix before you had stolen away his attention. Vodka Redbull. A horrible drink, really, but he needed the pick-me-up to get over last night's hangover. Sunglasses and advil weren't really doing the trick today.

"She's extra fine this summer isn't she?" Rafa heard his best friend comment beside him.

"Who?" Rafa said quietly as if he had no idea who Diggs was talking about.

Diggs shot Rafa an unimpressed look, "bro, I know you think you're subtle about it, but I've caught you slipping all summer."

Rafa knew his cover was blown. He had never been able to hide anything from his best friend. With a sigh, he mumbled "Has it really been that obvious?"

"I'm not sure if anybody else has noticed but I sure have," Diggs snickered, "you are so smitten!"

"Fuck off bro, I'm not smitten. I could've bagged her ages ago if I wanted to."

"So you wouldn't mind if I walked up to her and made a move?" Diggs arched an eyebrow.

"No," Rafa said, the lie thick in his throat, "- or of course I would mind. It would wound my prospects of ever getting to live out this dirty little fantasy I have in my head, wouldn't it?" he chuckled as he tried to save his obvious lie.

"Oh my, I don't think I've seen you this desperate since... well - ever," Diggs laughed, "and I know she's into you too. Has been for ages. Go turn up the charm for fuck's sake!"

Rafa shot his friend a sideways glance, "we've known her since forever."

"So?"

"A compelling counter-point," Rafa rolled his eyes with a small smirk, "you almost have me convinced."

"Shut up man," Diggs laughed before he continued, "I mean, you've never cared about awkward mornings before. Why do you suddenly care about it with her?"

"She's a good friend," Rafa said quietly.

"Okay, I know what you're thinking; that the absolute worst case scenario is that you guys will never talk to each other again - which, might I add, is highly unlikely!" he quickly added when he saw that Rafa was about to interject. Diggs continued, "you have the same group of friends. You see each other all the time. It simply won't happen. So in my opinion, the worst case scenario is not that you will never talk to each other again, it will in fact be a few months of awkwardness before things bounce back. Who cares? You haven't talked all summer because you're having a hard time keeping it in your pants. You can go on and have a few months of awkwardness afterwards too if it turns out to be weird between you."

"You really think that?" Rafa eyed his best friend for any sign of doubt.

"I'm sure of it," Diggs said resolutely, "you need to give it a shot before someone else comes along and snatches her before your eyes. I know you like her more than what you're telling me."

Rafa had to give it to Diggs; this time, he actually did make a compelling point. "Yeah alright," he groaned before he made a quick decision; he downed the horrible vodka Redbull, mixed two tequila sunrises - your favourite drink, he knew that - and walked over to you with as much swagger as he could muster.

He stopped in front of the tanning bed you were occupying, and immediately attracted your attention as he was shadowing the sun.

"Rafa?" you said and squinted up at him. You had to conceal a small gulp. He looked particularly dreamy today. "Hi..."

Rafa felt his throat run a bit dry, "Hey... I brought you a drink. Tequila sunrise."

"Yeah, uh, thanks..." you eyed him suspiciously as he handed you the tequila sunrise and when he didn't leave afterwards you added, "uhm - would you like to sit down?"

Rafa nodded eagerly and you moved your feet to the side to make room for him on the sun bed next to your body. He sat down close to your knees and had a large sip of his drink, hoping that it would cure some of the dryness he suddenly felt in his throat.

You eyed him intently. It was weird having him up close again. Especially because his absence and weird behaviour had been annoying you all summer. He had been acting totally out of character; he had been almost distant and cold as he had practically ignored you. "What can I do for you, Rafa?" you asked him with a hesitant smile, trying to sound calm. You couldn't reveal how frustrated his absence had made you. He couldn't know that you had been pining after him for years.

Rafa's mind went into overload; oh, what couldn't you do for him? He wanted to let you know that he was one word of approval away from throwing you over his shoulder so he could carry you to Diggs' bedroom. He wanted to do all the things that he had dreamt of for the last couple of months. He wanted you on your knees in front of him. He wanted to tangle his fingers in your hair while your mouth was wrapped around him. He wanted you to send him innocent looks while you let your tongue run over him.

He cleared his throat and shuffled around a bit trying to hide the fact that his slacks had grown a bit tighter. "Uh - I don't need you to do a thing," he said with a secretive smile, "how are you?"

"I'm good," you answered him slowly, still not really sure why he had suddenly approached you. "How about you?"

"I'm perfect," Rafa nodded, "Did you have an alright summer?"

You sent him a surprised smile. He was asking about your summer now? This friendliness he was suddenly portraying seemed to come out of nowhere. "An alright summer, yeah," you leaned back in the sun bed as you realised that you'd have to let Rafa's weird behaviour go. If he had finally worked out whatever had made him act strange since June, it was a good thing for the both of you. It meant that you could have your friend back. You could have your flirting back - and my god, how you had missed being on the receiving end of his excessive flirting!

"Glad to hear it," he smiled at you while running his fingers through his blonde hair.

"You've grown out your hair," you stated with a nod.

"Yeah," Rafa smiled and tugged on one of his long locks, "Diggs kept telling me that I looked 35 with the short hair and the beard, so I figured it'd be best to let it get a bit longer again."

"You look nice," you smiled at him, "I've always liked this hairstyle on you."

Rafa felt an eruption of colour in his chest when he heard your compliment. Relax, Casal, she's just flirting as usual. "Yeah, thanks," he said and looked at his feet to conceal the goofy smile that was slowly creeping onto his lips, "It's really great to see you. I feel like we haven't talked in forever," he muttered quietly.

You had already forgiven him for his weird behaviour but you were still determined to find out why you hadn't talked in forever. You let your gaze pierce through him, "I'm actually quite glad that you approached me," you eyed him. Now seemed just as good a time as any to bring it up, "I've been wanting to talk to you."

"Yeah?" He looked up at you with a twinkle in his eye, "About what?"

You looked around on the other sun beds. Maybe he wasn't too keen on discussing private matters in front of the rest of the gang. "It's a bit crowded out here," you said with a smile, "wanna go inside?"

Rafa nodded eagerly and stood up from the sun bed, pulling you to your feet. "Ladies first," he mumbled and let you walk a few feet in front of him.

"When did you become so gallant?" you laughed at him.

When I realised that you are, in fact, more than averagely well-turned, Rafa thought to himself. He had thought it through; walking a few feet behind you would allow him to look at your well-proportionate body parts swaying in the sunlight without fear of getting caught by you. He was mildly disgusted with himself but pushed the thought away before he followed you inside like an obedient pet, his eyes glued to your tanned legs.

You led Rafa to the secluded kitchen away from the pool area. Alone at last, you turned around and leaned up against the kitchen counter, looking at the handsome man in front of you.

He was having a hard time concentrating on your face as the shift in temperature from the sun outside to the air-conditioned kitchen had made your nipples rock hard. He could see them through the thin fabric of your red bathing suit, and all he wanted to do was to slip his hands under there and massage your tits with his warm hands. He wanted to pull down the straps to reveal your beautiful build to him. He wanted to take your breasts in his mouth and circle your nipples with his tongue until you were begging him to take you to a room with a bed.

"Are you alright?" you asked him when he seemed a little distant.

"Yeah, I'm good," Rafa smirked at the mental image of you on all four in front of him, "what's up?"

"I'm gonna be straight with you. I hope that's okay."

"Of course," Rafa gave himself a mental shake and promised himself that he would concentrate on your words and not your body. This seemed important to you.

"Have you been angry with me?" You looked at him with piercing eyes.

The question took Rafa aback, "What? Why would I have been angry with you?"

"No clue," you shrugged, "but you've been weirdly dismissive all summer and you've kept your distance to me, so I've been wondering if I've done something to upset you."

"No, everything's in perfect order. You've been perfectly fine," he said with a small smirk.

"So we're okay? You and me?"

"Of course," he nodded, "more than okay."

"Good, I'm glad to hear you say that."

There was a small awkward pause between you where neither of you knew what to do or say. Rafa tried desperately not to look at your round tits right in front of him, so he directed his attention to the wine cooler behind you in an attempt to look occupied. It gave him an idea however: "Hey, did Diggs ever give you a tour of the house?" he asked you, eyes glued to a bottle of nice champagne in the cooler.

"Not yet," you smiled, "he promised me one later."

"Yeah, same," Rafa mumbled, opened the cooler, and pulled out the champagne bottle, "how about we show ourselves around?" he said and wriggled his eyebrows, "sprinkle it up with a little champagne, you know?" he winked at you.

"Now who could say no to that?" you laughed and watched Rafa pop the champagne and pour you a glass.

"Cheers," Rafa held out his glass and you gladly clinked it.

He emptied his entire glass in one fast gulp, "this is some fancy shit," he said quietly while examining the bottle.

"Should we even be drinking this?"

Rafa directed his attention towards you with a small laugh, "well it's open now isn't it? I'm sure Diggs won't mind. Bottoms up before we continue our tour. I'll get you a refill."

You smiled to yourself; Rafa's nonchalant and cavalier attitude was exactly what had attracted you to him in the first place. You did as he said, gulped down the golden liquid, and was soon standing with another full glass in hand. "Where to first?" you asked after you'd had a sip of the second glass.

"Upstairs?" Rafa asked with a shrug, grabbing both his glass and the bottle with his left hand. He put his right hand on the small of your back, and directed you towards the staircase. He noticed a small smile creep onto your lips at the skin-against-skin contact. You were both back to your usual flirting and his plan was in action. Shake, rattle, and roll.

He let you climb the stairs in front of him and it didn't take him long before he was completely hypnotised by the swaying ass in front of him. The nice curve. The way the red fabric clung nicely to your buttocks every time you took a step forwards. The tantalising sway. And he couldn't even touch you. It was pure torture, he told himself as he gulped down his second glass of champagne while following you up the stairs. He clearly needed it.

"Refill?" he asked you as you'd reached the top.

"So soon?" you arched an eyebrow at him but emptied your glass, ready for your third refill.

"I'm thirsty," Rafa smirked and could already feel his hangover disappear as it was replaced with him getting tipsy. "Rules of champagne-tours are that you need to empty your glass before you enter a room."

"Okay, you're clearly more updated on the rules than I am so I believe you," you laughed at him and took a look around the first floor, "left or right?" you asked.

"Let's try left," Rafa said and followed you to a small room, "Wait! Before you enter you need to empty your glass."

"Again? Are you trying to get me drunk?" you arched an eyebrow at him.

"Hey, I don't make the rules," he sent you an innocent look before he emptied his third glass.

You sent him a suspicious look but ended up following suit and emptied your glass before you let him refill it a fourth time. You could feel yourself getting more and more tipsy. And Rafa looked cuter and cuter.

"After you," he said and opened the door to the small room in front of you.

"Okay, this is an office or something of the sort," you laughed after you'd entered, "this is boring."

"Very boring," Rafa groaned as he took in the desk, the computer, and the three filing cabinets standing along one of the walls. "Let's move along shall we?" he whipped around and hit his head against a cabinet on the wall with a loud bang.

He heard you gasp behind him before he felt the sharp pain on his cheekbone followed by something wet running down the side of his face. He turned around, facing you, the blood running steadily down his cheek.

"Are you okay?" you said in a concerned voice before it turned to laughter.

"Hey, why are you laughing?" Rafa chuckled at the sight of you as he touched the warm blood running down his face

"I'm so sorry!" you continued laughing, "but you should see the look on your face right now. You look so wronged!"

"It was an assassination attempt!" he smiled, "did you bring me in here to neutralise me?" he emptied his fourth glass of champagne to soothe the sharp pain.

"Yes," you said all seriously, "I work for the Israeli government and I've been sent to America to take out whiney boys who steal champagne from their best friends. And as revenge, I let them bleed."

"Would a Mossad agent such as yourself happen know how to clean a wound?" He asked with a playful smile, "because I think I might need a small band-aid. This shit will not stop bleeding."

"Lucky for you, I'm specialised in treating wounded animals in Siberia. Come," you took his hand and pulled him towards a bathroom you'd noticed as you'd passed it in the hallway.

Rafa liked being tugged around by you: your small hand in his felt absolutely right. He wondered what it would feel like with your fingers wrapped around his erection and he felt his cock do a small twitch in his boxers at the mental image of you rubbing him off. ...Okay he really needed to pull himself together.

Desperate to think of something else he looked around the bathroom. "Indoor hot tub!" he exclaimed as you let go of his hand and went to the small cabinet under the sink.

"Only eighties kids get this excited over a hot tub inside," you laughed at his excited kid-like face and pulled out a band aid and some rubbing alcohol, "sit down on the edge so I can clean the wound."

"Yes ma'am," Rafa said and looked at you as you concentrated on reading the instructions on the bottle of rubbing alcohol. You looked damned cute with your nose all scrunched up.

You found a cotton pad in the cabinet as well and sat down next to him, "okay," you looked him in the eye, "this is gonna sting but try to sit still."

"Okay," he said quietly and waited with anticipation for your hands to touch his skin - even if it was a place as non-sexy as the skin below his eye where he had cut himself by being embarrassing. He took whatever he could get.

You carefully draped the cotton pad across the cut he had on his cheekbone and felt yourself blush as he closed his eyes and hissed involuntarily. You wanted to rip his clothes off.

He felt your small fingers ghost over his skin as you cleaned the wound. He tried to fight it, but couldn't hold back the visible shiver that went through his body.

"Aw, Casal, am I giving you goosebumps?" you laughed softly as you cleaned his cheek.

"Yeah," he smiled goofily at you and felt the champagne talk some courage into him, "it's either the cold from the rubbing alcohol or your bathing suit. Not sure which."

"My bathing suit?" you laughed at him.

Rafa chuckled softly, "yeah, it's a nice colour," he mumbled, "this red looks amazing on you."

"So you're saying that the colour of my bathing suit is sending shivers down your spine?"

"Yeah..." he said in an obvious lie.

"The colour... and not the cut?" you asked looking into his eyes, wriggling your chest in front of him. You had always loved the rare times where you could make Rafa - the always calm and collected womaniser - uncomfortable. This seemed like one of those times.

"Uh - the - uh - the bathing suit isn't too shabby either," Rafa chuckled slightly as he let his eyes run over your wriggling chest. You would definitely be the death of him.

"You like my bathing suit?" you said quietly as you too felt the champagne rush to your head.

This time, Rafa didn't answer you but just nodded and gulped visibly. He looked as if he was having a hard time keeping his hands to himself and it was turning you the fuck on. For years, you had wanted Rafa to actually do something about his relentless flirting. "I have to admit; I bought it with you in mind," you sent him a small shrug as if it was nothing.

His smile grew wide, "yeah? Did you dress up like this just for me?"

"I wanted you to notice me," you said with a small smile.

"Well it worked," he said quietly and ran his eyes over your chest.

"Good," you chuckled and turned your face away from his. In the past, he had had several chances to act and he hadn't. It was stupid of you to believe that he wanted more than just a bit of casual flirting - even if it did feel like years of flirting had been leading to this moment.

Glad to have something that could divert your attention away from the very fuckable guy in front of you, you picked up the band aid that was lying in your lap, took it out of its packaging and carefully put in over the cut on Rafa's cheek bone. Your eyes were glued to the cut for a couple of seconds, allowing Rafa to gaze into your eyes.

It's now or never, he thought to himself and reacted before he could hold himself back; he reached out his hand and put it just below your chin, leaned forwards and planted a brief, soft kiss on your lips. You had kissed before but this one somehow felt different. His kisses had always been short and sweet - he had practically perfected pulling away from you before losing all control - but today was extra hard. He couldn't believe himself... Ten years of holding himself back and a fucking bathing suit had him feeling like a teenager again. Calm the fuck down, Casal.

"Thanks for taking care of me," he hummed against your lips and retracted his face from yours.

You let out a small whimper at the lack of contact but came to your senses soon enough. "A pleasure," you smiled up at him and slightly cleared your throat, "we should continue our tour."

Rafa nodded and emptied the rest of the champagne bottle in each of your glasses. He quickly poured it down his throat. "House rules," he shrugged when you sent him a bemused smile.

You followed suit, bottomed up and put down your glass next to the kitchen sink. You gave Rafa's arm a slight tug and urged him to follow you to the next room on the tour.

Rafa gladly - and slightly dizzy - followed you out of the bathroom and into the next room on the tour; Diggs' bedroom apparently. It seemed almost scripted.

"Master bedroom," you exclaimed when you saw the king sized bed in the middle of the room. You looked over at Rafa who was swaying a little, "are you okay?" you laughed.

"I'm a bit dizzy," Rafa joined in laughing, "not sure if it's the assassination attempt or the amount of champagne I've had."

"Probably a little bit of both," you smiled and put a hand on his arm to help him steady a little, "do you need to lie down for a minute?"

"Yeah, I think I better," he let out a small laugh and threw himself down on the bed.

You quickly followed suit, and positioned yourself on the bed next to him, "is the room spinning or is it just me?" you laughed.

"Oh it's definitely spinning," Rafa chuckled and reached out to touch your hand, "ah, much better," he said as he recalled the feeling in his abdomen when you had kissed only minutes earlier. He wanted to kiss you again. He couldn't hold himself back.

"I agree," you said softly and looked over at him, "how's your boo-boo?" you let out a small laugh.

"Still stings," he shot you a small smile and remembered Diggs words. He had to snatch you up before someone else did. What he did now seemed to be crucial to how your interactions would be shaped in the future. So he decided to just go for it, "you know... my mom used to kiss the pain away."

"You want me to kiss it off you?" You laughed.

"It might help," he said and brushed his fingers against your skin as his hand moved further up your arm.

"Are you trying to seduce me?" you laughed.

"Yeah, maybe," Rafa said and felt how the champagne made him daring and truthful, "you've been driving me insane all summer."

"I have?" you chuckled, slightly surprised, "is that why you've stayed away from me?"

"Yeah, I've been having a hard time keeping my hands to myself..." he chuckled innocently.

You decided to act on how cute you'd always found Rafa, leaned closer to him and repeated the short and sweet kiss you'd shared in the bathroom a couple of minutes earlier.

When you retracted your lips from his, Rafa moved his head forwards and continued the soft kiss, this time with a bit more power to it.

This was definitely new, you thought to yourself as you moved your lips in time with Rafa's.

He popped himself up on one elbow and kissed you so sensually that you physically felt the wetness between your legs. So his tongue could do more than spit out silvered words? Rafa had game! His soft tongue was slowly caressing yours while he let his hand run over your upper body. You felt the goosebumps emerge on your skin as he ran his fingers over your ribcage.

Rafa broke the kiss and sent you a smirk, "look who's sending who shivers now," he snickered.

"Shut up," you groaned and leaned forwards, softly recapturing his lips.

He hummed against you as you slowly moved your lips across his. His thumbs were brushing against the sensitive skin just below your boobs, but he didn't touch you anywhere that wasn't considered safe. He wanted you to approve of it before he delved into you.

You understood his careful actions and wriggled around a bit to get him to touch you properly.

"Are you sure?" he whispered against your lips, "you've had quite a bit to drink and I've been trying to seduce you."

"Just be happy it worked," you smiled against him, "I've been wanting this too..."

Rafa's smile grew wide, "really?" he laughed

"Yes. Now shut up and kiss me."

He inched his lips closer to yours and captured them once more. His tongue caressed yours slowly and sensually while his hand squeezed your thigh tightly. A small moan escaped your lips when your fingers tugged on his long strands of hair.

Rafa pulled you on top of him so you were straddling his waist.

You let out a small smirk when you felt his erection underneath you, "you're already hard."

"I've been hard all summer," he groaned as his lips found your throat, "you've been driving me insane in all your little sundresses. You have no idea how hard it's been to hold myself back."

"You don't have to hold yourself back with me," you whispered and looked into his green eyes while you moved your hips suggestively on top of him.

"From now on, I have no intentions of doing so," he groaned at the friction, his hands moving to the straps of your bathing suit. Slowly, he pulled them over your arms, making sure to kiss your clavicles in the meantime. He pulled down the red bathing suit and revealed your small round tits topped with small perky nipples for him. Exactly as he had imagined. He took one of your nipples in his mouth, while showing the other love by cupping your breast lovingly. You let out a sharp moan when you felt his tongue circle your areola.

Rafa's erection grew considerably and when you danced your fingers down his chest, and he decided to do something about it. He threw you down on the bed next to him and forcefully ripped off the bottom half of your bathing suit, leaving you completely naked on the bed. He took a step back and admired your finally naked body before him, your wet pussy glistening in the sunlight. He palmed himself through his slacks and let out a groan at the sight of you writhing on the bed, looking up at him with lust in your eyes. Your small hand was running along the length of your glistening slit and he had never been more jealous of a couple of fingers.

"Take of your clothes," you panted as you spread your legs apart.

Rafa quickly shuffled out of his shirt and slacks but kept his boxers on.

"Last chance to back out," he said as he leaned over you and trailed his hand down your body. You let out a small moan as his lips found yours, his fingers hovering above your waistline. "If you keep making those sounds I'm not going to be able to stop myself," he groaned in between kisses.

"Who says I want you to stop?" You let out yet another moan as his tongue found yours again.

"Good," he smirked against you. His fingers found your heated centre and you let out a raspy breath when his fingers dipped inside your sensitive folds. "Fuck you're so wet for me," he growled as he easily found your tight opening and pushed a couple of fingers inside you. You were moaning excessively and pushing yourself against his playful fingers as the was toying with you.

"Fuck, you look so good with my fingers inside you," he growled, "tell me how much you've wanted this!"

"So bad," you panted and looked up into his darkened eyes, "I've been wanting you to fuck me for years."

"Yeah?" He felt himself getting even more excited and he moved his fingers faster in an out if you, "have you been thinking about me when you're alone at night?"

"Yes," you whispered.

"Tell me about what you've been fantasising about."

You pushed his fingers out of you and sat up straight on the bed, sending him a lustful look. "I've been thinking about your big, heavy cock," you said as you pulled off his boxers, revealing his erection to you. You took him in your hand and ran your tongue over his wet head. Rafa shot back his head with a small groan, but kept the eye contact.

"What else?" He panted as he watched you pop his head in your mouth.

"This," you said, "my lips around you. Your fingers inside me."

"How can I deny you that?" He stroked your cheek, "lie down."

You did as he told and watched Rafa climb onto the bed on his knees. He positioned himself close to your face and ran his hand down your abdomen, his fingers easily finding their way to your pussy. You reached up and grabbed him by the root, positioning yourself so you could wrap your lips around him while his fingers worked their way inside you.

You bopped your mouth up and down his length a few times, releasing his head with a small pop before starting over.

"Oh fuck," he groaned as he bucked his hips closer to your face, "fuck you look amazing."

You let your tongue swirl around him while your hand pumped up and down him a few times. He shot back his head with a groan, "fuck I'm not going to last long," he panted.

You pulled your face away from him and said, "are you going to cum down my throat?" Before your lips resumed their positions around him.

"Yes," he panted, "are you going to take it all for me?"

You nodded and pulled him down your throat.

"Oh fuck," he panted and pushed his hair out of his eyes, "fuck you're working me like a pro."

You tightened your lips' grip around him and swirled your tongue around his head that had started leaking down your throat.

"Oh shit," he groaned and caressed the side of your face, "fuck you look so sexy with your lips around my cock. Fuck I'm so close!"

You pulled him as far down your throat as you could and reached up to cup his balls.

Rafa's breathing was hushed and shallow and he had his eyes closed. His fingers were still fidgeting with your clit but his movements were sporadic and lazy as he couldn't concentrate on much else apart from the tight wetness around him. With your tongue swirling around his head, your left hand cupping his balls, and your right hand working its way up and down his shaft, he gave out three loud grunts before he started shaking above you, warm cum shooting down your throat. He grunted a few times with his eyes closed before he came to his senses, pulled his fingers out of you and licked them only to have them resume their positions on your core.

"Oh god," you moaned as his fingers curled inside you, "oh fuck Rafa."

"Turn around for me," he whispered.

Quickly, you turned around and were sitting on all four in front of him.

"Ass up," he said and gave you a hard spank before he ran his hand over you.

With a pant, you buried your face in the mattress, "are you going to fuck me now?"

"I can't do that now," he groaned and positioned his face behind you, "it's your fault. You and your amazing lips," he said and caressed your ass with his hands for a couple of seconds, "say my name," he groaned as ran his tongue over you.

"Rafa!" You moaned when you felt his tongue.

"No. My name," he gave out a muffled demand.

"Rafael," you panted and he pushed his fingers inside you as a reward.

"Yeah, that's right," he said darkly and felt you tighten around his fingers, "fuck you're driving me insane. You're so good for me. Have you been wanting this for a long time?"

"Uh-huh," you panted in response.

"Show me," he panted before he started moving his tongue and fingers faster against you.

"Oh fuck! Rafa! Rafael!" You moaned loudly as you felt all your nerve-endings tightening between your legs. Rafa's tongue was moving sloppily over you as you cried out with your release, the grip around his fingers pulsating and tightening significantly.

Rafa was enjoying the sight before him - although a little disappointed that your tight gripping was wasted on something as boring as his fingers.

When you had panted and moaned out his name, he pulled his fingers out of you and let you plump down on the mattress.

You were still panting when you looked up at him with a huge grin, "why have we never done this before?"

"Because we're very stupid," Rafa chuckled and plumped down next to you, "that was amazing!"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Next time, I'm not letting you corrupt me to cum down your throat," he groaned and gave your breasts a kiss, "next time, I'm going to fuck you so hard."

"We're gonna do it again?" You arched a bemused eyebrow at him.

"Of course. Call me selfish but I don't ever want anyone else to touch you."

#rafael casal x reader #rafael casal #daveed diggs #blindspotting #rafael casal imagine #smut #smut prompts #rafael casal fanfiction #bay boys

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v-hope · 5 years ago

Text

»epilogue - yes

»hobi’s girl

»jung hoseok x army!reader

after attending a bts concert and very clearly catching one of the members’ attention, you can’t help but get flooded with hate comments once people find your twitter account. who would’ve thought that would be the reason jung hoseok would find his concert girl, too.

a/n: so that’s it! tysm to all of you who read this au, ilysm 🥺 in case it wasn’t obvious, this was like a smol view over the years for these two and their relationship. AND i know the texts bit doesn’t make much sense and that’s why i wrote what was supposed to be a drabble but ended up being a 2k story lsñsksj. i might upload it later in a one shot format since it’s as long as one of those and i want to have it organized in my masterlist lol. anyway, not so smol drabble right under the cut 👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻👇🏻

Not being able to hold back the quite prominent pout that had been threatening with forming in your lips all morning anymore, you followed your boyfriend hot on his heels, almost like a lost puppy, as he carried his bags all the way over from your shared bedroom to the living room and placed them on the sofa ever so carefully, not wanting to wake up your sound asleep kitten that was on the other end of it.

Giving you a side smile, one that did not really get to reach his eyes, for leaving you had never been an easy thing to do, he took a step towards you and gently cupped your face, planting a tender kiss to your forehead before he resumed on checking if he had indeed got everything he would need during tour.

Or well, at least he tried to, for you were quick to catch his attention, this time deliberately, since there was one particular thought in your head ever since last night —having to do with a certain comment of his on his Instagram account he had posted in reply to Taehyung’s very upfront ‘when’s the human baby coming’ question— that you could just not let go of for the sake of it. If anything, you knew that you needed to ask right now, before he left, or you would just have to suck it up and wait another six months to be able to do so.

“Hey, um…” you mumbled almost inaudibly, gently tugging at his sleeve and then for some reason feeling ever so little under his intrigued stare. “I know you’re kind of in a rush right now...” you smiled weakly, knowing you had little under fifteen minutes before he had to leave for half a year. “But, I, um... last night…”

“Tell me” he urged rather worriedly after seeing you were not able to finish your sentence.

“What you said last night… when you answered to Tae’s comment, you know… about getting engaged after tour...” you felt his body tense at your unexpected confrontation. “Is it true?”

Although suddenly nervous at the bit of information he had thought you would ignore since you hadn’t brought it up right when it happened, he smiled sweetly, taking a step towards you as he intertwined your fingers. “You know I’ve always wanted to marry you”.

“But now?” your words caused his heart to skip a beat. “I mean, the way you said it… I know you said after tour, but if you’re already thinking about it now…”

The small laugh that escaped his lips caught you by surprise, not really knowing what it meant. Tilting his head back for a second, he then let it fall on one of your shoulders — his hands letting go of yours to place them on your waist instead.

“Ah, don’t do this”.

“Do what?” your puzzled tone earned another laugh from him, one that came out more like a small huff. “Seok-ie…”

But he just shook his head, suddenly not knowing what to say. More like, not knowing if he should say what he wanted to right then at all..

“Baby…” you were the one to urge this time, gently tugging at the fabric of his hoodie.

And so, taking a deep breath, he decided to just go for it.

“I already have the ring” he confessed.

Not believing your ears, you pulled slightly away from him so you could search in his face for any kind of mean joke being displayed on it, only to be met by his sincere yet troubled eyes.

“And you’re making it really hard for me not to just go get it right now” he added.

You bit your bottom lip, having to lower your head for a brief moment as you tried to collect yourself before your now adoring eyes were back on his.

“I would say yes, you know?” you spoke softly. “If you asked me now…”

He let out a shaky breath, letting his forehead rest on yours. “Right before I go on tour?”

“Is that why you hadn’t asked me?” you wondered.

He nodded. “I mean, asking you to marry me only to leave you for half a year right after?” his lips turned into a sad pout, having you reach for his hands once again and give them a gentle squeeze. “Besides, my schedule was really tight these past couple of months and I didn’t get to prepare anything special t—”

His words were cut off by your lips softly pressing on his. Just like that, although only for a second, making him feel at ease.

“You really don’t have to prepare anything special, love” you smiled sweetly. “I’m not talking you into asking me now if that’s not what you want, but just know I would say yes no matter where or when you asked me”.

Your heart jumped at the sight of his lips curving slightly up at your honest words, feeling him be the one to give your hands a gentle squeeze this time.

“You wouldn’t hate me for asking you right before I leave?” he genuinely questioned, wanting to be a hundred percent sure about what you wanted before he did anything else. You shook your head no. “Even when I have nothing special prepared?”

“Come on,” you tilted your head to the side. “You really think I would ever hate my favourite person in the world?”

Always loving being called that by you, he chuckled under his breath, pressing a brief kiss to your mouth before his eyes went to the watch on his wrist and a bright smile parted his lips at the realisation of it still being a couple more minutes until the company picked him up to head towards the airport.

So, holding your hand in his, he pulled you towards your bedroom with him, letting go of you right as you crossed the door so he could go to the closet and rummage through his side of it for a couple of seconds while he looked for something. And then, when he turned around holding a small velvet box, you felt your heart skip a beat.

“I wasn’t joking when I said I already had the ring” he let you know with a breathy voice at the sight of your astonished eyes, causing a light laugh to escape your mouth. “I guess I should get down on one knee now, huh?”

Letting out another breathy laugh, you nodded your head, feeling your body hopelessly tremble as you could not hold in the overwhelming wave of emotions you were feeling at the sight of him kneeling down in front of you, later opening the delicate box in his hands to let you see the beautiful ring he had ever so thoroughly chosen for you.

“Okay, so… I don’t have a huge speech prepared for this right now, but…” you answered to his hesitation with a reassuring nod, letting him know it was alright, wanting him to go on. “I just… I knew since the beginning that I wanted to spend my life with you. I knew it way before our first anniversary, and now that we’ve been together for nearly five years and we’ve lived together for a little over one, I just know more than ever that I wouldn’t want to be with anyone else but you. I wouldn’t want anyone but you to wake up next to every morning, or anyone else but you to come home to, or even when we have our bad days and we argue over stupid things that at the moment seem so big,” a brittle laugh escaped both your mouths at the same time because of his comment. “There’s no one else I’d want to argue with. There’s no one else I’d want to raise our feline son with, or have our own human babies in the future”.

“You did not just call them human babies” you amusedly mocked him with a raised eyebrow.

“Shh, I’m proposing here” he playfully called you out, having you roll your eyes as you couldn’t conceal the smile already taking over your lips. “So, as I was saying. You truly are it for me, angel. I’ve said it a lot before and I’ll keep saying it as much as I can, but I love you so, so much, and there’s no one else I want to ever be with. So, if you’ll have me, will you marry me?”

Before he could even finish the question you had been anticipating, you had already been nodding your head with the brightest of smiles on your face, causing his heart-shaped one to make an appearance — only growing bigger when you confirmed: “Of course I’ll marry you, yes”.

Hoseok let out the air he didn’t know he had been holding, still being nervous as hell to ask such thing although you had made your answer pretty clear all along. And at that, you couldn’t help but giggle, watching the shaky hand of yours he was holding be adorned with the delicate ring he had just slid on your finger — planting a loving kiss to your knuckles before his eyes were back up on you.

You didn’t really have time to process what had just happened when he was back up on his feet, cupping your face to keep you in place as he rested his forehead on yours and his smiling lips brushed faintly over yours.

“I love you” he whispered those three words you could never grow tired of.

You smiled, placing your hands on his wrists and gently running your thumbs on his skin. “I love you, too”.

That was all it took for his mouth to be on yours, kissing you in such soft, tender way, it almost made it seem like he would break you if he kissed you any harder. However, when your hands travelled from his wrists to the back of his neck to wrap your arms around it, his hold on your face tightened, caressing the skin near the corners of your lips with his thumbs as he deepened the touch of his lips on yours.

He only ever let go of you a minute later, when the phone in his pocket started buzzing, bringing the two of you out of your own little world and back into the real one — one in which the car BigHit had sent for him and his members was already waiting for him outside, and one in which he had to leave your side for way longer than any of you would like to.

“How am I supposed to leave you now?” he mumbled, not being ready yet to fully let go of your touch, and just letting your heavy breathings mix instead as your lips remained faintly touching.

You smiled bittersweetly, cupping his face in your hands and planting another kiss to his pink lips. “Well, you know now more than ever that I’ll be here waiting for you”.

He laughed breathily, playfully pinching your sides. “I guess you really are stuck with me now, huh?”

“Technically,” you began, having him already rolling his eyes in anticipation before you could even make your point. “I am not until our wedding. But you know I would never leave you anyway, so you can take it as such”.

“I better marry you soon then” he smirked, managing to pull you even closer to him although there already wasn’t much space between your bodies.

“I would like that a lot, not gonna lie”.

Your nonchalant words that were followed by a shrug of your shoulders had him tilting his head back as a blissful laugh escaped his mouth — ignoring the phone buzzing once more in his pocket and going back to steal another kiss from you.

“We’re gonna celebrate properly when I get back, okay?” he said. “And we can start planning our wedding then”.

“Okay…” you smiled contently, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose before your eyes instinctively travelled down to his still buzzing mobile. “You should probably go now before they come here and literally drag your ass out”.

Hoseok laughed, reluctantly letting go of you and walking back over to the living room with you quietly following right after him, so he could grab his luggage and leave before they scolded him for taking too long.

“You think it’s too late to just shove you inside my luggage and bring you on tour with me?” he amusedly wondered as he threw his bag over his shoulder.

Shaking your head as you chuckled, you glanced over Huimang that was sleeping ever so carelessly next to another one of your fiancé’s bags. “I have a feline son to look after now, I can’t just leave him” you pouted.

“Right” he remembered, smiling softly when he stretched his hand to pet the fluffy cat of yours he had grown to love so much. “Forgot we’re responsible parents and all that now”.

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