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viceroywrites · 7 months ago

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reunions and opportunities - chapter ten

gary x fem!reader

both of you didn't get the ideal high school experience it would make sense that you both would be dreading the reunion.

little did you know how many doors would open after that.

ao3 version here - chapters on tumblr are slightly rewritten and restructured.

content warning: fic contains smut in later chapters. discussions of mental health including trauma and potential ptsd (aka gary is traumatized).

chapter ten

After a rather eventful evening, deep slumber hit Gary and you like a truck, both of you passing out shortly after a much needed cuddle session, forgetting to set your alarms for the busy days you had ahead.

You both awoke to the sound of the Game of Thrones theme song blaring from Gary’s phone, a ringtone he had set specifically for the Monarch. You tossed around for a bit before letting out a soft whine, lightly tapping the henchman’s broad shoulder, “Babe, your phone…” Groggily, the buff henchman fumbled around in the sheets, searching blindly before fishing it out from underneath the pillow.

“Hello?” He answered, his voice husky and deeper than usual.

“Morning, sleeping beauty. Do you know what time it is?” The Monarch’s dry, nasally tone replies back.

Gary blinks at his boss’ question, rubbing the sleep out of his heavy-lidded eyes as he pulls his phone away from his ear to check. His pupils quickly adjust to the light and widen at the sight of it being almost noon.

“Oh my god! Babe, wake up - you’re late!” The henchman sits up in bed, shaking your shoulders gently as you had almost fallen back asleep. You fumble for your own phone, gasping as you see the time and a series of texts from Sheila asking if you were okay. Instantly, you roll out of bed, rushing to the bathroom to get ready.

As the bathroom door shuts behind you, the Monarch stifles a chuckle, “Babe? Really?” Gary groans at his boss’ teasing, pulling on the jeans that he wore the previous evening. “Sorry, we can’t all be creative like you with your bajillion pet names for your wife.”

The light-hearted tone shifts as Malcolm mentions that his encounter with Red Death did not go as planned this morning. “Oh dude, it couldn’t have been that bad.” Gary mutters, anxiously glancing over his shoulder at the bathroom door as he hears the creak of your shower knob turning the flow of water off.

“I swear he could have killed me right on the spot just with his voice and stare, 21. Though can you believe he knows my work? I mean come on, this is the Red Death we’re talking about.” The Monarch remarks before cutting the conversation short, “Anyways, time to get to work, lover boy. Get your ass back here ASAP, we’re going to have to come up with a Plan B.”

Gary swallowed the lump in his throat, reality settling in that he’s back to his role as Kano. “R-Right.” You stepped out of the bathroom right on cue as the heavy conversation wrapped up, already dressed in your Guild uniform as you toweled off your damp hair.

“Put the phone on speaker, 21.” Gary’s eyebrow quirked at the Monarch’s command, obeying his leader’s wishes. Your head tilts in confusion and Gary can only respond with a confused shrug himself.

“Hey, [Your Name], take your time, I texted my wife that you two lovebirds slept in and according to her, all you missed was another stupid Guild meeting.” Both you and Gary blinked at each other in surprise at the Monarch’s kind gesture.

“Thank you!” You chimed in and the Monarch chuckled in response, “No, no, it’s the least I could do… thanks for finally popping my loser henchman’s cherry.”

The Monarch let out a cackle, a shit-eating grin spreading across his features as Gary’s protests echoed from the other line, barely picking up you hissing to Gary ‘How does he know?’ before he hangs up.

With caffeine in both of your systems, Gary and you reluctantly parted ways, leaving a soft kiss on his plump cheek as he opens the door of the black sleek car that pulls up to the Monarch residence for you before it whisks you away.

Before he can even ascend up the steps, Gary sees the Monarch, donning the civilian wear he wore for reconnaissance, standing at the door with a devilish grin.

“Enjoy your evening, Romeo?” Malcolm ribs his right-hand man, elbowing him playfully in the side as Gary walks through the door. The henchman groans, “Seriously, how did you even know?”

“Come on, 21, I know the sound of a man’s voice following a night of passion with his lover.” The red-haired villain chuckles, patting Gary’s broad chest, “Also the fact that you actually took my advice and wore something other than that blue plaid button up you’re always wearing told me you were planning to get laid.”

“Alright, alright, enough about my sex life. God, that’s so gross that my leader knows about my sex life. Hey, wait, how did you know I was a virgin?” Gary asked before pausing the moment the Monarch gave him a pointed look. “You’re right, self-explanatory.”

The pair descended down the stairs into the Blue Morpho cave to brainstorm Plan B but not before the Monarch almost slipped on the knife Gary had carelessly thrown to the ground the day prior after his fateful chase from you.

“What the fuck? Where the hell did this come from?” Malcolm cursed, picking up the object and examining it closely. “I don’t remember your Kano costume coming with knives. Looks almost like my wife’s.”

“Probably because it is hers. My girlfriend tried throwing it at my head yesterday as she was chasing me down.” Gary sighed as the gears in the Monarch’s head began to turn before clicking and grabbing the henchman’s shoulders.

“21, did she get a close look at you? Do you think she suspects you’re Kano?” The Monarch said in a serious tone, his expressive eyebrows furrowing into a glare. Gary quickly shakes his head, attempting to wriggle out of the grip his boss had on him.

“Oh god, no! I don’t think I would be standing here if she had any inkling. All she said at dinner is that she suspects that Blue Morpho is doing the killing or that he has “something” over Kano’s head to get him to kill.” Gary stammered as he reflected that the latter part of your claim had some truth to it.

The Monarch looked in his henchman’s eyes for any trace of doubt and as 21 stared back unwavering, he released his grip and let out a sigh. “Alright, stay on your toes, 21. I need you in tip-top shape so I can relinquish my wrath onto Dr. Venture once again.”

“Right… So Plan B, maybe a hostage situation with his daughter and wife?” Gary suggested.

The Monarch stared at him incredulously, “Are you kidding, the man would slaughter us in a second if we even laid a finger on his family?”

Gary hummed and tapped his lip as he thought of a solution, “Well, what if we don’t actually take them? Maybe tell them to go to a friend’s house or maybe the in-laws for the evening?”

After some thought, the Monarch grinned, beaming with almost pride at his henchman’s quick thinking, “21, you’re a genius.”

–

“You’re kidding, right?” You say in disbelief at the sight before you.

“I wish I was…” Sheila patted your shoulder, taking in the sight of Watch and Ward dressed as Hank and Dean, Phineas Phage as H.E.L.P.E.R and an OSI agent that you were unfamiliar with, Hunter Gathers, dressed as Dr. Venture.

“Oh, I have to get a photo of this to send to Gary, this is pure gold.” You chuckle in pure shock and amusement as you whip out your phone, snapping photos of Watch and Ward who try to shield themselves from your camera.

After you’re satisfied with the ridiculous amount of photos you’ve taken, you take a seat next to Dr. Mrs. the Monarch by the pool, tilting your head, “So where are the actual Ventures? I’ve heard so many stories here and there about them from Gary.”

“Well, Dr. Venture is at Quizboy’s house, and then I think Shoreleave, he’s an OSI agent, took the Venture boys out to show them where the real fun in the city is.. whatever that means.” Sheila says with a shrug, fishing out a pack of cigarettes from her coat. The raven-haired villainess curses under her breath as she realizes she forgot her lighter.

To her surprise, you fish out a pocket lighter from your coat, “You always step out for a smoke after our Meteor Majeure meetings when you’re stressed and look pissed if you forget your lighter in one of your other bags. Figured I’d carry one around.” You chuckle, lighting the cigarette that rests between her delicate fingers.

Taking a slow drag, Sheila blows the smoke in the opposite direction of you before giving you a gracious smile, “Thanks, sweetheart. I swear you’re one of the only reasons I’m still sane with all this crap going on,” gesturing with her cigarette towards the shenanigans unfolding before you.

You chuckle, watching Hunter Gathers admonish Watch and Ward for breaking character, “I know it stresses you out dealing with all these air-headed villains but I know you love your job on the Council. I can tell from how you command the room and get everyone in order. I’ve honestly learned so much about the Guild and henching from the short time I’ve spent with you.”

“Well, if you can command a horde of over a hundred men dressed as butterflies, you can command any room you walk into.” Sheila chuckles before her gaze drifts to you, “You have the potential to do the same, sweetheart. Have you given any thought on what you want to do with your future with the Guild?”

You suddenly find the loose thread on the outer lining of your jacket interesting, toying with the material as you muddle over the question that has been weighing on your mind recently, “Well, I know for sure I don’t want to go back to working with Wide Whale, I don’t know if I can go back to being just Sirena’s bodyguard and having to deal with those chauvinistic henchmen 24/7. They don’t even call me by my name half the time - just ‘girly’ or ‘lady’.”

Sheila gives your shoulder a sympathetic touch but before she can reply, Phantom Limb clears his throat behind you two, “While I’d hate to ruin such a tender moment between mentor and mentee, I’m afraid the council members need to meet to go over the plan for the evening, Councilwoman.”

The dark-haired villainess rises to her feet, helping you up with a reassuring squeeze on your hand, “We’ll talk later.” before following Phantom Limb inside.

–

Day quickly turned to night with the Monarch and 21 successfully executing phase one of their plan - just having come back from Red Death’s residence and changing out of the robes that Gary just so happened to have leftover from his DND campaign into their Blue Morpho and Kano costumes.

However, phase two had not gone as smoothly after Gary and the Monarch abruptly hung up the phone to their ransom call, following a Liam Neeson style threatening monologue from Red Death.

Breathing heavily in the claustrophobic pod, Gary contemplates how he ended up in this situation, only having genuinely feared for his life a handful of times in the many years of behind a henchman. As Red Death easily cuts through the pods with his scythe, the henchman immediately gets on his knees alongside his boss, begging for mercy and explaining the fake hostage situation.

What he did not expect in return was a pep-talk from the wise villain.

“But actually, how do you stay sane, knowing you killed people? Like doesn’t that consume you?” Gary questions as he offers Red Death a towel to wipe up the blood on his hands after killing and vaporizing the bodies of the villains he had locked up who decided to reenact the Saw Series in the basement bathroom.

“I’m assuming you’re asking more how to keep it separate - this,” Gesturing to the Blue Morpho cave, Red Death remarks, “and your personal life.”

“I mean I’m sure it’s easier for you, your wife isn’t involved in the Guild but my girlfriend is… and with me being Kano, our relationship is starting off on the wrong foot with me lying to her face every day.” Gary sighed, rubbing his sore shoulder after the Monarch gave him a few, albeit weak punches to the soldier over not telling him about the bathroom.

“Well, it’s a balancing act, young henchman. All I can say are two things - remember where 21 ends and Gary begins. They’re both you, similar to how my bloodlust is a part of me, but it’s not all of me.” Red Death hums, handing back the bloodied rag before patting the burly henchman on the shoulder, “And I’ve learned that the key to a happy marriage is honesty. Eventually, this Blue Morpho escapade will end, and you and the Monarch will both have to face your partners with the truth. You get to choose whether you want to do it now or later.”

“I do get to choose, don’t I?” Gary mused.

After Red Death leaves, Gary changes out of his Kano costume and spends the rest of the evening attempting to scrub off as much of the dried blood out of the porcelain tile as the Monarch requested, wanting to use the bathroom as soon as possible.

The henchman pulls his phone out of his jacket pocket, swiping through the texts that you had sent - Watch and Ward dressed as Hank and Dean, a selfie you took with Brock who appears to have begrudgingly agreed, and finally, an update text that you had made it home safely. His thick fingers type out the message, ‘Hey, can we talk about something tonight?’, hovering over the send button.

As he makes his way up the stairs, Gary freezes at the sight of the Monarch embracing his wife, who is fuming that she got ‘stood up’ by the Blue Morpho tonight. He sees the anxious look on his leader’s face as he has to lie to his wife, comforting her when he is the cause of her stress and frustration.

Gary ends up deleting the heavy text, heading up the stairs unnoticed. He instead types out, ‘Looks like someone had an eventful evening’, hitting the send button before flopping onto the mattress in his ‘room’, a currently unrenovated room in the Monarch residence.

Your response came in the form of a FaceTime call request, which Gary quickly answered, hoping to hear about your day as a way to distract himself. The moment your face pops into vision, his features soften, a smile breaking out as he admires your beauty through the tiny screen.

“Why hello, m’lady. Don’t you look cozy and quite ravishing I must say?” The henchman lays his compliment on thick, earning him a chuckle with a playful eye roll.

“Yeah because your DND dice shirt on me totally screams sex appeal.” You tease, pulling the neck of the shirt up to reveal your nighttime attire that you had stolen from him a few days prior.

“Well, you have this paladin wrapped around your finger.” Gary chuckles tiredly, raising his hand to rub his droopy eyes. The back of his hand comes into vision, flecks of red dotting across the back of his hand.

Your eyebrows raised at the sight in concern, “You didn’t fight at all today, right? Like no arches or any jobs you did to help the Monarch raise his EMA?”

“Yeah, why?” Gary questions, not realizing the traces of blood still on the back of his hand.

“I could’ve sworn you had blood on the back of your hand, Gare. I thought you were hurt,” You say softly, tilting your head as you wonder what it could be.

Gary’s eyes widen visibly as he glances at it before letting out a nervous chuckle, “O-Oh, that’s just red paint. Yeah, the Monarch wanted me to touch up some parts of his study and the house that Manolo missed.”

The henchman breaks into a cold sweat as he sees your perceptive eyes narrowing at his reaction but your gaze softens as you question why you even doubted him.

“Oh right, sorry… I just got worried for a second that you might have gotten hurt.” Your voice wavers slightly, biting down on your lap, “With the Blue Morpho still loose, it just makes me nervous about your well-being, especially considering that one time that the Blue Morpho slipped in and tranquilized both of our bosses.”

Gary relaxed slightly, almost forgetting that the Monarch pulled that stunt in order for them to arch the Doom Factory.

“Hey, if anything happened to me, I would tell you. Plus you’re more at risk than I am considering you’re out with Dr. Mrs. all the time,” Gary attempted to shift the conversation into a light-hearted beat, “Besides, look at me, I’m built like a tank compared to the Monarch and Dr. Mrs. It would take much more than a tiny tranquilizer dart to take me out.”

A sense of relief rushes through Gary as you grin at his joke, “What do you think would take you out then? Bear tranquilizer?”

Gary lets out a tired chuckle, reaching back to let down his ponytail as he feels sleep slowly approaching, “Mm, that’s probably Samson level. Speaking of which, isn’t he wicked cool?”

You nod, letting out a soft yawn as you reach over to turn off your overhead light, the dim, moody lighting of the fairy lights strung about your room still illuminating your features.

“Super cool, I’ll have to tell you about it tomorrow. Getting sleepy.” You hum, settling into your covers. “You should head to bed too.”

“Alright, I’ll let my m’lady get her beauty rest. Good night.” Gary sighed, reaching to turn off the light.

“Good night. See you tomorrow, m’lord.” You playfully blow the henchman a kiss which he cheesily catches and holds to his heart before you end the call.

As Gary lays in bed, he wonders to himself how much longer he can wait to tell you before sleep overtakes him.

#henchman 21 #venture bros #gary fischer #henchman 21 x reader #dr mrs the monarch #the monarch

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taomyou · 1 year ago

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The Romance of Reimbursements - Chapter 13

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Status: COMPLETED Summary: There’s a guy you see every Friday on bus 143, and you think he’s pretty hot. It wouldn’t hurt to tell your best friend about him, would it? or, you and Levi take the same bus home from work every Friday, and you fall in love slowly, clumsily, and with all the time in the world to fold as many paper stars as your heart desires. Word Count: 6.4k Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, modern au, office au, fluff, romance, meet-cute, matchmaking (A/N: this fic is entirely available on ao3 here if you would like to read it there instead!) Chapter Navigation Accompanying Playlist

even if it's all caffeine-free

“Is that it for me today?”

Mikasa lightly taps your shoulder to get your attention, and you have to blink a few times to take your eyes away from the freshly-finished paperwork in front of you. You look towards the voice and nod, making sure to politely smile.

“Yes, ma’am. Thank you for coming in, I’ll see you at your next appointment.”

The client nods before getting up, and you sigh once the door is closed behind her. You slump forward, resting your head on your hand and closing your eyes.

“She’s the last one for the day, right?” You ask. You hear the sound of your assistant flipping through some papers next to you before a few clicks from her pen.

“Should be, yeah.”

You rest your head on the desk, and you feel Mikasa gently rub your back to soothe you. The papers feel awkward against your arms, but you’re too tired to move them out of the way. You raise your head back up slightly to check the time on your phone: 4:35 PM.

Well, at least you finished your paperwork already so you’ll be out a bit early today. You can worry about your emails at home—if you stay to work on them, you’ll probably end up staying later than you think you will.

Geez, it’s only Monday and you already want to check out for the rest of the week.

Halfheartedly, you start packing up your things, and Mikasa does the same next to you. The both of you have been working nonstop all day, and there isn’t anything left in either of you to try and hold a conversation.

You wave to her and the rest of your coworkers on your way down to the lobby, and you walk over to the bus stop as quickly as you can. You hum to yourself as you wait for the bus to come, flipping through the items in your wallet to get your bus card.

You catch a glimpse of the business card for the glass booth you saw the previous Saturday at the expo, and you slide both that and your bus fare card out of your wallet.

You shift so that you can put your wallet away back into the side pocket of your briefcase before holding out the business card in front of you.

You never really had much intention of getting it in the first place. You were too awkward about not having bought anything, and taking the business card was the least you could do before walking away. You hadn’t had much chance alone with your thoughts since then, with Hange camping at your place on Sunday and with work today, so this is the first time you’ve been able to process everything.

Your heart warms at the recollection of that time spent together with Levi when it was just the two of you walking around at the expo. Looking at it now also reminds you of what Levi told you about his mother. Not that he’d really said anything at all, but it’s enough for you to think about now.

The meaning behind his words wasn’t lost on you: he wanted to tell you about it. To let you in on something profoundly personal.

It brings a small smile to your face—to know that he trusts you enough to be okay with sharing that with you.

You instinctively bring your arm up to cover your face, scared that someone walking by on the street will think you’re just smiling at nothing, but the familiar sound of the bus coming towards the stop forces you to bring your arm back down so you can get your fare card ready. You thank the bus driver once the card verifier beeps and your card gets charged, and you’re surprised to see Levi at the same seat you always see him in.

You’ve more or less gotten used to seeing him around so often. Not that his presence grew to be any less welcome than it was before your frequent run-ins, but it doesn't surprise you anymore and you imagine the same for him as well.

The world was already small enough to grant you his friendship by proxy of knowing Hange (and Erwin, to a lesser extent), so what was stopping it from granting you even more time together?

Of course you’re confused as to why he’s here, especially when you’ve never caught him before on a Monday ride, but that isn’t it.

No, you’re surprised because he’s slumped over, head on his backpack with his eyes closed.

You have to move so that the person behind you can go to find their own seat, and your feet bring you to your usual spot without much thought as to whether or not you’d be doing anyone any good by sitting next to your friend right now.

You’re careful to sit down without causing too much noise, your briefcase extended out away from your body so that the clinking of the metal buckles doesn’t ring too loud, but the bus starts up again before you’re fully seated.

You lose your balance and have to take a hand off your briefcase to put behind your head so it doesn’t directly hit the glass, but the thud still causes more than enough noise to wake Levi up.

You can hear him next to you, the rustling of the fabric from his jacket telling you that he’s shifting and now conscious of movement nearby. You shift your weight onto the side of your seat further from him so he can’t accidentally touch you as he stirs awake.

You see him stretch out his legs next to you, a small whine from him as he tries to get the sleep out of him. You wait a second before looking over at him cautiously to see that he’s now straightened up and looking back at you, his arms neatly resting on his backpack.

“Sorry I woke you up,” you whisper to him. You can barely hear yourself over the constant hum of the bus's engine, but he heard you. Probably.

“Hey,” he says. He pauses before turning away quickly to cover his face and sneeze. You say a quick “bless you” to him, and he sniffles before continuing. “I shouldn’t have fallen asleep anyway, so thanks for waking me up.”

He turns away to sneeze a second time, and you have to say another “bless you.”

You quickly reach into the front pocket of your briefcase to get a small pack of tissues, and you hand them over to Levi.

Tricks of the trade, you guess: carrying tissues around in case a client starts crying during their appointment.

He takes them with a nod and turns away again to wipe his nose. After some more sniffling, he takes another tissue from the pack to cover his hand as he unzips his backpack pocket to produce a small bottle of hand sanitizer. He offers some to you, and you awkwardly turn to hold your palms out to him so that he can squeeze some on. He does that before doing the same for himself and rubbing the sanitizer into his hands.

“Are you sick?” You ask.

“Of course not. I-” he pauses to turn away again, but this time the sneeze never comes. A shaky breath follows a few more sniffles.

You shake your head with a frown and shift in your seat so you can get a better look at his face. He avoids your gaze by looking past you and out the window, but you can still clearly see the red flush on his face.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“So if I check your temperature, you’ll be normal?”

He blinks a few times before nodding slowly. “Yeah.”

You don’t believe that, so you reach up to press the back of your hand to his forehead. You use your other hand to carefully hold up his bangs.

He freezes at the contact, but sure enough, he feels alarmingly hot.

“Well, you’re wrong,” you say, taking your hands away just as quickly as they were there. “Any idea how you got sick?”

He leans forward to rest his head on his backpack again, sniffling. “Nope.”

Your best guess is that the rain from Saturday gave him a cold and he’s just too stubborn to admit that.

“Is there anyone taking care of you at home?”

“I’m not a child, I don’t need someone to babysit me when I have a cold,” he says, turning away to sneeze again.

“Well, yeah, but you still should’ve stayed home. I’ve never seen you on a Monday bus before either, how come you’re here today?”

“I got out late. Lost track of time grading papers.”

You frown again. “Levi…”

“I have work to do, anyway. There’s no time to wait around to get better.”

“That’s just going to make it worse,” you scold gently.

You understand, though. Work isn’t something you can negotiate with in either fields you’re in, and you’ve learnt that the hard way in the last couple of months. You probably would’ve done the same thing he is right now.

But with Levi now constantly checking up on you and making sure you’re well taken care of, you can’t help but want the same for him too.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says.

“I want to.”

“Want to what?”

“Worry about you.”

Hearing the words actually come out of your mouth makes you freeze, and a small blush starts to bloom onto your face, matching the flush that Levi has from his cold.

God, it almost sounds like you’re confessing to him. That definitely was not the intention, but it’s not any easier on your heart that he doesn’t say anything in response to that.

You tip your head back, looking up at the ceiling of the bus. The lights are harsh on your eyes, so you have to blink a few times to get used to them.

You feel a bit of weight on your side, and you’re surprised to look over to see Levi leaning onto your shoulder. He straightens up after a second of contact, but you can’t help but smile at the idea that he’s seemingly taken to copying what you sometimes do when you’re sat together.

“Thank you,” he says under his breath. He goes back to putting his head on his backpack, and seeing how tired he looks prompts you to think about how you could help.

Which is why you start to think of having him stay over.

Realistically, it isn’t enough to just tell him to get some extra sleep or skip work. Furlan and Isabel are probably too busy with work and school to keep an eye out for him, so you don’t think it’d be a good idea to ask them for their help.

“Do you have anywhere else to be?” You ask.

“Today?”

“Yeah.”

“No.”

“Do you wanna come over?” The words come out awkward and they feel unfamiliar on your tongue, but you manage to not stutter when you ask. “You know, to get some rest before you have to go back to work.”

You tip your head back again so he can’t see the embarrassment seep into your features, but rest assured you already know you’re cherry red.

Why you’re embarrassed? You have no idea.

It isn’t anything new for you to have people over, nevermind friends, and he’s already been over once before, albeit in very quick passing. Maybe just the possibility of him rejecting your offer and thinking you’re a creep is what’s gnawing at you.

You hear him sneeze so you tell him another “bless you,” which he follows up with a quick “thank you” and a sniffle.

“My car is still parked outside the flower shop,” he huffs.

“Isabel said her parents owned the place, so you could probably get away with leaving it there for a day.”

There’s another pause (and some more sniffles) before he speaks again.

“I don’t mean to be an inconvenience,” he says.

You shake your head absentmindedly. “It’s not any trouble.”

It really wouldn’t be. It’s also just… the logical thing to offer. Your friend is sick, nobody else is available to look after him, and you’re already together.

There’s another pause before Levi speaks up again. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

You let yourself laugh, and you bring your head back to its neutral position so you can be the one to bump shoulders with him this time.

“We’re already sitting next to each other, so the damage is already done,” you joke. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, just thought I’d offer.”

You still do hope he takes you up on it. There’s no guarantee you’ll see him until the tail end of the week, so you’d just worry about him for that entire in-between span of time. Even if just for the early evening, if he was over, you could at least try and get him to actually rest.

“I have tons of tea at home, too,” you blurt out.

He turns to look at you with an amused look, something akin to a half-smile. Well, he never smiles so it isn’t even that, but he does look like he’s on the verge of a laugh.

“Really now?”

“Yeah, so you can have some if you come over.”

“You do know that I have just as much at my place, right?”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, I wonder where you get all that from.”

He goes to step on your toes, and you playfully yelp at the contact. “It really isn’t my fault you’re so insistent about paying me back for shit that doesn’t need to be paid back,” he accuses.

“As if you don’t do the exact same thing!”

He shakes his head, then cozies himself up into the top of his backpack before turning to look at you from that spot. “Okay, then.”

“Okay what?”

“I could go for some tea.”

“Even if it’s all caffeine-free?”

He rolls his eyes at you, but settles into his spot before looking out towards the window and at the scenery that passes you by.

“Even if it’s all caffeine-free.”

✰

When you reach your apartment unit, you let Levi inside first so that you can close the door after him.

When you step in and go to your living room’s couch to start getting it ready for Levi to rest on, he stays in the middle of the dining area where you left him to put his backpack down. You look back at him, and he looks like a deer caught in headlights.

“What’re you doing there?” You ask playfully.

He looks around, still unmoving. “Where do I go?”

You turn to point in the direction of the bathroom. “You can take a shower, if you’d like.”

Looking down at himself, he frowns. “I don’t have a change of clothes with me, and I’d rather not put all this on again after a shower.”

“I have some clothes you can borrow,” you offer.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, I have more than enough hoodies from when I was in grad school.”

He nods before heading in the direction you’re pointing to, and the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing tells you that he’s found where he’s needed to go. You head over to your bedroom to quickly grab an oversized sweatshirt and shorts to leave outside the bathroom door. As you’re leaning down to leave the clothes for him, however, you hear him cursing underneath the hum of the bathroom fan.

“Everything okay in there?” You can hear the sound of the water turning on and off a couple of times, but it doesn’t ever get switched up to the showerhead from what you can hear.

“How the fuck do you turn this thing on?” He barks, then follows with a loud sneeze.

You laugh, leaning onto the wall next to you to steady yourself.

“Why is every shower except mine so fucking hard to use?”

“Well, you’re not wrong about that, I still haven’t figured out how to use Hange’s,” you muse. “Need some help?”

“No, I got it.”

The faucet gets turned on again, and it seems like he’s got the hang of it when it sounds like the water’s finally come through the showerhead.

“Fuck!” He yelps. The running water makes it harder to hear him, so you put your ear against the door. “Why is it so cold?!”

“Turn the knob further right!”

“I’m supposed to get under the water again?!”

You laugh again. “Well, yeah!”

You hear some more cursing from him, probably working up to get the knob turned further under the cold water, and you hear a sigh when he presumably gets everything under control.

“I’m never coming back here again,” he huffs. The water’s no longer splashing directly onto the ceramic of your bathtub, so the sound of his voice is clear enough for you to hear away from the door.

“Just don’t get sick again, then.” No answer comes back to you, so you assume he’s fine enough on his own to shower. “I left some clothes for you by the door, yell for me if you need anything else.”

You shake your head with a smile before heading back to the living room to get some stuff for the couch. You figure that a blanket and a couple of pillows will do just fine, but you can always grab more from your room later if Levi asks. You stretch your arms above your head and yawn before heading over to the fridge to see if there’s anything in there worth making for dinner. Levi probably hasn’t eaten either, going by his mention of work, but you’re fine making dinner for two.

There’s some vegetables left from what you made in the past week, so you figure some rice porridge with that would be good. It’d be good for Levi, too, since it’d be easy to digest.

You take out what you need from the fridge before getting a pot going on the stove while you wash some rice grains, and you dump that in with some more water once that’s all cleaned up.

You hum to yourself as you get the vegetables prepped, careful to make sure not to knick your fingers as you’re chopping everything, and soon enough, you have a pot of rice porridge going. You go ahead and start boiling some water in another pot as well for some eggs.

When you turn away from the stovetop to get the eggs from the fridge, you see Levi staring back at you, clad in the clothes you left for him.

Huh, guess you didn’t hear the water shut off.

His own clothes are neatly hanging off his arm, and a towel is draped over his shoulders. His face is considerably redder from both his cold and the heat of the shower, and his hair is still wet and dripping water onto his clothes.

You’re glad that you aren’t holding anything in your hands when you see him, because you’re sure you would’ve dropped it.

You clear your throat as you turn away to shove your head in the fridge, both to get the eggs and to try to calm your blush down.

Ok, calm the fuck down. He’s your friend, for crying out loud. He’s just standing a few feet away from you in your clothes after taking a shower in your apartment. Nothing special.

“Does everything fit okay?” You manage to ask.

“Yeah, thanks for lending it to me. Didn’t know you went to Paradis, though.”

You have to take a few breaths to recollect yourself before you can reach for the eggs.

Lord, he has no business looking that good in just some sweats. You’ve already seen him in suits, why is this somehow even more embarrassing?

“Yeah, I went to the law school there,” you tell him.

He hums. “I went to Paradis for undergrad.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

You finally find it in yourself to pull away from the fridge, and you give the eggs a quick rinse before carefully getting them in the water. Levi heads over to his backpack to put his clothes down before coming up next to you to see what’s going on.

“You didn’t have to cook,” you hear him mumble.

“What, wanted me to starve too?” You reach forward to grab the ladle in the porridge, moving it around to see how it’s coming along. You make sure to get some water started in the kettle too so you can have tea later.

“I would've ordered something.”

“You’re the one always telling me not to waste money on Ubers, how is that any different from delivery?” You prod. “Besides, you’re sick, you shouldn't be eating out right now.”

“Sure, but cooking is more effort than just dropping you off.”

You wave him off, a shy smile on your face. “Think of it as me paying you back.”

Paying him back for what? Well... nothing, really.

You point up to the cupboard where you keep your tea. “You can pick something out from there.”

He moves over to where you point, and you continue with cooking. The sounds of stovetop flames, rustling tea packets, and sniffles from Levi fill the apartment with more than enough noise, and it’s enough to keep you both occupied until the kettle hisses. You tell Levi that he can turn it off and start the tea himself, and he does that silently as you continue stirring.

You go to the sink to get a bowl with some cold water to put the eggs into, but you pause there to watch as Levi works on the tea. He moves quickly, though he stops periodically to cover his nose when he sneezes. You tear yourself away when you remember that the eggs are still cooking, and you take those out carefully and drop them into the cold water you brought with you.

You turn to grab two spoons from a drawer, and you dip them both into the porridge before holding one out to Levi. He looks back at you quizzically but takes the utensil from you anyway.

“Am I supposed to try it?”

You nod. “Yeah.”

He puts the spoon into his mouth, and you do the same. You think it tastes fine, if not needing a bit more salt, but you care more about what Levi has to say.

“Does it taste okay?”

“Yeah, it’s good,” he mumbles, spoon still in his mouth. “I can start setting the table.”

You smile at him, turning back to the porridge to turn off the flame. “That’d be great.”

You direct him to where everything is, and he holds out the bowls to you while you ladle the porridge into them. You put whatever’s left of the porridge into a tupperware container for Levi to take home later, and you wash the dishes and other kitchen items while Levi’s next to you peeling the eggshells.

Soon enough, the both of you are sitting at your dining table with your own bowl of porridge and a teacup in front of you. The teapot and a bowl of soft-boiled eggs are in between you, as well as two small jars of dried onions and chili oil.

“Well, this is it,” you say.

Levi nods across from you, and you both awkwardly reach for what you want to add from the toppings in between you. Levi’s sniffling never ceases, so you excuse yourself to grab a box of tissues from your bedroom for him. He takes it from you gratefully, and you both start to make dents in your meals.

“How was work?” You ask him. You go to take a sip of your tea, and the warmth comforts you. It’s a bit less sweet than what you’d normally drink, but you’re too shy to reach across the table again for the honey. Levi somehow reads your mind and slides it to you, and you thank him before he answers your question.

“Fucking terrible,” he pauses to turn away and sneeze. “I couldn’t stop sneezing during lecture, and I had a headache for most of the day.”

You wince, opening the honey and tipping the jar to add some to your cup. “I’m sorry, that does sound terrible.”

“It’s fine, it’s over now. I don’t have any clients tomorrow, so I’ll only be doing paperwork and projects for the day.”

“Still, doesn’t sound like something anyone should have to deal with.”

He nods before taking another bite from his porridge. “And you? How was work?”

You bring your teacup up to take another sip before answering. “It was alright. Nothing special happened, just paperwork and other legal stuff today.”

“Sounds boring.”

You playfully roll your eyes. “It isn’t so bad, but yeah.”

You both get the feeling that the other is tired, so you both continue eating in silence. When you finish, Levi tries to force himself into your kitchen so he can wash the dishes, but you shoo him away and force him to go rest on the couch. He begrudgingly goes over there to do that, but not before he neatly stacks the tableware for you and drops it off at the counter space next to the sink.

You wash the dishes and get everything put away before going over to the couch. Levi’s just awkwardly sitting there on his phone, not bothering with the pillows or the folded up blanket next to him.

“You know, those are there so you can use them.”

“I don’t mean to overstay my welcome.”

You sigh before going over to sit on the armrest of the couch. “Just lie down for a while. You’ll never get better if you don’t get enough rest.”

“You’re a real hypocrite.”

You roll your eyes. “Guess that makes two of us.” You stretch your legs out before yawning. “I’m gonna take a shower, but you better be passed out by the time I’m back.”

“Why? So you can rob me?”

“Yeah, like I need your money. I’m a millionaire, remember?”

He rolls his eyes, and you excuse yourself again to head to your bedroom to grab a towel for yourself and something to change into. Come to think of it, you should’ve changed when you got home, but nothing you can do about it now.

You step into the shower and let the hot water fall over you, and you hum to yourself as you scrub your shampoo into your scalp.

You really do hope that he’ll be asleep by the time you come back to the living room, but there’s not really anything else you can do without being too forceful, and you aren’t about to test your luck with that. You’ll just drive him back over to Magnolia Floral Company so he can use his own car to get home, and you can be content just knowing that he, at the very least, had a hearty home-cooked meal and didn’t force himself to work in the last couple of hours.

You take your time getting your clothes on, and you sit on the edge of your bathtub while your hair dries, kicking your feet absentmindedly.

Yeah, you’re fine if he decides to just start heading home. You probably don’t even need to take him to the flower shop—Furlan can probably drive him to get it in the morning tomorrow anyway.

When you head to the couch after your shower, you fully expect that he’s going to be still sitting upright.

“If you wanted to go home now, I can drive you-”

Instead, when you turn into the living room, you see that he’s got his eyes closed, head propped up against his hand on the armrest. You quietly go up to him, careful this time to actually not wake him up, and you wave your hand in front of him to make sure he’s not pulling your leg.

Sure enough, he doesn’t open his eyes. You quietly go over to the kitchen to get another kettle of water going for some more tea, and you come back to the couch to carefully drape the blanket over him.

He doesn’t really react to the blanket itself, but he does shift to put his legs onto the couch to properly lay down. You gently hold up his head so you can place a pillow underneath it, but the feeling of you taking your hand away gets him to open his eyes. A blush creeps up onto your cheeks, and you can feel the quiet thumping of your heart in your ears.

You hold eye contact with him, too scared to look away, but after a few moments, he does the work for you when he closes his eyes and pulls the blanket up higher on his body.

You quickly turn away and press your palms to your cheeks, desperate to calm yourself down.

Goodness, you haven’t felt this way around him for months, why is this happening now?

“Astraea?”

You peek through your fingers at him, too shy to accidentally make eye contact with him again. “Yeah?”

“You think I could stay the night?” His voice is muffled by the blanket over his mouth, but you’re sure you still heard him clearly.

“Y–yeah, I’m okay with that.”

Your face burns even redder now, and your eyes dart all around the room to find something to ground yourself. The sound of the kettle whistling forces you to your feet to go and turn it off, so you run over to the kitchen to do that. You quietly curse under your breath as you press the button, hoping that it wasn’t loud enough to completely pull Levi out of his sleep, and you see from where you are that Levi’s starting to rub at his eyes.

You’re afraid that he’ll change his mind and get up to start getting changed back into his clothes, but he just yawns before turning onto his stomach and wrapping his arms around the pillow at his head.

What the fuck are you doing?

You let yourself slump forward onto the counter, silently screaming. Please, calm down.

Levi is just your friend—you have no other feelings for him, there’s no reason for you to be so frazzled about this situation.

Like you thought earlier, you’ve had plenty of people over before. Hange literally slept over two nights ago, and that didn’t faze you at all. It isn’t that he’s new or unfamiliar to you anymore; you’ve already spent enough time together for that not to be the case.

He just… is attractive.

Yeah, that’s it. And you're reminded of that right now because he's dressed so homely. Like he's right at home with you.

You’re just confused because you haven’t ever been around someone you’re that attracted to before in this kind of setting. This doesn’t mean anything. To say that it’s anything else would be a mean lie to both you and to him, so it isn’t worth it to worry about it.

These kinds of things pass, just like the seasons. You've felt this exact same way before already, and that feeling passed when you ignored it. This isn't any different.

You take a few breaths before pushing yourself up, and you relegate yourself to looking through your cupboard for a new tea to brew. The hibiscus tea Levi got you last Friday beckons you even though you hated it when you first tried it, so you take the tin out and set it on the counter.

As you pour the hot water from the kettle into your teapot, you glance back at Levi periodically to see how he’s doing. He isn’t sneezing anymore, which is a good enough sign. You grab a spoon to scoop some of the tea leaves into your teapot, and you bring that and a teacup with you to the dining table so you can get to answering the emails from work.

You also make sure to dim the lights in the living room so Levi doesn’t have to sleep under any harsh lighting.

You set a timer on your phone for five minutes before you quietly ease your laptop out of its sleeve in your briefcase, and soon, the clicking of the keys on your keyboard becomes the only noise in the apartment. You connect your earbuds in at some point to listen to some music, but the sound of your typing still can be heard over that.

Your phone vibrates, telling you that the five minutes have passed for the tea to finish steeping, so you turn off that timer and pour yourself a cup. You blow on the surface for a good couple of seconds to make sure you don’t accidentally burn your tongue, and you cautiously take a sip.

Huh. Maybe it was the fact that you were so stressed last week that you didn’t enjoy this tea, because right now, it tastes perfect. Warm, slightly sweet, floral.

You suppose you’ll have to apologize to him for such a lousy rating when he wakes up, then, but for now, all you can do is frequently break away from your work to steal glances at his peaceful form on your living room couch and smile fondly at him.

✰

When Levi wakes up the next morning, he doesn’t open his eyes first.

He stirs, pulling up his blanket to shield himself from the sunlight seeping in through the windows, and he stretches his body as best as he can, space permitting. Suddenly, the feeling of the blanket’s fabric feels unfamiliar, and his eyes open to see that he’s somewhere other than his own bedroom. He shifts to sit up on the couch, and he has to blink a few times to figure out where he is.

Fuck, he’s at your apartment.

He meant to go home yesterday after you got out of your shower, but he couldn’t fight the sleep off. Curse you and your house’s lack of caffeinated beverages.

He can’t even remember putting the blanket over himself, nevermind getting cozy enough to spend the entire night at your place. He gets up to fold the blanket and put it back on your couch, and he thinks to himself that you might’ve put it on him while he was sleeping.

He knows you’re the type to do something like that, especially after all your time spent together, but he doesn’t want to let his mind wander and think of something so intimate happening. The thought that you, freshly showered and ready for bed, would go as far as to make sure he got a good night’s sleep has his stomach in confused knots, and he has to take himself away from the couch entirely to pull himself out of the thought.

He fishes his phone out of the pocket of the shorts you gave him, and he checks the time: 9:27 AM. Yeah, no wonder you’re not here—you’re definitely at work already. He walks over to his backpack to get his things together before he leaves, but he sees a note on the dining table.

It’s in your handwriting, which is familiar to him now after having seen it scribbled across the two recipe pages you’ve sent him.

He picks it up, and he reads before slipping it into his wallet. He goes to the bathroom where there’s an unopened toothbrush, toothpaste, and floss set on the counter, and he rolls his eyes before he opens everything to start getting ready to head home.

He changes quickly, leaves your apartment after making sure that everything’s back in place, and catches the 143 just as it’s about to leave. He gets off two stops later, and he makes his way back over to his car to start heading home.

All the while, he wonders if he’s still dreaming.

When he gets home and through the door, Isabel’s eating breakfast at their dining table, and she’s just about ready to start heading out for school.

“Where were you last night? I thought you were sick.”

“None of your business, and I got better.”

He slips by her to put his backpack on the dining table and goes to the kitchen area to get some tea started for himself.

Isabel doesn’t really care what he does, but it definitely sets off alarms that he didn’t just make up a lie.

She shrugs to herself before taking another bite of her toast. “If you say so. Oh, and did you get that sticker I wanted?"

“The one that gets distributed on campus? Why do you even want it, it’s fucking hideous.”

“Well, do you have it?”

“Yeah, it’s in my wallet. You better not take any pictures of my credit cards.”

Isabel laughs, nearly choking on her toast. “No promises.”

She knows that he keeps his wallet in the front pocket of his backpack, so she slides his backpack closer to her so that she can get it. She flips through the various cards before finding what she’s looking for, but a small, folded-up note was stuck on one of the sticker’s edges, so it also falls out of his wallet when she takes the sticker out.

Curious, she looks up to see that Levi’s still waiting for the kettle to finish heating up the water, so she figures it’d be safe to open the paper to see what’s inside.

He wouldn’t keep anything that wasn’t important in his wallet, right?

Isabel can’t quite recognize the handwriting, but she knows she’s seen it somewhere before. Nevermind that, though, because she still reads it anyway.

Sorry, I have to get to work! You said you didn’t have any clients today, so I figured it’d be okay if I let you sleep in. I set out some stuff in the bathroom for you to use before you leave, and there's leftovers in the fridge you can take ^^ Don’t bother trying to pay me back on Friday because I will throw anything you try to give me out the window Also, I gave the hibiscus tea another try. I changed my mind—I think it's a 9/10 now Get well soon, Levi!! ^^

The note isn't signed off and Isabel’s too afraid to ask Levi any questions, so she's just going to pretend she didn't ever see this at all. Like he said, not her business, and she has more than enough to worry about as is; midterm season is brutal, and she has finals almost immediately after that. She also knows that Levi would kill her for snooping through his wallet, so she isn't going to even talk to Hange about this.

Still, as she folds the note back up slide back into his wallet, she can't help but wonder where she knows this handwriting from.

✰

Next Chapter

#attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #tao.levi #levi aot #levi ackerman #the romance of reimbursements #levi #fanfiction

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dyk3medown · 2 years ago

Note

Could you do a robin buckley smut where reader is anxious and super self conscious? and Robin is super gentle? (if you threw in some praise i would die)

first love, first time

robin buckley x reader

summary: you’re more than a little nervous about your first time with robin, but she

warnings: fem reader, smut, lil bit of a praise kink, basically the fluffiest smut ever, a mention of the fact that homophobia exists (but that’s it)

a/n: this is the softest, sappiest thing i’ve ever written. i’m sorry it took so long, i found this so much harder to write than the usually filthy type of smut that i usually put in my fics.

smut under the cut <3

4 months, 3 weeks, and 5 days. That’s how long it’s been since you and Robin got together, and you couldn’t be happier.

Robin never fails to make you feel loved, whether it’s planning an elaborate date or just bringing you some caffeine at school in the morning, dropping it off with a quick kiss before anyone can see. Despite the danger you could face if your relationship became public, no one makes you feel as safe and secure as Robin.

You’re only a teenager, but you think she might be the love of your life.

Although you always feel comfortable around her, there’s one thing you’ve been hesitant to do with Robin. In the months you’ve been together, you’ve yet to do anything more than kiss. Every time you get close to something new, you’re filled with anxiety, getting in your head too much to enjoy the moment.

Robin never pressures you to go any further or shows any signs of disappointment, but you can tell from the heated glances she gives you when she thinks you’re not looking that she wants to.

“Robin?” You sit down on the bed in front of her, trying your best to ignore the way your heart feels like it’s about to beat out of your chest. “I think I’m ready.”

Robin sits up, a fond smile on her face. “Ready for what?”

“Um. To, you know.” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, hoping you won’t have to spell it out for her.

“Oh.” Robin’s expression shifts as she realizes what you’re implying. “Oh.”

She takes your hands in hers, trying to assuage the discomfort you’re visibly feeling. “Are you sure?

“I’m sure.”

Robin leans forward, kissing you, and you melt into her arms, the tiniest whimper escaping you as she pulls you closer.

Robin backs up against the wall, and you straddle her lap, goosebumps rising on your skin as she runs her hands up your thighs.

Her hands move up further, dipping just under your shirt. You shiver at her touch, and you can feel her smile into the kiss.

“Can I take this off?” Robin pulls away to ask, tugging gently at the hem of your shirt. You hesitate, biting your lip. Sure she’s seen you topless before, but that was in a different context, you were just changing. What if she doesn’t like what she’s seeing now?

Before you can psych yourself out, you mutter a soft “yeah,” and Robin pulls the shirt over your head. With no bra on to serve as any type of cover, you feel exposed and bring your arms up to cover yourself, looking away nervously.

“Hey,” Robin gently pulls your arms down, your gaze snapping back to hers. “You’re absolutely gorgeous, angel, you don’t have to hide from me.”

She seems mesmerized as she trails her hands up your waist to cup your chest, squeezing gently for a moment before letting one hand drop back down. Robin maintains eye contact as she leans forward, wrapping her lips around a nipple and sucking lightly. You shudder as she flicks it with her tongue, moaning softly and pushing your chest forward into her mouth.

Robin turns to give your other breast the same treatment, her hand dipping into the waistband of your shorts ever so slightly.

“Can I touch you here, baby?” She pulls back to ask, scanning your face for any signs of discomfort.

You nod timidly, and she slowly slides her hand into your shorts, watching your face for your reaction.

You gasp softly as her fingertips brush your clit, traveling further to gather the wetness leaking out of you.

“Such a good girl,” Robin praises as she drags her fingers back up to your clit. “So wet for me, angel.”

You buck your hips into her hands, soft noises leaving your lips at the feeling of her touch. She attaches her lips to your neck, sucking a mark into your skin as she fingers you. It feels so good, but with her hand restricted by your clothes, it’s not enough.

“Robin,” you whine, clutching onto her shoulders.

“You want more, baby?” Robin knows what you want immediately, and your heart flutters in your chest as you practically whisper a yes.

She pulls her hand away and maneuvers you back so that you’re laying on the bed, Robin kneeling between your legs.

“Up,” she taps your hips and you oblige, lifting them so she can pull your shorts and underwear down.

“You okay?” Robin asks, and you timidly nod, letting your legs fall open.

“There you go, angel, you’re doing so well.” Robin’s voice is gentle and so full of affection that it makes your heart swell in your chest.

“Wanna see you too.”

Robin smiles softly at your request and tugs her own shirt over her head. She’s left with only a skimpy piece of fabric to cover her, having just been wearing an oversized t-shirt and underwear. She leans over you, and you tug her down for a kiss, tentatively reaching up to touch her chest. You try to replicate her actions from before and are rewarded with a shaky moan before Robin sits back.

“This is about you tonight, ok? Let me make you feel good.” She lays down on her stomach, and you squirm as she leaves a trail of kisses up your inner thigh, pausing when she reaches the top.

Robin, oh so gently, presses a kiss to your clit, watching your reaction when she follows that with a swipe of her tongue.

A soft moan escapes you as she moves down to prod at your entrance, humming appreciatively at the taste of you on her tongue.

You’re gripping the bedsheets so tightly you fear they might tear, trying your best to stay grounded as she licks back up to your clit.

Robin makes a noise and grabs one of your hands, moving it to rest on her head. You take the hint and move them both down to twine your fingers in her hair.

“Oh,” you half moan-half sob as Robin starts to lap at your clit more firmly. “Oh fuck, Robin.”

She slides a finger inside you, and you cry out, back arching off the bed. It’s simultaneously too much and not enough, her finger softly thrusting into you.

“Does that feel good, honey?” Robin asks, lifting her head up. She adds another finger, and you clench around them, crying out at the feeling. “You’re so gorgeous like this, angel, so perfect for me.”

You try to respond, but you’re not sure if you’re speaking coherently, your head spinning as her tongue presses firmly back against your clit.

Robin’s fingers start to gain speed, curling up to hit that special spot inside you with every pass. You babble unintelligibly as the pleasure overtakes you, quickly approaching your peak.

“Robin, ’m gonna-”

Your voice breaks as her tongue moves faster, urging you to cum for her.

You call out Robin’s name as it hits you, hips lifting into her mouth as you cum harder than you ever have in your life.

Robin works you through it, only stopping after you’ve come down from your high.

“You did so well, angel.” She rubs her hands soothingly up and down your thighs while you struggle to catch your breath.

Once you gain the strength to move, you sit up and reach for Robin, pushing her to lie on her back and straddling her. You kiss her fiercely and move a hand down to tease her over the thin fabric that you can feel is soaked through.

Robin’s hips buck up into your hand, and you break the kiss to watch her face as you pull her underwear to the side.

You hesitate, suddenly frozen in place as your nervousness returns. What if you do something wrong? What if she hates what you do to her and never wants to have sex with you again?

“You don’t need to do anything for me, ok?” Robin reassures you. “You don’t have to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“I want to! It’s just… what if I mess up?”

Robin shakes her head, smiling. “No matter what you do, it’ll be amazing, because it’s you.”

You take a deep breath and brush your thumb against her clit before tentatively applying pressure and making slow circles.

Spurred on by the way Robin gasps at your touch, you turn your wrist and push a finger inside of her, slowly moving it in and out.

“That’s it, angel, you’re making me feel so good.” Robin moans as you lower your mouth to her clit, pressing against it with your tongue tentatively.

Spurred on by her reaction, you start to grow more confident in your movements, slipping another finger in beside the first while you lick at her more firmly.

It doesn’t take long for Robin to get close, and the sounds she’s making are driving you crazy. You can’t believe you get to be with her like this, see her unravel beneath you because of you.

“Don’t stop,” Robin gasps out, looking down at you. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum.”

One more brush of your fingertips against her g-spot, and she’s done for, crying out your name as she cums.

In the afterglow, Robin looks much like your nickname, so angelic you’re surprised not to see a halo floating above her head.

She pulls you up beside her and wraps herself around you, kissing you softly.

“You were so perfect, baby.” Robin cups your cheek, stroking it lightly with her thumb.

“I love you,” you tell her without thinking. It’s your first time saying it out loud, and you start to panic before Robin’s face splits into a grin, her eyes shining with affection.

“I love you too, angel.”

taglist:

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#robin buckley smut #robin buckley x reader smut #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley imagine #stranger things smut #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader

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bonkie-barnes · 3 years ago

Text

Spoons

natasha romanoff x gn!reader

word count: 2.1k

warnings: chronic illness, mention of medicine, self deprecating thoughts

A/N: this is me 1000% projecting about my guilt that comes with my chronic illnesses. they're kicking my ass rn. this is a vent fic, but if you resonate with this at all, i hope you enjoy :)

- - -

Beep. Beep. Beep.

The alarm clock on Natasha’s bedside table has been going off for a full minute already. You merely roll over and cover your head with Natasha’s pillow. It smells like her.

You have absolutely no energy to get up, let alone reach across the bed to turn the alarm off. Your head feels heavy and your body aches something terrible.

The list of chores you have to do around the house today sits uncomfortably in the back of your mind. The list of friends who have texted you about making plans to hang out sits there too. The idea of staying in bed all day sounds more and more appealing by the second. You know this because the alarm is still blaring into the otherwise peaceful morning air.

Just as you’re gathering the strength to sit up and turn the alarm off, Natasha walks in. She looks at her watch and her brow furrows in confusion.

“What are you doing, sleepyhead?” she asks you with a little smirk. There is concern in her eyes, though she masks it well.

You’re both fully aware the alarm has been going off for seven minutes straight now.

“Just tired, love. You know how much work it takes to reach over,” you say in a joking manner, hopeful that you can get past this without worrying her too much.

Natasha eyes you suspiciously for a second before giving in.

“How was your workout?” you ask her sincerely.

As she starts rambling about her morning activities, you feel a sense of shame. You’ve barely managed to wake up in the time it’s taken her to complete a full workout routine. Hell, you couldn’t even find it in you to turn the alarm off.

You finally focus on her rant as it comes to an end. Natasha is looking at you expectantly. Shit. She’s asked you a question.

“Huh?” you grunt.

She chuckles before answering, “I asked if you were ever going to get up and get in the shower, stinky.”

You put on a fake smile but fail to meet her eyes, the shame eating you up. It has been a few days since your last shower, but it’s just so hard to find the strength and energy to get up and stand in one place for more than a minute or two.

If Natasha notices the far away look in your eyes and the grimace on your mouth, she doesn’t say anything.

After one of the quickest and most unproductive showers you’ve ever taken, you find Natasha waiting for you in the kitchen. She’s taken it upon herself to make breakfast for you both.

You kiss her cheek and thank her as you sit down at the table. The warm cup of coffee she sets down in front of you is a godsend. The warmth emitting from the cup helps to diminish the pain in your knuckles, if only slightly. You send up a silent prayer to whomever might be listening that the caffeine will help with the fatigue today instead of making you sick.

Natasha sits down in the chair next to you with her own plate. She runs her eyes over you in a scrutinizing manner. She wants to think you don’t notice, but you do.

Clearing your throat in hopes to take her focus off you, you ask about her plans for the day.

“Oh, you know, mostly just busy work. I have a ton of paperwork to get through,” she tells you through an exaggerated sigh. “What about you?”

The list of chores screams at you again. “Mostly just some things around the house. Grocery shopping, laundry, boring shit like that.”

Natasha hums around a sip of her coffee. It surprised you just how much cream and sugar she takes in hers. It’s just one of the many unpredictable things about her that made you fall in love.

“Super exciting. I hate to miss out,” she teases you.

You crack a smile to appease her. Inside, though, you realize just how little she understands. These errands seem so simple to her, when to you, they are the most daunting of tasks.

You’re brought out of your thoughts by Natasha standing up to take her plate to the sink. She comes back to kiss your cheek and let you know she’s going to go get ready, before walking out of the room.

You suspect the amount of housework you’ll get done today will be minimal, so you decide to at least make Natasha some lunch. Maybe it will lessen the disappointment she feels when she comes home to see everything exactly as it was when she left, you think.

Your plan is halted as you’re making her sandwich. The stupid cover on the peanut butter jar is stuck. You can’t open it for the life of you. The guilt comes in like a tidal wave. You can’t even do something as simple as make lunch for her, your brain supplies for you.

Natasha returns from getting ready to see you standing in the kitchen with a glare on your tired face.

“What’d the peanut butter do to you this time,” she jokes.

“I can’t.” Tears well up in your eyes.

She comes up to wrap you in a hug from behind. She softly asks, “What can’t you do?”

“I can’t open the jar,” you mutter softly, feeling overwhelmingly embarrassed.

“It’s okay, love. Let me help,” she tells you delicately before kissing the spot under your ear. She can tell this is affecting you more than usual and wishes for nothing more than to be able to take away your distress.

You mutter a thank you before continuing to make her sandwich. You pack everything into a bag and write a small note to finish it off. You know Natasha loves the little messages you leave her periodically, and nothing will stop you from trying to make her as happy as you can.

Goodbyes are said as you both wander closer to the door. Natasha makes sure to hold you longer and tighter than usual. You don’t comment on that.

The silence that encompasses the room as soon as the love of your life leaves is suffocating. You can feel the exhaustion from purely getting up and getting ready creeping up on you. Logically, you know that you shouldn’t overexert yourself, but the shame is eating you up. Already on a roll, might as well keep on going, you think to yourself.

You go back to your mental to-do list and debate what to start with. The grocery store doesn’t sound terrible. Some sun would do you some good. It’s been a few days since you’ve seen the world that exists outside of your house.

Wandering back to the bedroom to get your phone and shoes, you try to push the fatigue from your mind. In your attempt to block out the tiredness, you fail to recognize the ever-present pain in your joints increasing. It’s only when you sit down and bend over to put your shoes on that you register the feeling. Your hips ache severely; so much so, that you can’t hold your position long enough to get your shoe on your foot.

This seems to be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, seeing as you immediately burst into tears. The pain mixed with your inability to do basic, everyday activities completely overwhelms you as you break down.

There’s absolutely no chance that you’re going to complete this task, let alone all the other ones on your list. You let out a sigh as you stand up and shuffle to your room, phone and shoes forgotten in the living room.

You let the weight of your emotions crush you as you climb into bed and under the covers, your wife’s pillow clutched closely to your chest.

Your tears cease to stop, even as you succumb to the sleep you so desperately wished to hold onto this morning.

- - -

Natasha comes home to an eerily silent house. On any typical day, she would come home to the noise of your favorite show or music softly playing, whether it be from a speaker or from your guitar. Your shared house consistently was filled with life and sound. It was one of her favorite parts of her day; coming home to you in your own element, laughing or singing. You are her home.

This newfound silence has her exceptionally worried. Even on your bad days, there was at least a laugh track coming from the TV or the smell of hot chocolate coming from the kitchen. Now, there’s absolutely nothing. For a split second, Natasha thinks that you may never have come back from the grocery. Her heart rate spikes. The sight of your phone on the coffee table and your shoes strewn haphazardly on the floor puts those worries to rest.

“Darling?” she calls from the entryway. There is no response. She carefully removes her boots and coat before moving through every room in the house, calling out for you softly in each.

She makes her way to the bedroom, lightly knocking on the door as she lets herself in. She sees the rise and fall of your chest and is filled with a sense of relief she didn't know she needed.

"Love? Are you awake?"

You grumble out an answer that could be understood as a 'yes'.

Natasha carefully sits down on the side of the bed that you are facing.

"Can you tell me what's going on?" she requests softly, in fear of upsetting the quiet environment of the bedroom and making things worse.

The tears that started up again when you wife called out the first time get even heavier somehow.

"Oh love, come here."

She carefully gathers you in her arms and rests your head on her chest.

"Does this have anything to do with the peanut butter jar this morning?"

You nod. One of your favorite things about your wife is her ability to observe and understand what you're going through.

"I just can't do anything today. Everything hurts and I'm so, so tired," you whisper, followed by a heartbreaking sob.

"It's okay love. Please don't cry," Natasha whispers back.

"But it's not! It's not okay!" You sit up from her chest to let out your rant. "You've done so much today and I could barely wake up. You work so hard and I should be able to do stuff around the house so you can come home and not have to worry about anything," you finish with a sigh.

Your wife puts her hand under your chin, forcing you to look in her direction. "Love, look at me. Believe me when I say that I don't care about the state of the laundry or if the pantry has been stocked. All I care about is you. All I want is for you to be okay. It's killing me that you feel like this and I can't do anything to take it away from you. What I can do, though, is tell you just how proud I am of you. You are the strongest person I know, and I work with the Avengers."

You giggled at that. Natasha smiles at your small second of happiness.

"Are you sure? Because I was going to get so much done today and I was trying to-"

Natasha cuts you off with a soft kiss.

"My love. Listen to me. All I care about is your health and happiness. If staying in bed and catching up on sleep is what you needed today, then that's all I expect from you. I never want you to hurt yourself trying to do more than you can. We all have limits. It’s okay to need a break some days. I love you and I am so very, very proud of you."

With a long look into her eyes, all you find is love and adoration directed towards you. There's no disgust or disappointment as you had anticipated.

"I love you too," you utter quietly.

Natasha smiles and leaves a long kiss on your forehead. "What if we got some pain killers and some food in you? We can even put on your favorite movie. Does that sound good?"

You nod. Natasha gets up to get you some medicine and to order some food, while you get your favorite movie loaded on the TV.

Later that night, when both your stomachs are full and your wife is obnoxiously singing along to the songs in the movie just to make you laugh, you realize just how loved you are.

You don't know how tomorrow will treat you, or the day after that. What you do know, however, is that Natasha will always be there to support and love you. Your pain level and ability to function is always an uncertainty, but your wife's love will never be.

- - -

A/N: as always, i try to keep it gender neutral. if you find a mistake, please let me know! feedback is appreciated! to all my chronic illness buddies out there: i love you, you've got this :)

taglist: @007giu

#natasha romanoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff x gn!reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #my fic #natasha romanoff x reader

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haileygarciasunshine · 3 years ago

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You’ve Been Hacked

Pairing: Loki x Fem!Reader

Written: July 18th, 2021

Posted: July 18th, 2021

Warning: Swear, Kidnapping, Use of Chloroform, choking description, Noncon make out (Not Loki)

Word Count: 3,179

Author’s Note: I’m planning on making a Pt. 2! :) Not me writing a new fic when I have 125 drafts and like 5 WIP :) Feedback is welcome!!! Send it Here

Summary: Loki pushes away those who care about him in attempt to protect them. What happens when he pushes away the only avenger that is on his team in attempt to protect her?

Loki Masterlist

“How much longer until Jarvis, is ready to go?” Tony questioned as he placed a hand on the back of your chair.

“Huh?” You questioned before remembering what his question was. “Oh, it shouldn’t be much longer.” You shrugged without taking your eyes off the screen before you.

”Good.” Tony spoke. ”Is there a reason why Rock of Ages is in here?”

”Huh? Oh.” You spoke tilting your head to get a better look at the Asgardian God at the other end of the room. “I didn’t notice.”

“Uh huh.” Tony muttered quietly as he began towards the exit. “Come and see us in the Lab when you’re done.”

Nodding your head, you gave him a silent agreement. Once he was gone, Loki appeared beside you. Tilting your head, you gazed at the Raven haired man. He returned your smile allowing you to share an innocent moment. Somersaults formed again in your stomach. Your heart began beating rapidly the longer you observed your close proximity. Clearing your throat, you turned back to your computer screen. “I, uh.”

“What’s wrong, pet?” Loki questioned, his breath swirling around the shell of your ear. Closing your eyes, you allowed yourself to be in the moment. Shuddering, you clenched your hand into a fist in attempt at keeping yourself grounded.

Before either of you could respond, your computer let out a beep. Snapping your attention towards the computer, a thin layer of ice enveloped you. Upon the screen displayed the dreaded words you had been attempting to fight off.

’You’ve been hacked.’

Gasping, your jaw fell slack as you rushed to begin fighting off the cyberattack. Your heart raced as you felt a sheer layer of sweat beginning to form along your skin.

It wasn’t long before you had fended off the attack. Once you were sure that the Avengers cyber security was secure again, you turned back to where Loki was. Frowning, you scrunched your eyebrows together. Your heart felt into your stomach as you were met with an empty space.

Glancing down, there was a small note left in Loki’s seat. Grabbing the paper, you read it.

Meet me in my room.

Grinning to yourself, you left your desk stopping at a nearby coffee station to bring to Tony and Bruce, on your way through the compound.

“Finally decided to join us, I see.” Tony snarked as he glanced at you atop his computer monitor.

Giggling to yourself, you placed one of the two extra cups of coffee, you had walked into work with, upon his desk. “Good morning to you too, Tony.”

“I smell coffee-“ Cutting himself off, Bruce greeted you with a quick smile and hug. “I should’ve known it was you.” He chuckled softly. “Tony, never does anymore.” Raising the cup to his mouth, he gulped some down before he raised an eyebrow at Tony.

“Ouch, jolly green.” Tony smirked, knowing how Bruce felt about the nickname.

Sighing to himself, Bruce quickly moved, what felt like, as far away from Tony the lab would allow. However, a whispered ‘I hate you,’ that was directed at Tony, didn’t escape you. Snickering to yourself, you lifted your own cup to your lips before swallowing the now lukewarm caffeine.

“See you guys later.” You spoke turning on your heel making a hasty getaway not wanting to be roped into another buttering battle between the two science bros. “Try to get along today, shall we?”

“Don’t tell me what to do! You’re not Pepper!” Tony yelled before you left.

The corners of your lips lifted slightly in a smirk. Rolling your eyes, you shook your head as you continued making your way out of the lab.

Venturing through the compound, you were in search of one resident.

“Well, hello again, lady Y/N.” Thors booming voice echoed off the walls in the hallway.

Your lips promptly turned into a toothy grin as your best friends brother sped walked toward you.

Turning your head, you grinned up at the God. “Hey, Thor.”

“I presume you’re looking for my brother.” He spoke clasping his hands behind his back, matching his pace with yours.

Jokingly, you placed a hand over your heart as you gasped halting your movements. “Why Thor, how did you know that?” You teased raising an eyebrow. Placing your hands on your hips you giggled breaking character momentarily. “Did you look in my head?” Your tone resuming it’s previous tone.

Standing before you, he rolled his eyes as he shook his head slightly. “No wonder why you and Loki get along.” He sighed. Reaching up, he pinched the bridge of his nose.

Gasping, you stomped your foot. “How dare you!”

Your sudden shriek caused the shield agents in the hall to bring their attention towards you and Thor. Gazing around the hall, Thor groaned more audibly. “Okay, okay.” He spoke raising his hands in mock surrender, hushing you all the while. “As you were.” He spat at the rest of the agents.

Giggling, you batted your eyes at Thor, giving him your best innocent puppy dog eyes.

“He’s in his room.” He sighed as he rolled his eyes. “Go on now.”

Without waiting for Thor to continue speaking, you ventured towards the elevators before getting in and pressing the number for Loki’s floor.

Once the doors open, you practically skipped down the hallway. Your mind clouded with thoughts before you walked into something firm and strong. Wobbling slightly, arms gently gripped your biceps keeping you steady. “Easy there, petal.”

“Loki!” You exclaimed, feeling somersaults forming in your stomach. Your heart fluttering slightly, as his scent wafted in your nose.

His chuckle danced through your ears. “Hello, love.”

Throwing your arms around his shoulders, you gently tugged him downward allowing you more leverage to keep him tucked against you closely. Your eyes closing allowing you to savior the moment.

Loki stiffened at initial contact, however he quickly recovered wrapping his arms around your waist, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

It had taken you awhile, to get to where you were now with Loki. He wasn’t one for touch and everyone in the compound knew that. It wasn’t until you had formed a friendship with Loki, that he was more keen on the idea of being touched. Everyone was surprised at his sudden change in nature along with seeing the amount of times you shared casual touches. What took you by surprise, was the sudden daily increase of “casual,“ touches Loki shared with you.

Nuzzling your neck, Loki was quick to pull you out of your daydreams. Your opened your eyes, only to gasp at your different surroundings.

Opening and closing your mouth, you were slightly taken back at the sudden change.

“Loki-“

“Sorry, petal.“ Loki shrugged, as a grin danced along his lips. “I wanted you to myself.” Lifting his hand, he cradled your jaw allowing his thumb to trace along your face.

Raising your hand, you gently grasped Loki’s wrist. Gazing at him, you saw a flash of a frown. It was gone before you could question him. Closing your eyes, you turned your head slightly, you placed a feather light kiss upon the digit. Loki‘s gasp filled your ears. Your eyes flying open at the sound, as thoughts of how you might’ve crossed a line in your friendship took over.

Scrunching your eyebrows together, you opened and closed your lips while gazing at Loki. “I-“

Manuvering his hand, Loki’s thumb followed the plains of your lips. Tracing your top lip gently, before traveling to your bottom one. Lightly, he tugged at the appendage as his eyes were trained on your lips. Your eyes popped out slightly while your heart beat picked up. Your breaths becoming hitched in your throat.

Lifting his eyes back up to yours, he held a slight question neither of you bothered to ask. Somersaults forming in your stomach as Y/E/C ones locked with his icy ones.

“Petal-“

The sound of someone knocking jolted through you. Jumping away from Loki, you gasped as your mouth was suddenly drier than the dessert.

“I…I should…go.” Your cleared your throat. Nodding to yourself, you scurried towards the door. Yanking it open, Thor stood before you with his hand raised as he was about to knock again.

Gazing between you and his breath, a sly smirk made it’s way to his lips.

”Nothing happened.” You grumbled cutting him off as you left Loki’s room.

”Wait!” Loki raced to the door frame, leaning against it as he called after you.

Letting out a sigh, you rushed to the library. Once inside, you leaned against the door as you attempted to wrap your mind about what almost happened.

As the rest of the day flew by, you kept yourself busy in the library. Piles of read books littered a table you sat at all day. Sighing, you reached for another book you walked back towards the area you claimed. Lifting your eyes from the book in hand, you gasped.

“Hello, Petal.” Loki smiled, as he gazed at you. His eyes holding a softer emotion, you’ve become acustom to over the past few months.

Opening and closing your mouth, you frowned. It was the first time you had found yourself at a loss for words.

“H-Hi.”

Standing before Loki, you shifted from foot to foot. Heat danced along your cheeks.

”I think we should…Forget it.” He spoke, his shoes coming into your peripheral sight.

Furrowing your eyebrows together, you heat expand in your chest. Your eyes snapped up gazing at him, searching for a sign.

”What?” You whispered, your heart falling into your stomach. Tear began forming in your eyes. “W-Why would I want to do that?”

”Because...” His voice trailed off. “It was just a joke.”

Snapping your head up, you gazed at Loki. Searching for any hint of a lie. Before you could catch them, tears began cascading down your cheeks. As you gazed at him, Loki’s features flashed sorrow before quickly replacing it with a hardened expression. Clenching his jaw, he knew he had to uphold his persona.

”I..I..” Your mind was going a million miles a minute as you attempted to soak in what Loki confessed. Tears began dripping onto your hand calling you back.

”I trusted you.” Your voice coming out hoarse.

”That was your mistake.” Loki spat, glaring down at you.

Flinching at his sudden harshness, you couldn’t stop the sobs that passed through your lips.

”Fuck you.”

Tossing the book onto the table, you whirled around on your heels rushing out of the library. For the second time that day, you heard Loki call after you. And for the second time that day, you neglected to turn around and acknowledge him.

As you rushed out of the library, you hadn’t been paying attention to where you were going. Colliding with muscly wall, you hadn’t bothered to identify who you walked into. Wrapping your arms around their waist, you buried your face into their chest allowing their shirt to soak up your tears. Sobs continued to wreck through your body as you began to tremble.

”Woah, doll.” Bucky’s voice rang through your ears. His arms quickly wrapping around you protectively. Placing a hand on your upper back, he began rubbing the area. “It’s okay.”

Shaking your head, you continued crying not caring to use your voice.

”Do you want to talk about it?” He questioned gently.

Shaking your head again, Bucky nodded to himself.

“Come on doll, let’s get you to your room.”

Nodding your head in agreement, you didn’t budge. Letting out a chuckle, Bucky maneuvered himself which allowed him to pick you up bridal style. Burying your face in his neck, you allowed the slight say of being carried lull you to sleep.

Once he reached your room, Bucky placed you carefully on the bed before pulling blankets over you. Moving to leave, your hand grasped his wrist preventing him from leaving. Glancing over his shoulder at you, he let a smile tug his lips.

”Stay?” You questioned meekly.

Nodding his head, he crawled over you, and pulled the blankets over him. Once he was comfortable on his back, you rolled onto your side. Throwing a leg over his hips, you laid your head over his heart allowing the steady beating to lull you back to sleep. Placing a kiss to your hair, Bucky tracked patterns on your back.

After that night, you told yourself, you wouldn’t be the one to break. In your mind, you wanted Loki to suffer slightly like you had. As you went out of your way to avoid him, your heart slowly mended itself back together, allowing you to form a friendship with Bucky.

Walking back to your room, you toed off your shoes once you were inside. Letting out a content sigh, you shrugged off your jacket.

“Petal.” Loki’s unfamiliar voice rang through your ears.

Halting your movements, you froze gazing at the space in front of you. Once you collected yourself, you whirled around to face the God. “Don’t call me that.” You snarled.

Frowning, he nodded in understandment. His hands were clasped behind his back, aiding him in puffing out his chest. “You don’t get to tell me I was a joke to you, leave, and then try and come back into my life months after!”

Loki continued holding a stoic expression along his features. Heat rose in your cheeks as your chest began rapidly rising and falling.

“Get out.” You spat crossing your arms along your chest.

”Don’t-“

”No, get out.”

Nodding his head, he let out a sigh. Once he was out of the room, relief washed over you. Letting out a huff, you plopped down on your bed before laying down. Throwing your arms across your eyes, you let out a hefty sigh.

The next day, Tony had sent you out on a solo grocery shopping trip. Reluctantly, you agreed. You had wanted to get out of the compound in attempt to gather your thoughts, however you were skeptical as Tony usually had ulterior motives behind his actions.

Pulling into the parking lot, you leaned your head back against the leather head rest. Closing your eyes, you attempted to clam yourself.

Once you felt that you were ready, you exited the car. As you began walking away from the car, you shoved your hand into your purse in search of your phone.

”Excuse me, miss?” A male voice questioned closely.

”Yes?” You questioned turning to face him.

“Are you…Y/N Y/L/N?” He questioned attempting to offer you a comforting smile.

A sudden eery feeling overwhelmed you. Your heart began beating rapidly, as the hair on your arms along with the hair on the back of your neck, stood at attention.

Raising an eyebrow at him, you turned towards the man more. “Y-Yes-“

Barely finishing your sentence, a cloth was placed over your mouth and nose. Gasping, you scratched at the strangers arm. The other man yanked you backwards. Your back colliding with their chest. With widened eyes, you attempted to dig your heels into the cement in hopes of troubling the man who began dragging you. Your keys were long gone from your hands before the thought of using them crossed your mind.

Thrashing in the man’s arms, you felt yourself becoming weaker and weaker as consciousness was fading. Your grip on his wrist quickly loosening as you felt the word fade to black.

Jolting awake, you squinted your eyes as you adjusted to the shining light above you. Groaning, you lulled your head to the side as your body ached. Tugging at your hands, you were quick to realize they were bound as plastic dug into the skin around your wrists.

”Well, well, well.” One of the men from the grocery store parking lot spoke. Gazing up at him, you felt a flutter in your stomach. A sly smile made its way upon his lips. “Welcome back to the world of consciousness, Y/N.”

Grimacing at his words, you gazed around the room. Shivering, you realized you were in a dark and fridge place. As you were going to bite back at the man, you realized there was a cloth makeshift gag prying your mouth open slightly. Scrunching your eyebrows together, a soft whine left your lips as you tugged at your restrained hands.

”Don’t worry, sweetheart.” The man taunted, leaning in to place a hand upon the back of your chair. His nose tracing your jaw line before traveling down your neck. Inhaleing your scent, he chuckled. “You smell like Lavender. I can see why Loki likes you.”

Lifting his other hand, he twirled a strand of your hair around his finger. “Soft too.” He taunted.

Placing a kiss to your cheek, he chuckled darkly. Moving your head away from him, you squeezed your eyes shut. The hand that was twirling your hair, quickly clasped your throat that was directly under your jaw. Forcing you to look him, he began squeezing cutting your airway off. It wasn’t long before you began gasping for air. Attempting to shift in your chair, you continued gasping.

Once the man felt you had suffered long enough, he released you. The supply of air racing back into your lung forced you to cough.

Moving the cloth gag from your lips, he clasped his hand over your mouth. “If you bite me, you’ll live to regret it.” He spat.

Furrowing your eyebrows together, you were perplexed as to what he meant. Releasing his hand, his lips were quick to replace it. The man’s lips were harsh and unforgiving.

Clenching your eyes shut, you kissed the man back in fear of what the repercussions would be. He took your bottom lip between his teeth, giving it harsh bite. A whine escaped your lips as you flinched. Taking the chance, his tongue poked past your lips and traced over your tongue. The hand he choked you with, promptly reaching the back of your head, anchoring you firmly against him.

Another whine, sounded from you. His tongue traced the room of your mouth before wiggling around and tracing your teeth. Your air supply was quickly running out, as you felt your chest heave.

The man seemed to be on a mission to have the inside of your mouth committed to memory. His tongue tracing the underside of your tongue before returning to the top and sliding as far down as it could. Your teeth clashing slightly, as the feeling of his saliva dripping into your mouth overwhelmed you.

As the man pulled away from you, there was a line of saliva that connected you. Using the back of his hand, he wiped the access from his mouth. Panting, your chest rose and fell rapidly. Leaning back against the chair, you attempted to gather yourself.

”Did you get it?” The man questioned, his lust filled eyes not leaving you.

”Yep.” The second man stated, emerging from the shadows. A callous smile made its way to his lips.

”Good, send it to the Avengers compound.” The first man spoke. “Make sure it’s addressed to Loki.“

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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

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Put On A Show

Summary: Cha-young goes to her high school reunion and brings a certain mafia guest.

Author's note: I heard someone wanted a on top and in control CY so here it is! I already had this idea about a HS reunion so I simply combined the two ideas and got this smutty brainchild. This is rated E for extremely dirty so read at your own discretion, I planned on writing more fics of them pining but I really do love a women in control so I took a break from my cockblocking to fill this prompt. Hope you enjoy ;)

Dear class of 2005,

That time has come once again, our class reunion! This year's reunion will be held in the Phoenix Hall in honor of us all rising from the ashes of this pandemic and being reborn stronger than ever before! Tickets available for purchase below. There are separate tickets for food and drinks and this year's theme will be luxury: a life of decadence. We look forward to seeing you all.

Cha-young skims the email that had initially landed in her spam folder, only the name of her old high school attached in the subject line catches her attention enough to make her open the otherwise nondescript email.

Another high school reunion.

She had been evading these gatherings like the plague itself, ever since the last time she'd made the mistake of going to one. She had just landed her job at Wusang Firm and finally felt confident in herself, in high school she'd always been the loud one and the weird one but now she was a lawyer and a damn good one if she said could say so herself. Nobody could dismiss her now or jokingly remind her of the bowl cut she had sported before, she was always the butt of their jokes and she was tired of feeling small beneath their condescending thumb. She finally had something worth bragging about.

She'd stepped in with a smirk on her face, tight black dress and heels clicking as she walked waving at people she knew but didn't deign important enough to stop her entrance for a chat. The buffet table was her sole destination but she'd been intercepted by familiar annoying high pitched voices, Chang Ae-ram and Bom Min-he, the popular girls in her school and the banes of her existence both rushed over to her with drinks in their hands.

They never had anything kind to say to her and seemed to seek her out simply to put her down or remind her of how much of a “pathethic loser” she was in high school, as if she hadn’t been the one living her life.

The verbal sparring began almost immediately, with them all battling for lead in the "my life is going great" contest, coyly listing their accolades and accomplishment and assertively she told them both about her new job at one of Korea's most successful and well known law firm.

"Oh." Ae-ram answered with a tight smile that pulled her surgically enhanced face into a wrinkleless grin.

Score.

She sipped her drink feeling victorious as they both avoided her brazen eye contact. She had just opened her mouth to make her leave when a vindictive smile stretched over Min-he's face, "A job is so important but what about a family? Surely you don't plan on dying alone, how come you never bring anyone with you? We're all so sad that you don't have anyone still." She gripped the stem of her wine glass at the fake concern, suddenly the group was larger and everyone was congratulating Min-he on her engagement, the other woman waving the huge diamond on her finger in her face.

It was so vapid and stupid and she knew that it didn't make her any less of a woman that she didn't have a man but those words still burned. She had noticed that everyone was paired up and she was one of the only people who came alone, she'd been seeing someone before the reunion but at her mention of the gathering he had told her that "things were getting too serious for him" rolling out of her bed while tugging on his underwear and that had been the last she heard from him.

She'd spent the rest of the night on the outskirts avoiding her college mates and later stumbled out on her heels unsteady from the amount of liquor she'd consumed.

That had been her last reunion. She'd pointedly ignored all the invitations since then, the shame of that night still stinging all those years later. They only served as a reminder that she still had no one and regardless of how successful she was at her career she would be deemed undesirable by others.

It was such a fucking joke but she couldn't shake the insecurity despite knowing how false it was.

The sound of keys jingling near the front door knock her free from her reminiscing and she spins around to the sight of Vincenzo struggling to squeeze through the entrance with several bags in his arms, he never wants to make more than one trip- the overachiever. She nods her head in hello before trudging over to him without closing her laptop, greeting him easily with a peck on the lips freeing a few bags from his hands.

"Did you get my cookies?" She asks again despite the various text messages she had sent reminding him about her sweet treats, he rolls his eyes at her again swinging another bag into her waiting hands.

"Here. When I told you to text me necessities, cookies are not what I had in mind." He flicks her forehead lightly silencing her cry of pain with a follow-up kiss to the spot, she grumbles but stuffs the soft baked chocolate chip cookies into her mouth, cheeks puffing out like a chipmunk hoarding food for the winter.

Smooth as a well-oiled machine they put the groceries away, the sound of cabinets opening and closing the soundtrack for their movements. When everything is correctly put away, she makes her way back over to her laptop only then remembering what she'd been doing.

She stares at the screen contemplating her next move before she feels a familiar heavy weight on her shoulder, his breath is hot on her neck when he speaks, "What are you looking at?" He barely waits for her reply covering her hand on the sleek mouse, scrolling down to read the entire email. She waits anxiously in her seat as he reads the words out loud, obviously she had thought about him when she first received the email but her last experience had made her nervous about asking him to attend.

They hadn't been officially dating for long. They'd been too focused on taking down Babel and the aftermath had left them both with unanswered questions about the nature of their relationship.

Only this time when she asked him the same question she'd been asking since he crash landed into her life unexpectedly, after everything was over, he'd looked over at her and said in a small voice "Not if you want me to stay."

She'd been a coward and he had taken her silence as rejection and it had taken a dramatic and honestly cliché airport interruption, complete with her pushing past airport staff and screaming his name crying as they told her that the plane to Malta had already taken off.

She'd returned to her house with red rimmed eyes that widened into huge saucers at the sight of him in front of her house, large suitcase beside him.

Gasping she ran into his arms, as terrified as she'd felt that fateful night so long ago in the underpass.

"I couldn't go."

He tugged her closer, burrowing his face in her thick hair and breathing harshly his voice was raw and rough like he'd been crying too.

"Because of me?" She asked shock laden in her words and that's when he drew away to stare into her eyes and with a defeated nod he said, "Because of you."

The rest had been history. He came inside with her and he hadn't left since.

"Are you going?"

She stills at the inquiry, head dizzy from the memories racing through her mind.

"What?"

He places a finger on the computer screen, "This reunion. Are you going?"

She feels a small sting in her chest at his words, with a sad smile she starts to shake her head in decline but then he chuckles, "We should go. I'll be your arm candy." He teases wagging his eyebrows in her peripheral.

Oh.

"You want to come with me?" She repeats stunned by his casual offer, this seemed huge for some reason and she could feel her heart pounding erratically in her brittle chest.

He finally straightens up walking off to the kitchen grabbing a cup, pulling the fridge open.

"Yeah I mean unless you have another boyfriend you want to bring with you."

She laughs at his joke but internally her blood sings, she didn't want to get her hopes up but now she can barely contain her happiness.

She can always count him to have her back.

Slamming the laptop shut she circumvents the chair running over to him, he looks at her with a raised eyebrow prying the cup of water from his hands she pulls him down into a grateful kiss. He hums low when she slips her tongue into his lax mouth, this kiss vastly different from the peck she'd greeted him with at the door.

She can taste the caffeine on his tongue, the strong flavor of his favorite espresso swirling around her taste buds, pushing him firmer into the counter she laps at his mouth eager for a deeper exploration. He melts under her touch letting her manhandle him and move his head as she sees fit, his complete surrender makes her hot under the collar.

It's with reluctance that she pulls away from his addicting lips.

She smirks as he sways into her body as if intoxicated.

"Sorry. We have to go soon, it's game night."

It's a weekly tradition at the plaza, tonight they're playing Taboo, it had been announced in the group chat that Mr. Nam had forced them to join. It was chaotic with so many different voices there but it made her feel warm, like they were their own little family.

He groans disappointed but nods slowly, adjusting himself discretely but not enough for her vigilant eyes. She stares at the hardon visible through the thin material of his sweatpants.

"Let's go before you get me any more excited." He grumbles, picking up the snacks he'd purchased for tonight. She smiles triumphantly at his back still in disbelief that she has that kind of power over the great Corn Salad, Vincenzo Cassano.

Game night is a success, filled with laughter and playful arguing. They all work together in pairs and their team loses horribly with her accidentally shouting out all the taboo words every time it's her turn. Mi-Ri and Larry Kang- from the dance studio make a great team using dance moves and inside jokes to solve their words in seconds much to everyone’s shock, they both adamantly deny any change in their relationship at the groups subsequent teasing.

Nobody believes them.

Just like they hadn’t believed her and Vincenzo.

They get home at midnight and both collapse before they can finish what they started earlier in the kitchen, but cuddling is great too. He’s always the little spoon.

The reunion isn't a point of conversation again and she almost forgets about it completely until it's Saturday, the day of the event and she wakes up alone. It's not totally abnormal with him being a morning person but she still groans in annoyance at his disappearance. The bed is so cold without his body letting off heat like a human furnace.

The sun is high in the sky when she finally pulls herself out of bed much later, 12:45pm according to her phone and she sits up with a full body stretch, body popping and cracking.

"Vincenzo? Are you here?" She calls out to the empty house, receiving no reply.

With a sigh she goes to shower and brush her teeth, he should be back soon from wherever he went.

When she finally comes out of the bathroom, a cloud of steam following her she pauses at the package on the bed. A huge white box catches her eye, the gold silken bow striking across the large rectangle. Taking a closer step she runs a finger across the smooth material in wonder.

There's a note and immediately she recognizes the distinctive penmanship.

Open me.

Not needing to be told twice she tugs the bow watching it unraveling before lifting the top of the box, peering inside with glowing eyes.

She lets out a soft gasp at the sight of the piercing white material that is almost perfectly camouflaged in the matching box. She lifts it with awe, watching material unfurl until she can see it clearly. It's a dress made from expensive fabric based on the its luxurious feel in her hands and her eyes widen at the cape that hangs lower than the dress itself.

"He was listening to me."

She remembers her group chat with the ladies from the plaza, sending them different options for her reunion and letting them help to pick it her outfit. She wanted something that would garner attention but that still felt like her, and that's when she'd seen it. The new Alexander Wang collection, all white blazer dress with a cape and button details, it looked like luxury and she knew it had to be hers.

The ladies had all been in agreement sending her thumbs up emojis and demanding that she purchase the stunning dress. She'd quickly added it to her cart but much to her dismay as she'd been entering her card information, that dreaded message popped up at the top of her screen.

This item is no longer available. Sorry, try again.

Her heart had sunk and despite Miri's computer savvy and Yeon-Jin 's online shopping prowess they had not been able to locate the dress on any other site. It was sold out, everywhere.

Or so she thought.

Wordlessly she slips into the dress and surprisingly it fits like a glove, as if it was tailored just for her but that can't be.

"I'll zip that up for you."

She jumps at the dark voice behind her and then a chill runs up her spine at his fingertips on her bare back. He slides the thick curtain of her hair to the side to zip it up the rest of the way, their eyes meet in the full length mirror across the room.

"You look beautiful." He compliments easily, eyes caressing her body from her head down to her bare toes.

She feels like a goddess under his eyes.

"Where did you get this? It was sold out everywhere." She stares at him in wonder and he smiles at her gaping mouth, "I called in a favor. I knew a designer who owed me a favor." He shrugs as if it's nothing that he knows designers who are connected to the Alexander Wang, she's still not used to his influence.

Wait.

"Do you know Alexander Wang?" She shouts in surprise spinning to stare at him and his easy smile and open hand gesture is enough of an answer.

"I got your measurements from Mr.Tak. I wanted tonight to be perfect for you."

Her nerves have been shot all week, it's true that they haven't discussed the reunion at all but that doesn't mean it hasn't been on a mind even haunting her dreams.

She didn't want to be embarrassed again. She knew that she shouldn't let them get to her, she didn't have to prove herself to anyone but for once she just wanted to make them all eat those condescending words. She wanted to show them that she was the same weird girl from high school but she was even more now, also a successful woman and there was nothing wrong with being both sides of those coins.

Without her even saying one word he'd been able to detect how important this night was for her.

"Thank you." She breathes tears glistening on her eyes, he wraps both arms around her waist beaming at her in the mirror.

"Don't thank me yet you didn't even see the shoes yet."

Without waiting for her answer he steps away to lift a pair of sparkling shoes from the box, the red soles immediately notifying her of the exorbitant brand.

She gapes at the shoes and then a smirking Vincenzo and then back at the shoes, "Are you crazy? Are those Louboutin's?" She asks the obvious question turning the shoes over to stare at the vibrant scarlet soles. A certain Bronxite’s voice blaring in her head about blood shoes.

"They did say the theme was luxury. I thought these were just right for you." Squealing like a kid in candy store she sits down on the bed with both shoes in hand, but before she can slip them on he's lowering himself to his knees. The sight is enough to stop her in her tracks, her traitorous imagination running wild at the implications and possibilities. When he takes the shoes from her loose grip she merely watches as he slides the shoes onto her feet, just like the dress they too fit perfectly.

"I feel like Cinderella." She chuckles trying to break the tension and the swell in her chest but his bright smile only makes her chest constrict tighter, she doesn't know if she'll survive tonight.

"Hong Cha-young!" She freezes at the sound of Ae-ram's squealing voice only pausing for a moment before turning with a tense smile.

Here we go.

The woman is flagged by her usual posse and parrots, who are always ready to echo her biting remarks and she gulps down her dirty martini needing some liquid courage.

As if sensing her unease instantly Vincenzo takes the hand that was artistically placed in the pocket of his fitting white dress pants and curls it around her waist, grounding her with the simple touch. She turns to him and he greets her with a calming smile that she can't help but return.

I've got your back. He says with only a slight lift of his lips.

She takes a deep breath.

Ae-ram's smile dims as she gets closer to them, her eyes honed on the hand on her hip and she leans fully into the warm body pressed against her side.

Min-he speaks first, an equally constipated smile on her face, "Who's this? You've never brought anyone before. Is this a work friend?" She almost rolls her eyes at the ridiculous question, as if work friends would be this comfortable with each other. They're already finding excuses, grasping at straws and creating complicated solutions for something that is easy to understand simply because they don’t think she’s worthy of attention. That large hand tightens lightly before a light chuckle reaches her ear, “Vincenzo Cassano, lawyer and the lucky man who gets to call her my mine.” She fidgets in his hold blushing at his bold introduction and watching all eyes widen at them, nobody speaks at first clearly in shock at the revelation.

“Vinshenzo? What kind of name is that?” Someone harps from the back of the crowd and she feels her hackles rise, yes she might have struggled with the pronunciation of his name at first but it felt petty and intentional right now not an honest mistake like her mispronunciation had been.

But before she can unleash her anger, another old classmates breaks the tense stalemate.

“Oh you’re the Italian lawyer I heard about on the new, who took down Babel! Great job!”

She had also helped with that, them being a team but nobody seems to care about that all focusing on Vincenzo, all herding around her Italian like he’s a celebrity and she watches shock as he easily wins them over.

“Sì, ero io. Il piacere è tutto tuo.” Yes that was me, the pleasure is all yours.

The group minus Ae-ram and Min-he all oh and ah at his effortless Italian despite having no clue what exactly he just said, she too is clueless at the quickly stated sentence but the mischievous smirk on his handsome face informs her of all that she needs to know, he is mocking them right to their faces. She hides a smile behind her hands, pretending to cough into her fingers.

Wordlessly, the group separates based on sex-she watches helplessly as Vincenzo is tugged away in a boisterous discussion about the state of Korean football- and she is left alone with those harpies but unlike the other reunions suddenly she is the most interesting woman there, regardless of Ae-ram trying to steal the show with pictures of her new full breed dog. She watches amused as the other woman is pushed aside and she is accosted on both sides, questions firing off like rockets.

“Where did you meet him?”

“Does he have a brother?”

“When are you getting married? You have to marry him!”

“Does he always smell that good?”

She turns flabbergasted to hear that question coming from Ae-ram’s right hand woman, Min-he and Ae-ram glares at her looking betrayed before she storms off with her professional head shots of her dog. She expects Min-he to trail after the spiteful primadonna but to her shock the other woman moves in closer, joining the firing brigade with their million questions about the handsome Italian.

They all settle down when the man they are so curious about returns, hand back on her waist like that its resting place.

Her ears ring from their coos and shrill “awws” but she leans into him nonetheless happy to have him back, already exhausted dealing with these people.

Then she notes that the tone of the questions suddenly shift as they begin to bombard the Italian Korean all at once. There are....more flirtatious when speaking to him and she feels her blood curl at the unprecedented change.

“Are all Italians this handsome?” Her eye twitches at the bold inquiry, subconsciously she feels her eyes narrow into slits as she glares at the woman who was brave stupid enough to ask that. The bitch blanches at her sneer but still flutters her eyelashes at Vincenzo waiting for his response, she clears her throat loudly answering for him, “He’s one of a kind and fortunately all mine. “ She can feel the smug bastard preening next to her practically buzzing from her compliment, and she quickly makes their escape, “Please excuse us.” Vincenzo smoothly tips his drinks at the women, “Addio,” he bids farewell in Italian arm still hooked around her waist as she sashays away, Louboutin's clicking on the marble tile floor.

The scrap of Italian leaves them all in a frenzy, whispering wildly behind them.

She drags them to the bar, ordering two shots of soju and another dirty martini ignoring his examining stare.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” She already knows the answer to her question, it’s written all over him and she tries to stifle the jealousy that wants to rear its ugly head.

He looks over at her with a lazy grin, trying to appear innocent. She isn’t fooled for one second.

“Me? I’m not doing anything. I’m only here for you.”

She scoffs at him, staring at his annoyingly handsome face and his gleaming white suit he discarded the jacket earlier and his arms have been distracting her all night.

“You love the attention.”

He rubs his neck before turning to her fully, leaning on the bar counter.

“What? Are you jealous of the attention I’m getting? isn’t that why you brought me to make you look good?”

She wants to deny it and laugh at him, but even now she can hear the voices in the distance all intrigued by the Italian and the bartender’s eyes linger just a minute too long as the smooth Lawyer throws his free shot back in one fluid motion. She should be used to it by now, everyone in a ten mile radius getting a hard on for the Korean Italian. She understands why he gets all this attention, he is gorgeous that was one of the many reasons that she had fallen for him too but sometimes it can be intimidating to be with someone that so many others desire and so obviously too.

She wonders if she even deserves him.

Was she enough for him?

“What’s going on in that pretty little head?” He taps her on her forehead dragging her from her self-deprecation. “Do you know why they’re all so mean to you?” He suddenly asks and she stares at him before shaking her head no.

Probably because she’s a hot fucking mess.

“They’re jealous of you.”

A burst of laughter slips free at this speculation and she watches as his face tightens, “You really don’t know do you?” His voice is liquid fire, smoky and dark like the tendrils from a cigarette.

“What are you talking about?” She manages to get out despite being lost in his voice.

“How sexy you are.” He leans over to whisper directly in her heated ears, she moans lightly at his breath on her skin.

That is hardly ever a word that she has heard used to describe her, Hong Cha-young.

Clumsy. Forgetful. Selfish. Loud. Demanding. Too Much.

Those words she had heard all her life but never sexy. She was too strange to be sexy.

“You’re smart and beautiful and you have a successful career. You aren’t afraid to be yourself and now you have me on your arm. You have everything and they wish they were you, they’re jealous.” He repeats firmer this time, rubbing a large thumb across her bottom lip and grinning down at her with barely contained glee.

She starts to deny his claim but then she looks behind her and sees nothing but a sea of envy, women and men both looking at them and she notes not all eyes are on Vincenzo a few men seemed lost in the low cut dip of her dress and the miles of naked skin on display.

She gasps at the hard line that pokes at her bottom when he leans into her back, standing flush her back to his front. She shivers when he leans down to breathily say, “Everyone is watching, why don’t we give them a show?”

This is not like her, at all.

She has never been a fan of public displays of affection, even screaming at horny strangers in the past to get a room but she feels all that restraint leave her body at his challenge. Driving her body back into his jutting erection she slowly grinds in perfect rhythm to the song playing over the stereo.

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She feels seductive as the music curls around her and she lifts her arms to wrap around his neck, bringing him ever closer and pushing back harder delighted at the groan that escapes his lips. He is coiled tightly behind her but he doesn’t move a muscle letting her have complete control over their interaction and she has never felt more powerful. Continuing to sway she leans back when he tightens his grip around her waist, mewling as his nose rubs at her earlobe and letting out a soft gasp when he blows on the tender flesh.

When she peels her heavy lids open, there are so many hungry and watchful eyes on them.

Ae-ram looks scandalized and she can see the woman pointing at them but she can’t hear a word that she’s saying the blood in her ears is too loud, drowning out all other sounds.

It must be the liquor in her veins because seeing all the voyeurs only makes her bolder, before she can second guess herself she spins around much to Vincenzo’s chagrin but she silences him with a finger on his lip.

“Follow me.”

He arches a thin eyebrow but eagerly obeys her command when she tugs him in the direction of the bathroom.

She hears several gasps behind her as she tugs open the door stepping inside, dragging him right behind her the silence is deafening when he closes the door behind them, turning the lock with a metallic snap.

Her breath comes out in hurried puffs.

What the fuck am I doing? She asks herself, wondering if this is what people call an out of body experience.

“We don’t have to do anything. Their imaginations will do the rest.”

He’s giving her an out.

Gripping his hands tighter, she pulls him over to the toilet which is thankfully clean using her feet to slam the seat down before pushing down him to sit. He looks up at her with inquisitive eyes, waiting for her next move but lets himself be manhandled the second time this night.

“Thank you for everything tonight,” she covers his mouth with her hands as she climbs into his lap, whatever words he had on his tongue evaporate when their groins meet.

“I know I don’t say this enough, but I love you.”

She has only ever said it once before and he’d been sleeping, they both knew he wasn’t truly asleep but he let her pretend and she appreciated it but there was no way she couldn’t say it now, tonight. He had been her prince charming when she had expected nothing.

“Are you serious? You say it to me in her-” She pops open his pants button cutting off his stunned response and he stares at her, making her feel hot.

“Talk later?” She begs and her request is backed by her hand disappearing through the slit in his pants and wrapping around his dick, the hot muscle twitching fiercely in her hold.

He chokes out word that sounds like a jumbled “yes” and that’s all the consent she needs to stroke him harder, using his precum to glide her hand down from the tip to the base and then back up again, he lets out a punched out groan at her purposeful handling of his imported goods.

Shifting back marginally, she gives herself more room tugging his pants down further to get a better look at the pretty pink cock, it’s standing at attention and weeping for her and rubs harder twisting in a corkscrew motion on the mushroom head much to his pleasure, he thrusts up into her hand and immediately she lets go.

“Please,” he whines so prettily and she tsks at him, “Don’t move, you can only take what I give you. You said you were mine right?”

She doesn’t know what has come over her but seeing all those women and men lusting over her boyfriend makes her want to remind them and him, just who he belongs to.

She expects him to put up some sort of fight, instead he nods eagerly at her command stilling his hip and she can see the strain in his white knuckled grip on the toilet edge.

“Good boy.” She praises and notes with stunned satisfaction the way his dick jumps at the praise too, interesting.

She starts with a light pace, stroking with the barest amount of pressure before she starts to grip him tighter when he groans at the dryness of her hands she leans over to spit on his head, this makes him hiss and fight to stay still in her grip she rewards him with a kiss to his flushed red head. The wet sounds of her hands stroking his hot meat fills the small space of the bathroom and lifting one hand she grabs his tie using it to yank him into a hard kiss, he opens up for her immediately letting her tongue explore his mouth.

She has never seen this mafia man so docile, it’s like seeing a lion behave like a house cat.

With a hard suck at his bottom lip, she breaks their kiss leaving them to pant into each other’s mouth harshly.

She didn’t know how far she actually planned on going but now nothing seems like enough, she needs more.

Staring deep into his eyes, she stands up releasing her grip on him and he sighs watching her confused before she slides both hands under her dress and slowly pulls down her panties, they are tiny, white and lace, matching her bra and he looks mesmerized as they are pried down her legs.

“Are you sure?” He’s still checking on her and she smiles at him, stepping out of the panties and cheekily putting them in his pocket, “Give them safe for me,” she doesn’t give him a chance to reply before sinking back down onto him, his dick is hard and thick but she’s so wet that he glides into her like they are two matching pieces of a puzzle. An erotic puzzle.

“Fuck!” He shouts when he bottoms out and his cock is completely encased in her tight walls, his voice echoes off the bathroom walls.

She grabs his tie, making his eyes pop open and she watches amused as he sputters as she stuffs the expensive material into his mouth.

“You’re being too loud.” She teases remembering all the times he had been the one admonishing her as she screamed beneath him.

“You’re enjoying this aren’t you?” He echoes her words from spitting out the tie and she can’t deny it, so instead she rocks forward taking even more of him simultaneously shoving the wet tie back into his mouth listening to his barely muffled grunts. She rises up on the tips of her toes, her red bottoms giving her that extra bit of height, his hard tip popping free with a wet squelch before she slams back down onto him titling her head back and moaning to the ceiling.

He’s being so good, not moving at all simply letting her fuck down on him and she can tell his control is slipping every time he grips her waist too tightly, painfully.

She continues to ride him, chasing her own pleasure and whimpering when his blunt head slides across her engorged bead, rocking vigorously up and down as she feels the end drawing near. She tightens her hold on his shoulder, using him as leverage to ride him faster, his thighs tense under the weight of her body and her rapid pace.

The wet smacks fill the air filthily and she feels dirty, absolutely nasty but instead of shame an intense wave of pride barrels over her.

“You’re mine.” She whispers out loud to herself but he misinterprets the words and eagerly nods at the statement thinking she wants him to declare that he’s hers, “Yes I am yours, all yours,” and she loses her mind, pistoning herself rapidly on his lap before pleasure surges through her body, starting in her toes and curling up her thighs and she rocks her nipples into his chest through their layers of clothes, she muffles her cry in his throat roughly pulling at the skin there to silence her deafening screams.

It’s only then that he breaks the rules, reaching up to grab her shoulders and yanking her down to meet his vicious upward thrust and waves and waves of thick streams fill her up until she feels it leaking at the sides.

There is no sound besides their louds pants.

Then two loud knocks make them both jump from their wrecked state, his softening length falling from her grip.

“This is the only bathroom.” A voice calls out disgusted and with a gasp she stands up straightening her dress and running a hand through her hair before realizing that it’s still sticky, great.

Vincenzo is a puddle on the toilet, legs spread apart and softened dick not yet tugged away, he looks like sin reincarnated and it takes everything not to initiate another round.

“Come on lover boy,” she tugs him up pulling him up and zipping up his pants, then she moves him over to the sink washing her hands and making him do the same. Their eyes meet in the mirror and that’s when she sees much how debauched they truly look, when he turns to look at the hickey she sucked into his pale skin while trying to be quiet she finally feels the ability to be embarrassed returning.

it’s huge and red, almost purple, covering the thick column of his throat and he winces when he rubs at it.

“I’m sorry, I got carried away.” She apologizes but its for naught because he grins at her proudly, “You were just claiming what’s yours.”

His words light another fire under her skin and it’s only the pounding on the door that stops her from jumping him again.

When they finally pull the door open, none other than a blanched face Ae-ram is on the other side. The woman looks shocked to see them both standing in front of her and the gears begin to slowly turn and a bright blush rushes up her unnaturally high cheekbones while color evacuates the rest of her face.

“Are you serious?!”

She doesn’t stay to hear the rest of the woman’s snide remark, all eyes are on them as she walks over to the bar to grab her discarded purse and Vincenzo’s jacket, the bartender winks knowingly at them looking equal parts aroused and jealous and she chortles, winking back.

He hands them two shots, “It’s on the house,” he looks them up and down languidly licking his lips and she slams back the bitter liquid before turning to Vincenzo, his lips are shiny and now wet under the bright lights.

“Let’s get out of here.” She slams the shot glass on the counter, pulling him out the door.

He hastily swallows his drink, letting her tug him out the door into the cool night air.

“You didn’t let me answer you before, but me too.”

She looks at him from the corner of her eye, the wind causing her to sober up and it takes a minute to understand what he’s talking about. She shifts awkwardly when she ultimately realizes nodding while looking away, their cab is three minutes away.

“I love you too, Hong Cha- young.”

As if she didn’t already know. It was too obvious after tonight.

#vincenzo #vincenzo cassano #hong cha young #rated E #smut with feelings #chayenzo #CCFC2021 #top CY

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forever-rogue · 4 years ago

Note

if your still accepting prompts, maybe an introspect fic with Frankie or Whiskey. Like they find out that their s/o is pregnant and it just triggers them into reminiscing about their life together. Maybe fluff/angst— my thought was maybe them thinking back to when they almost broke up and if they hadn’t gotten back together, then they wouldn’t be expecting a child together right now -🦔

Pairing: Jack Daniels x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: pregnant reader

Pedro Character Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

A heavy sigh escaped your lips as you woke up, yet again, in the middle of the night as your bladder screamed at you. A hand went to your burgeoning belly as you tenderly cradled it. You wanted to be annoyed, but you couldn't find it in your heart to be so. Despite the multiple wake-ups throughout the night, you couldn't have been happier.l

You didn't bother to look to make sure you didn't wake your sleeping husband, needing to get to the bathroom quickly. Throwing the blankets back, you slid out from them and padded to the bathroom in search of the toilet.

As you finished washing your hands, you studied yourself in the mirror. You definitely looked tired, circles and lines under your eyes from a lack of fitful slumber, and your body felt heavy. It wasn't just the fact that you were nearing the end of your pregnancy, it was just that your limbs felt tired and worn down. But in the end, you knew it would all be worth it - you and Jack had both wanted this more than anything. It had been the most pleasant of surprises.

"Time for you to calm down and get some rest," you whispered softly to your belly before flipping the lights back off and giving your eyes a moment to adjust the early morning darkness.

Carefully fumbling your way back into the bedroom, you slipped back into the warm nest of blankets. Reaching for you Jack's body, you quickly realized that he wasn't there. Strange - he'd gone to bed with you earlier. It was no matter, you quickly decided, he'd probably rejoin you soon enough.

But as you laid there and tried to fall back asleep…it rapidly became a futile effort. You huffed, staring at the ceiling, as you quickly realized how much easier it was to sleep with your husband next to you.

“Alright, alright,” sitting up slowly, you wiped the remaining bit of sleep from your eyes as you gave up on it entirely. It was still early, early enough to where you could crawl back under the covers and sleep for a few more hours, but that idea was quickly abandoned, “let’s go find your daddy, little peanut.”

Shuffling into slippers, you made your way down the stairs, one at a time as you were destined to do so these days, keeping an ear out for Jack. Once you reached the landing, the smell of fresh coffee overwhelmed you, and the urge to run and grab a cup was first on your mind. But for now, you decided against it, knowing your caffeine intake was limited and not wanting to blow it so early in the day.

Trapezing past the kitchen you spied the french doors to the back porch and quickly came to the conclusion that Jack was outside. Grabbing one of the blankets from the couch, you wrapped it around your shoulders and wandered outside, finding your favorite cowboy sitting at the glass table, a steaming mug of coffee in his hand as he watched the early morning sun slowly rise.

“Hi Sugar,” his face lit up as soon as he saw you, dark eyes softened and his dimple became more prominent, “what are you doing up so early? I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“It wasn’t you,” you promised as you sat down in the chair across from, well...I woke up and had to pee...again, and then I couldn’t go back to sleep. It’s not the same without you. So I figured I might as well get up, and low and behold, I found my favorite person.”

“I hardly am deserving of such a little as favorite person,” he shook his head as reached for your legs and placed them in his lap, “I’m just an old fool.”

“Shut up,” you snorted as you bundled up and got comfortable, “I say you’re my favorite person and you accept that - or else! But tell me, my love, why are you up so early?”

“I suppose I couldn’t sleep either,” he admitted, taking a long drink from his coffee before setting it back on the table. He was silent, almost still, for a few long moments before he put his hands on your legs and lightly massaged your sore muscles, “a lot on my mind.”

“I hope it’s nothing too bad, cowboy,” you whispered softly, “anything I can help with?”

“You’ve already done so much for me,” he reached for your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, “you have given me so much and more. I don’t know where I would be without you - how lucky I am to call you my wife and the mother of my child.”

“And what about me? I must be pretty lucky then too,” lacing your fingers together, you studied your hands. Yours just managed to fit perfectly into his - just like it was meant to be, “is that all that’s bugging you, Honey?”

“I just…” he caught your eye and thought twice about dismissing your worry. You could always see right through him, and it seemed like your senses had only heightened with your pregnancy. He laughed lightly at himself before nodding, “I was just thinking about how we almost didn’t have this. How all of this could have been taken away.”

“I know,” you reminded him with a gentle nudge, “there were a few times when I wasn’t sure we would make it either. But I’m glad we did, Jack. I know it sounds horribly cliche, but I can’t help but think that somehow the universe wanted us together, like we were meant to be.”

“I don’t think that’s cliche at all, Sugar,” he brought your hand to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, “I don’t know what life would be like without you. You really are everything to me.”

“I like to think life would be terribly boring and much worse,” you insisted, “nothing is better than when I’m with you. I love you, Jack.”

“I love you too,” he promised softly, “always and forever.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Several Years Prior

“Sugar,” Jack’s hands were on his hips as he watched you flit about the room and throw random items into your suitcase. Whatever you could find was thrown into the big case and you could barely stand to look at him, “what on earth are you doing?”

“What does it look like, Jack?” you stopped for a moment and huffed at him, throwing up your hands in exasperation, “I’m leaving. I-I-I can’t do this anymore.”

“Honey,” he came over and tried to gently grab your hands in order to help calm you down and ground you, “just slow down, it’s okay. It’s okay, you don’t have to do this.”

You didn’t jerk out of his touch like he had half expected you to, but instead you acquiesced to his touch, “Jack...I can’t...do this. It’s too much for me, and no matter how much we try, I don’t think we can work this out.”

“Honey…”

“Jack…” you looked at him, tears already welling up in your eyes as your pouted lips trembled, “you work such a dangerous job and you’re gone so often and when you’re gone I can’t communicate with you all the time, and it makes me worried sick. All I do is wonder if you're okay, and if this is the time...if this is the time that I’ll get a call tell me...telling me you’re dead.”

“That is never going to happen,” he insisted, despite the fact that both of you knew it wasn’t a promise he was qualified to make, “nothing will happen to me, Sugar. I will always come back to you.”

“And what if you don’t?” a single pearled up in the corner of your eye and slowly slid down your cheek. Jack tenderly wiped it away and cradled your face in his hands, “what if you leave me one day? I can’t think of a life without you. I don’t want that. And you’ve been gone so much lately...this is the first time you’ve been home in what? Weeks?”

“I know this isn’t easy on you. I know that, and you are the strongest woman I know to - to stay and put up with me? That must make you some kind of superhero,” he chuckled softly at the surprised expression on your face, “I know it seems like some sort of last ditch thing to say to you but I’ve been thinking about this a lot.”

“About what, Jack?”

“I’m going to start cutting back my hours at work,” he said and instantaneously your face lit up, “it’s something I’ve been talking a lot about with Champ, and I think the time is right. I mean, I’m not getting any younger, and I don’t want things to always be like this. I want to spend my time - and my life - with you. And hell, if cutting back or even quittin’ is what keeps you here, I will do it. I love you, Sugar. And I only want you.”

“Jack, Honey,” you caught his eye and there was a twinkle in this, as a tentative smile tugged on his features, “I-I don’t want you to say that or do something like that if you don’t want to. I don’t want this if it’s something you don’t want either, or it's something you’ll be upset about forever.”

“It’s not that,” he leaned in, just so where your lips were barely brushing, “I want to do this, Sugar. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I want this, I really do. I only want a future if it’s a future with you.”

“Jack…” his name was but a mere before you closed the miniscule gap and kissed him. It was a soft, tender thing, short but sweet, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered, “I know we’ve talked about it...but I want to take the next step in our relationship with you...I want to marry you and start that family we’ve always talked about.”

“Y-you want that...with me?” Jack felt his heart start to melt as you looked up at him with the sweetest eyes he had ever seen, “do you mean it?”

“Of course I do,” he promised, “I’ve been trying to plan this whole big thing where I propose to you - properly - and we spend a romantic weekend away together. But when I saw this...I knew I couldn’t not say anything…”

“Yes,” you nodded eagerly, “of course I’ll marry you, and of course I want everything with you too, Jack. You’re my only one. I just...I might have been acting in haste, but it’s just...I want you to be safe.”

“I will be,” he reminded you, “I’ve been thinking about this for some time, and I think the time is right. I don’t have the ring here on me right now, but I promise I’ll make do on a good, proper proposal soon - when you’re not even expecting it.”

“I look forward to that, Cowboy,” you teased lightly as you offered him another quick kiss, “I’m sorry I acted so rashly. I just…”

“No apologies needed, Sugar,” he wrapped you up in his arms as you buried your face into his shoulder, “I love you.”

“I love you,” you agreed softly, “thank you for this - for everything. We really do make a good time, don’t we?”

“Just like we were divined to be, if I do say so myself.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

“Come on, Sugar,” Jack slowly moved your legs off and set them on the ground. You gave him a look of confusion as he slowly stood up and offered you his hand, “it’s chilly out here. Let’s get back into bed and get you a few more hours of sleep.”

“Hmm,” you let him help hoist you to your feet, “that sounds perfect, Jack. You’re my favorite blanket!”

“Ulterior motives,” he chuckled as he slowly pulled you inside and towards the bedroom, “whatever you want, you’ll have it, Sugar.”

“Just you is plenty,” you grinned at him, “but I’ll take some breakfast later on too. A lazy day sounds pretty good, don’t you think?”

“Sounds perfect to me, Sugar.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @queenbbarnes @persephonesnebula @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff @suckerfor-fanfics @bestintheparsec @javihoney @aeryntheofficial @hail-doodles @engineeredfiction @aeryntheofficial @asgardianvamp21 @keithseabrook27 @karmezii @dearspacepirates @thatsuitlooksgoodonyou @paintballkid711 @mrpascals @lv7867 @artsymaddie @gooddaykate @rosiefridayrogersunday @heyitmelexie @criminalmind1927 @justanotherblonde23 @coni-martina @thewayofthemandalorian @phoenixhalliwell @lucifer @cosmoschick @kochamcie @linkpk88 @leaiorganas @nikkixostan @haley-the-comet @chibi-yuki @computeringturtle @4ng3lf43 @intu-witch-tion @wondergal2001 @gingerbreadandpaper @willowtheewisp @milkxxkookies @smollpinkgirl @zukoyonce @boomtownboy @velia27 @discowitchyy @kiss-evans @theorganasolo @mishasminion360 @its–fandom–darling @emmy626 @nyasiaaaaa

#agent whiskey #agent Whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x fem!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader

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kosmosguk · 4 years ago

Text

Bloody Artistry (M) ~🥀

pairing: celeb! kim taehyung x journalist! reader; minor pairings: jungkook x reader, coworker jimin x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 8K

Summary: when the scrutiny of fame becomes too much, perfect kim taehyung finds his peace within a lavish bathroom located two blocks away from the nearest club, a corpse in the bed with him. the fans have never questioned his behavior, not when his company is much too good at cleaning up his mess to not have done it before, but when a reporter with too many questions threatens to break the peace he’s established, he finds himself in a tango with the devil that he can’t bring himself to want to break.

[Warnings: MURDER, death, literally Taehyung being a sick bastard 25/8 (but only in fiction), company corruption, violence, yandere themes, mentions of noncon smut (intoxication, mentions of being drugged, fingering), blackmail, obsession, stalking. EVERYTHING that happens in this fic is FICTION; plz don’t go busting nuts for serial killers]

A/N: Thank you to yoongissugarmommy for requesting this! Part 1 of a short series starring Taehyung. Was going to do smth similar to Lineage with him, but this has been staying in my drafts for too long (like i wrote most of this before I even wrote Lineage, which is why my writing for part of this is a bit different from my current one), and I feel like going a bit modern now to take a break from Lineage (taking a bit to write pt. 4 just because it’s the end of the main story). Thank you for 2.9k followers! We’re only less than 50 away from 3K which is so wild to think about; kisses and hugs to everyone who’s supported my work!

“Today, in the studio, we have our nation’s golden boy, the first love of all of our viewers: Kim Taehyung. Everyone, please clap your hands for him!’’

The MC turned to grin at the audience as the audience cheered loudly; her glossy black hair swept down and framed her face delicately in perfect shiny strands. The lipstick that coated her unnaturally wide smile was a deep shade of red, stark against her pale white skin. Dressed in her primly pressed suit, she looked lovely, like a blooming rose, but as she turned to face the guest star, his presence seemed to easily outshine her own.

“Thank you for having me. It’s an honor to have an interview here and have an opportunity to see all of my lovely fans,’’ Taehyung’s deep voice rang out as he smiled in his heart-swooning way, flashing pure-white teeth handsomely in a carefully maintained and practiced way that made all the fans, both in the studio and watching from beyond a screen, unable to resist letting out shrieks and screams.

“Now, Taehyung-ssi, with a record-breaking album that topped the charts as soon as it came out and a modelling gig that sells out magazines faster than before, how does it feel to have really made it? It must stress you out. Any tips on how to relax?’’

Taehyung leaned back slightly in his seat, his smile flashing coy for a brief second before settling into a rehearsed contemplative expression. He shrugged his shoulders, letting them drop out, as he made a soft hmm noise.

“How I relax? It’s not that big of a deal, really, but that’s an interesting question to ask, noona,’’ Taehyung widened his eyes slightly, looking ever so much like the golden boy persona he had stickered upon his reputation,’’ When I’m really, really stressed, I like to play with Tannie, my dog, and eats lots of yummy food that my mom sends to me when I get stressed. Also, my manager Namjoon is a good person to talk to when I’m really stressed; he always knows what to do and say.’’ Taehyung tapped the tip of his nose lightly, scrunching his face in an expression that made fans coo in adoration. “I also like to think of my fans and read all the letters they’ve sent me. I saved all of my letters from my beloved fans since my debut, and I like looking through them.’’

“Hey, Kim Namjoon, fucking hurry up,” Taehyung hissed into the cellphone pressed against his flawless cheek,” My shoes are going to get stained at this point. You know blood is a pain to properly get out of letter.’’

“Were you at least careful this time? We don’t want rumors getting out,” Namjoon’s voice crackled over the receiver, barely a hint of emotion in his voice. The beeping and honking of cars on his side of the phone call signaled the rush his manager was making towards his location.

Taehyung huffed in agitation, clicking his tongue sharply in annoyance as he skimmed his nails for any trace of dried blood. “Oh, come on, you think I really even care at this point? With the way the company takes care of everything, you’d think perfect ol’ me was…well perfect. But still, aren’t you guys way too good at this job? 7 girls and not even a peek from the public. Who else do you do this for, huh? Suga-sunbae? J-hope-sunbae?”

There was no reply. Taehyung threw his gaze over to the practically mangled body. Too bad, he thought to himself, she was really pretty this time. Red lipstick, silky black hair, wanted to become better acquainted with such a famous celebrity after her little interview, the whole fanatic spiel tied with a pretty bow of the title of an mc. She would’ve never thought that she’d go from being a bed-warmer to being so cold.

“I must be right then, huh? Suga-sunbae I can see, but J-Hope-sunbae…’’ Taehyung whistled lowly under his breath. “I thought you’d at least deny that. It’s the bright ones you gotta watch out for.’’

A dial noise was the only response. Did…Did this bastard hang up on him? Taehyung grimaced before three knocks rang on the door of the hotel suite, a signal from his asshole manager that Namjoon had finally arrived. Taehyung rolled back his shoulders, his joints crackling a little, and made sure all of his jewelry was perfectly back in place before he opened the door.

As Namjoon shuffled in with some of the staff members, Taehyung clasped his silver watch around his wrist with a soft click. He rolled his neck, trying to get the stiffness out of it, and exposed purple marks and bruises from the bites the now dead girl had given him when they had been fucking earlier.

Finally, his headache was gone.

You chugged down a cup of stale coffee and wiped the dribble of liquid that escaped the corner of your mouth as you clicked off some article about a newbie mc receiving slander after rumors of her making moves on a popular idol was exposed and disappearing to avoid the backlash. Squinting at your screen with dry eyes, you pursed your lips and snapped the laptop shut, pushing the device away from you in an agitated huff.

“Wbat’s got you in the gutters, huh? Let me guess…,’’ Park Jimin, your desk mate, rolled his chair over to your side, his glasses askew on his nose,” Ah, your favorite celebrity go into a dating scandal? Let me think, who was it that recently go into a scandal… Oh, is it that pretty boy from a new idol group?’’

You gave him the stink-eye, and your sigh this time was even louder.

“You’d think there’d be something more…interesting going with these celebrities that we could get our hands on. Too much money, lots of stress, yet no story that’ll really seize the audience by surprise, and don’t you dare say a dating scandal would do it. Boss’s been on my case for the whole week on writing an article to shock the audience and wants me to release a major headliner story in two weeks, or that asshole’ll fire me. Damn it, Kim Seokjin!” you hissed out before slamming your forehead onto the desk.

“Man, be careful with your volume; if he hears your tone, he’ll chew you out for another hour that you could be using to research. Boss Kim is picky like that with everyone because our company’s a small piece of seaweed in a system dominated by crustaceous predators.” Jimin poked you in the side jokingly, his plush lips spread in a wide smile that lit up his exhausted face. “Just think really hard; use that big brain of yours and focus on a celebrity. Come on, no one’s perfect, even that one super famous idol Kim Taehyung must have some flaws, so don’t sweat it.”

“That golden boy? Man, the whole nation’s pussy-whipped for him. He couldn’t possibly be anything bu—,’’ you sharply inhaled before pushing your seat back and rapidly swiveling to face Jimin,’’ Park. Fucking. Jimin. Oh my God, you’re a fucking genius! A whole career with not even a speck of dirt… Come on, even pure-faced idol Soyeon was caught with a scandal last month. There must be something on the nation’s golden boy!’’

Jimin’s eyes widened in surprise with your sudden outburst, and he opened his mouth to speak. “Be careful about the way you go when you try to fish out info on him. His company’s security isn’t something easy to get through, and not a single celeb from that company has gotten into a single scandal. No reporters been able to get any dirt from them…”

“Which means that…there’s something sketchy happening. Jimin, Jimin, have I told you I’m in love with you?’’

You turned around quickly in your chair, spinning in glee. Jimin dropped his mouth open to sputter something, and his cheeks were tinging red, but you weren’t looking at or even listening to Jimin at hat point, having already cracked open your laptop to furiously type Kim Taehyung into Naver. This was it! Your big break! Your motivation sky-rocketed, and you felt the first rush of energy that wasn’t fueled by some caffeinated drink in a long while.

Two hours later, you were ready to throw up.

All of the results were sickeningly the same bullshit, as what was expected for someone as beloved by the nation as Kim Taehyung was. You couldn’t fathom the amount of fancams and magazine spreads of him posing on some brown leather sofa and fact pieces—hell, you even knew what kind of socks the man liked—that you had spent the past hours scrolling through.

Realizing that the office was nearly empty, and that the sky was dimming into a dark hue, you were about to shut down your laptop and call it a long fucking day when a tweet on someone’s SNS caught your eye.

@truth-teller: kim taehyung? nation’s golden boy? are you all really sure about that nonsense?

The tweet was spammed with angered replies, so many that the thread seemed to stretch on for at least a mile, but your interest was piqued. This was the first word of slander you had ever witnessed against Taehyung. You quickly pounded out a message to the account.

@name_01: hey, I saw your tweet about taehyung! Do you perhaps have any more information on him? I find him suspicious too.

You tapped send and waited with bated breath for a reply. Minutes crept by, and you were about to turn off your phone and head out of work when you noticed three dots pop up, dancing before disappearing.

@truth-teller: you fr? I had to suspend my acc because of all the spam I got. No one’s believed me on it, but I have proof

You chewed on your lip. What if this was a joke, and you were just wasting your time on some internet troll with too much time on their hands. It seemed like you were taking too long to reply because another message popped up.

@truth-teller: if you don’t believe me then that’s fine. I don’t have to waste my time

@name_01: WAIT! Sorry, it took me a second to comprehend this information… Please tell me more.

You were worried that the account wouldn’t reply anymore, and that you had ruined your opportunity before the three dots popped up again and another message was sent.

@truth-teller: ok, if you want to find out more let’s move to a better messaging platform, just in case my acc gets suspended by more fans. here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxxx

It was a gamble to send some stranger on the internet your number, but at this point, you were too desperate to really give a damn. There was a story just out of the reach of your fingertips; you would be a fool to deny the carrot on a stick you were being provided.

@name-01: okay, I’ll message you.

Name: hey! Truth-teller right? This is me from the messages

JK: yeah that’s me. I prefer JK when I’m not on sns tho

Name: I’m (y/n). I don’t mean to sound like I’m hurrying you, but I want to hear what you have to say about Taehyung.

JK: lol r u a reporter or smth? Real bossy of you keke

You sucked in a breath. Should you reveal that?

Name: haha would it be bad if I said I was?

There was no response for the next 15 minutes. Exhaling a long sigh, you decided that you should at least maneuver your way home; the office had been cleared out completely during your conversation with this JK, and you couldn’t help the creeps that the emptiness gave you. If anything, the walk back to your place would give you some outlet for the nervous energy radiating throughout you. You were nearly at the door of your apartment when your phone vibrated in your pocket, signaling a message.

JK: just checking. Makes sense that you’re one though. It’d be nice if you could break this story out, but I hope you trust me enough after I tell you what I know

You clicked the door shut behind you, your eyebrows creased as you stared at your phone screen.

Name: don’t worry. I trust you!

You dropped your bag down onto the sofa before throwing your body onto the seat. The three dots under JK’s name popped up for several minutes before disappearing. In the place of the three dots, a long message had been typed out.

JK: I didn’t really think much of taehyung when I first heard about him since he’s the nation’s golden boy or whatever bs title they call him nowadays, but my sister’s friend was a big fan of him. she went out with my sister and they met him in some shady club in gangnam. my sister’s friend got to talk to him exclusively and my sister got separated from her and got a text from her friend saying that she had smth come up and she already went home. she tried to contact her friend the day after, but she got a text back saying that her friend wasn’t feeling well. my sister’s friend was “best friends’’ with her but she didn’t contact my sister again until a week later saying she got a job opportunity overseas and already was about to board on the plane because it was important she got there fast. my sister’s friend didn’t contact her again like she dropped off the face of the earth

You pursed your lips in contemplation as you tapped out a message back, your nails clicking against the screen.

Name: ?? Are you sure that isn’t a coincidence?

JK: yeah, I thought so too but it was rly sus that my sister’s friend who had known my sister for 12 years to suddenly go overseas for a job opportunity without telling her at all. and when my sister tried to get new contact info from her friend there was no reply. but I got curious and since I do some computer work for my job i wanted to see if I could track the ip address of her phone but there was nothing. her last previous ip was all the way back in gangnam and my sister’s friend lived in incheon. that was a red flag so I decided to go talk to the landlord at my sister’s friend’s old apartment and the landlord said he didn’t see her come back since before that night but woke up to a fully paid lease and the apartment cleared out

You squinted your eyes at the screen, unable to properly process the information that this so-called JK had just given you. Chewing on your lip, you closed your eyes briefly before opening them back up and typing back a message.

Name: anything else? Sorry…just seems a bit far-fetched.

JK: think whatever then. I have to go to work now

Right when JK’s message popped up, another message pinged on your cell. You refused to let yourself ponder more on JK’s last message as you clicked on your friend’s text notification.

Platonic LOML <3: BAE, R U FREE TONIGHT? I’m lonely n want someone to come with me to this club— ik you’re not into clubs but pretty please

You were about to reply with a refusal when JK’s words came up to your mind again. You didn’t know why, but there was a sharp feeling in your gut that told you that you couldn’t miss this opportunity Call it silly intuition or some coincidental fabrication spurned by your mind, but that feeling persisted until you typed out a reply to your friend.

Name: okay fine. Come over in 30.

Taehyung swirled the liquid in his glass, watching the deep burgundy of the wine stain the glass a soft pink. His head was hurting again, and the new medication he had been taking for them on advice of the company didn’t work.

He scanned the dim, musty club, watching the pulsating lights cloak the dancing bodies in sallow shades of pale yellow. This club was a downgrade from his previous celebrity-exclusive club that he had gone to the previous week, but his manager had told him that if he really wanted peace, he should choose an area where no one would really know him.

Taehyung knew the real reason why his manager had insisted on this. Deaths of other celebrities were much harder to cover up after all.

Pity he actually followed his manager’s advice for once. The wine in here, despite the bougie price tag, was complete shit and provided him a slight buzz at best. And there was no one who really caught his eye out of the crowd of people. As he was about to get up from his seat and leave the club for somewhere with better—he contemplated going back to that celebrity club just to fuck with his company—pickings, he caught sight of someone entering the club.

You looked absolutely gorgeous, swathed in a black shift that you kept fighting to keep over your ass—and god, was it a plump ass too, the kind that made Taehyung’s cock hard in his tight black pants—with hair framing your face in a breathtaking way that showed glimpses of sparkling jewelry. Your friend, some chick with dyed green hair that Taehyung didn’t bother paying attention to, was clinging onto your arm, dragging you near the dance floor.

Taehyung knew.

He couldn’t take his eyes off you.

His head seemed to clear from the mind-numbing throb it always had when he spent too much time without another victim to take his aggression out of. Feeling the cool metal of the blade he always had tucked near his body, Taehyung sat back down in his seat, a playful smile perking at the edges of his lips. Funny enough, the blood thirst that never seemed to properly leave him was gone from his mind, an occurrence that was as rare as the pills the company liked shoving down his throat actually working for once.

You maneuvered your way over to the bar, to him, your friend pouting as she noticed you leaving before melting away into the crowd of grinding bodies. Taehyung swore then and there that the attraction between you and him was absolutely magnetic, with the way you seemed to pull the other towards one another.

He watched as you ordered some pretty-colored martini, adorably scrunching your face as the burn of alcohol coated your tongue and hit the back of your throat with a singe.

Maybe, Taehyung though to himself as he propped his chin lazily on his palm, he should really start listening to his manager more often.

Your mind was in a haze, and you didn’t even notice the man next to you until he was nearly pressed to your side, barely leaving a gap of space between the two of you.

You glanced at him, your tipsy mind suddenly sobering up as you realized who the man sitting next to you was. Kim Taehyung? What the fuck was he doing here?

“Another drink for a pretty lady?” Taehyung’s teeth showed as he charmingly flashed an award-winning coquettish smile at you, his already extremely handsome features seeming to increase in beauty from the grin.

You remembered JK’s words and a chill ran up your spine. God, his messages didn’t seem so implausible now, did they? Goosebumps rose up on your skin, freezing you to the bar table. Were…Were you his next victim?

You swallowed dryly as you tried to calm your racing heartbeat. The side of you that was a reckless journalist wanted to take a nosedive at the headliner just out of reach, but the rational side of you knew that leap of faith had a much bigger chance of you ending up disappearing off for a new job opportunity overseas, as Taehyung’s company would have it. You couldn’t write a good story if you were dead, after all.

“Thank you, but I can pay for my own drinks,’’ your lips twitched slightly as you forced them into a hopefully convincing gentle smile, refusing his offer softly before moving your body casually a few inches away from him,” Having drinks bought by strangers isn’t really my thing.”

Your smile must’ve looked a hell of a lot less nervous than you actually felt and a lot more convincing too because Taehyung’s shoulders, which had previously been winded like he was a predator getting ready to pounce on prey, seemed to relax at your words.

There was a dark gleam in his eyes when he again invaded your personal space and pushed his body near yours. He leaned in and whispered softly into your ears, his voice clear despite the early 2010s hits blaring from the speakers by the dance floor.

“If you’re scared of strangers, why don’t we get to know each other a bit?’’

Your fake smile grew stiff on your face. You felt like you were going to hurl the convenience store meal of ramen that you had scarfed before coming to the club all over the bar and Taehyung’s expensive luxury bran clothes. You could feel a sense of dread in your bones, the kind a prey animal would feel as a predator focused its carnivorous attention on them.

You forced a fake laugh, trying to drive the message that you were just not interested to Taehyung as loud and clear as you could manage.

“No thanks; I have enough people I’m close to. If you’ll excuse me, I think I’ve left my friend alone for far too long on the dance floor.”

You pushed yourself off the bar table, flashing a strained polite smile before you headed over the dance floor, trying to keep your pace slow and steady instead of breaking out into the outright run you wanted to do.

Taehyung inhaled the linger scent of your perfume, a natural smell that sweetly layered itself over the damp musky air of the club. His eyes, even as you tried to focus on the pounding music and forget the fear embedded deeply in your gut, never seemed to leave your form. Even when you burrowed yourself deeply into the crowd away from his view, you could still feel it.

You found yourself painfully sober after that encounter, trying to look normal in front of your friend for the rest of the night that seemed to painstakingly drag on for eternity. Even when you had the short 2-minute walk from the cab you took to your front door, you didn’t stop looking over your shoulder, still feeling the chill that came with the thought of Taehyung’s gaze. When you got inside your home, the bubbling nausea in your stomach took control over you, and you ended up heaving your dinner down the toilet.

When you managed to somewhat pull yourself together, you typed out a quick message with practically shaking fingers to the only one you could think of in that moment would understand what you were feeling, You stared at your unsent message before hastily pressing send.Name: I didn’t know who to talk to, but I saw Taehyung at the club today. I think you’re right about what you said about Taehyung.

Name: I didn’t know who to talk to, but I saw Taehyung at the club today. I think you’re right about what you said about Taehyung.

Ping!

You barely managed to fall asleep that night, and your eyes painfully ached when you peeled your eyelids open, hurriedly grabbing your phone and turning it on to check your messages.

JK: what happened? Sry for late response. Job keeps me busy all night

Your fingers flew over the keyboard as you typed out your message, furrowing your eyebrows in concentration as you tried to relay the events of your night in hopefully comprehensible words.

Name: I went with my friend to some sketchy club idk what area at this point but I went to the bar and I felt someone come up to me ?? I turned and realized it was Taehyung, and he offered to buy me a drink but I declined. Makes me sick how I could’ve been his next victim, so I tried to leave and go back to where there was more ppl in the club, But I can’t stop thinking about the look in his eyes. There was something sickening in them, I couldn’t put my finger on it.

JK didn’t respond for a bit, and you exhaled a trembling breath when his message popped up.

JK: be careful. Im glad you managed to get away

Name: I’m scared. I didn’t know what to do, but hopefully I’ll never see him again once I get this scoop out.

JK: stay safe. Thx for telling me. Text me if anything else happens.

You let out a shaky breath before clicking your phone off, your nerves still rattled but slightly more calmed down after talking with JK. You had to get ready for work, but at this rate, you weren’t even sure how you would be able to get through the day. Maybe you should take a sick day? No, you couldn’t.

The elevator dinged closed behind you as you stepped out of it into the office. As you were about to take a seat at your desk, your boss rushed out of his office, relief, something he never showed to you, evident on his expression once he caught sight of you.

“(Y/n)! Come into my office; I have an important job for you,’’ your boss ushered you into his office without another word, practically pushing a baffled you into the room frantically,” You know the company that manages Kim Taehyung? They reached out and agreed to an exclusive one-on-one interview with Kim Taehyung only, and only, if you agreed to the interview.”

You stiffened, your body frozen as you tried to process the words your boss had just spoken. Your brain seemed to be running a marathon as you computed the words your boss said, and you could only meekly respond with a limp,” Why me? Can’t somebody…Can’t someone else take over? Boss…you know I’m not that experienced.”

Boss Kim barely paid any attention to your words as he rested a hand on your shoulder with a confident look on his face.

“Then, use this opportunity to get more experience. You want to show the world that you’re a journalist by getting a scoop? Then take this interview! You know the company never agrees to exclusive one-on-one interviews unless they’re all staged, but there wasn’t even talk of this being staged at all. If you can use this opportunity and get something big, won’t this be your biggest step towards a great journalist career?’’ your boss exclaimed,’’ If you back out, another chance like this won’t come again!”

As much of an asshole Boss Kim was sometimes, you could find the logic in his words. Besides, it must be a coincidence that Kim Taehyung wanted you specifically to give him an interview; maybe he wanted a newbie, so they wouldn’t have much experience trying to fish out personal details and twist his words.

That’s right. There was no way he even remembered what you looked like. You guys interacted for, what, a solid 2 minutes last night. And if you did this interview right, you could use it as a building block as evidence for the headliner you intended to release with what JK had told you.

You exhaled, nodding your head firmly.

“I will. I’ll take this interview.”

Boss Kim’s face brightened, making him look much more like the stereotypical handsome CEO character found in dramas. Since he always looked exhausted and stressed out, he always seemed more intimidating, an aura that seemed to scare off any thoughts about how gorgeous he actually was. You had to admit: your heart did flutter a bit at his face.

“Excellent! He’s waiting in the meeting room right now! You only need, what, six hours to prepare, right?”

Fuck, you take back that heart flutter. Boss Kim was an asshole.

“S-Sir,’’ you sputtered,” I can’t…’’

Before you even finished your words, Boss Kim was already ushering you back out of the office.

“I believe in you! You got this!”

He closed the door behind you. You swallowed back the mouthful of swears you wanted to spew before scrambling towards your desk.

You weren’t prepared, but you knew you would do anything for a scoop.

Exactly 6 hours and seventeen seconds later, you were primly seated in front of Kim Taehyung.

The seats were annoyingly too close, and you cursed Boss Kim in your heart, knowing that the reason why the chairs were placed in such an unprofessional manner was because Boss Kim wanted to create the perfect intimate setting for no cost. If you tried to extend your legs, you’d end up smacking them straight into Taehyung’s legs.

You, although disgruntled, had to admit that there was a reason why so many major brands wanted him as their model. He was handsome under the shitty lighting of the musty club last night, but here, with his hair and makeup carefully done despite the fluorescent lighting of the room, he was every synonym of the word beautiful combined into one person.

Blond strands of his hair brushed his chiseled features, and his eyes, curved attractively and framed with delicate long wisps of eyelashes, was intensely focused on your face. He looked ever like a marble statue, carved with attention and detail to be the most perfect specimen artistry could ever create. But he wasn’t perfect; that was what you knew. And that would also be what would you get just one step ahead of him.

You swept a piece of hair and tucked it behind an ear as you scanned your hastily scribbled notes. His eyes clung to that movement, as if he was mesmerized by your every action, and you peeked a look through your lashes. Your eyes met, and you forced a stiff smile.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you rolled your shoulders back into a proper posture, gingerly extending a hand out for him to take,” Good morning. It’s an honor to be able to do an interview with you.”

The edges of his lips tilted upward, and there was a playful glint in his eyes as his previous fiercely predatory state melted into the façade he put up in front of the public. He reached out and took your hand, throwing you off guard as he leaned in and pressed a tender kiss on the back of your hand.

“Likewise, it’s an honor to have an interview with you, (Y/n).’’

Yuck, you were going to have to wash your hands later. Anyways, what kind of person even kissed the back of people’s hands nowadays? This was the 21st century for fuck’s sake. You somehow kept your grimace to yourself.

You nervously laughed as you practically yanked your hand back out of his grasp. You casually wiped the back of your hand on the fabric of your skirt, disguising the movement as simply brushing off dust. Taehyung’s eyes didn’t leave any of your movements, and he laughed a little as he realized just what you were doing.

Oh, you were so interesting. You weren’t like the rest of them, the fans that threw themselves at him adoringly; hell, he was sure you weren’t even a fan. He was entranced. When he was close to you, the headaches seemed to fade; he didn’t want to drown himself in another body when he was with you. He didn’t want to kill when he was with you.

You ignored his burning gaze, breezing through the beginning parts of the interview. Finally, you reached the part that you had been anxiously preparing for.

“So, I heard that you’re trying out a new actor role. As a model and an artist and now an actor, we have to admit that your talents are incredibly versatile, Kim Taehyung-ssi.’’ You continued speaking. “Could you tell us a little more about this role?’’

“You flatter me too much, (Y/n).’’ He purposefully had left any formalities to the wind in this interview, a move that made you want to grind your teeth. “Yes, I was offered one of the leading roles in a new thriller movie. I’ll be acting as one of the charismatic but complex characters. I hope to show you and all of my fans a new side to Kim Taehyung.”

“Ah, a new side,’’ you nodded lightly,” Your new role as a charismatic serial killer who targets his admirers is certainly what many would call…complex. How do you go about preparing for such a twisted role?”

“Hmm…,’’ Taehyung’s lips curled up menacingly for a brief moment before fading away into a breezy smile,’’ It’s quite difficult to immerse myself into a role in which I have limited experience in, so I like to read through the script and make a map of what the character is like. What motivates him; what makes him so…complex, as you called it. I pretend to be like the character. How do I make myself think like him? That’s the question I like to try to find an answer to.”

“Ah, this is simply my personal opinion, but to truly play the character requires some true life experience…Is it possible that you’ve ever done anything similar to what the character has done in real life?”

A pin seemed to drop in that very moment from the silence that crowded the room. Everyone in the room froze and stared at you, their glances less than pleasant. You bore it all as you stared intently into his eyes. Slip up, you prayed, do something that will make you slip up. There was not even a brief soft sound in the 10 seconds that it took for Taehyung to respond.

He was rigid, the smile plastered on his face barely fading. Come on, you begged, expose yourself just a bit.

“Your response is lagging for just a bit, Kim Taehyung-ssi. It makes you seem guilty just a bit, doesn’t it?’’

He snapped out of it right then and there.

“I was simply contemplating my response. Your impatience is something not so befitting of a formal interview. To answer your question, isn’t a role just a role at the end of the day? If you think about it, I’m not the only person to have played a role like this. Many actors and actresses have done so without any thought of relating it to their real life. After all, a role is simply an imaginary self.”

You both stared into each other’s eyes, and you felt the gazes of other people around you burn into you.

You settled on a retreat. It was fine; this interview was just the first building block. You laughed lightly, throwing off the previous tense silence easily.

“Of course! We wouldn’t expect nothing but, right? We hope to see your talent truly shine through in this new role!’’

The tenseness in the room seemed to slip away right then, and the deathly gazes on you flitted away, like they were never there in the first place.

You let out a sigh as you left the interview room. God, that was terrifying, but you knew that you had to do what you had just previously done. What you had just done asserted the theory that you had. His company was hiding something about him, and that something was nothing less than downright horrific.

JK, you thought to yourself, I’m going to expose this story, just you wait.

“You weren’t just going to leave, huh?’’

You heard a familiar voice speak behind you, and you quickly spun around.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you forced out of your throat,’’ I believed you had already left.”

“I was going to, but I wanted to speak to you about the interview. The company rarely lets me do interviews, so it was really refreshing to have one done with you. We worked so well together, and I would like to thank you for the pleasant experience you had given me with dinner. You must be starving, right?’’

You had been starving earlier, but one word from Taehyung left your stomach churning in nausea.

“No!’’ your voice was a bit too loud, so you hastily softened it,’’ No, that’s not necessary. You don’t need to thank me.”

Taehyung took steps closer to you, and you unconsciously took a step back. Noticing your movements, he looked at you and flashed a grin that might’ve looked harmless to others but outright menacing to you.

“Are you scared of me?’’ his voice was almost like a purr. You fought back a shiver, straightening your back and looking him straight in the eyes.

“No,’’ you stabilized your voice, keeping a waver out of it,” Why would I be scared of you? You’re not some higher being than me just because you’re a celebrity. You’re human, after all. But, as you can see, I have work to do, so I will have to politely decline your offer.”

“You can have the rest of the day off.”

You spun around on your heels, your gaze colliding with Boss Kim’s. When did he arrive?

“Sir! Boss! No, if I skipped out on work, I’d be a burden to everyone. Besides, I—,’’ your voice was cut off by another voice.

“It’d be good to establish a positive relationship between your company and ours. Your boss would usually be the one to go to a dinner, but I believe he already has plans. Any work you were unable to fulfill today will be taken care of.”

The voice seemed to chill you to the bone. You turned to make eyes with a man. Was he…Taehyung’s manager? Although he was handsome, the kind of handsome that was comparable with Taehyung’s, something about him churned your stomach. While Taehyung was like a predator waiting to pounce on his prey, the man behind this voice was already sinking his teeth into the neck, wringing out the… You snapped out of your thoughts.

Snap out of it, you mentally scolded yourself.

“How about it?’’ Taehyung’s manager coldly smiled, his tone like glaciers.

You opened your mouth to try to refute, but with the burning gaze from your boss, you could only dip your head in a bow, your voice low.

“Thank you for the offer. I accept.”

They couldn’t kill you, right? It’d be too obvious.

You followed them out, and when you passed by Boss Kim, you made a panicked glance at him. What greeted you made you halt briefly in your pace.

When Boss Kim made eye contact with you, he patted your shoulder in what should’ve been reassurance. His lips spread out in a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Don’t disappoint me, hmm?’’

His words, spoken low and steady, left a chill in your veins as you kept walking, and the sliding doors of the elevator dinged close behind you, effectively trapping you with Taehyung and his manager.

You somehow made it out of the elevator and through the tense car ride alive. Now, you were seated next to Taehyung himself in the private room of a restaurant. Smoke rose from the grill, briefly obscuring your view of his manager from across you.

You tried to think positively of the situation. If Taehyung was drunk, maybe he’d slip up, but…you made a furtive glance at his manager from across the grill, slightly jolting when your eyes collided with his own. The fear that nearly overcame you made you nauseous.

“A drink?”

Taehyung’s voice broke the tense silence, and you turned to see him already raising his glass. You stiffly smiled, barely managing to keep the nervous twitch out of the curves of your lips.

“I don’t drink.”

“It’s impolite to decline a friendly offer. Come on, a toast to a wonderful…partnership.” Taehyung chuckled, raising his glass, as he leaned his chin onto the propped palm of his hand,” And we wouldn’t want a bad start to it.”

You were panicking by now, but you could imagine what Boss Kim would say if Taehyung’s company pulled out because of something so miniscule. You couldn’t afford to lose your job, not with the way you had fought tooth and nail to get your position; you wouldn’t last a month without your job or the meager protection it gave you.

You made your decision, a decision you would’ve done anything else but avoid, and tilted the glass up, clinking it against Taehyung’s glass. Turning away, you made it look like you were lightly sipping the drink, but you only allowed the liquid to slightly wet your lips. You set down the still-full glass and smiled pleasantly.

“I can only drink this much. Anymore, and I would experience terrible side effects.”

Taehyung didn’t seem even irked by your feeble attempt at pretending; instead, his eyes filled with amusement. He didn’t stop staring at you, and the threatening vibe of it caused you to unconsciously delve into your habit of gripping your glass of water and drinking it in an attempt to calm your nerves.

You placed the empty glass back down before resuming anxiously picking at your food. A pair of chopsticks—specifically Taehyung’s chopsticks—placed a piece of barbecued meat on your bowl of rice.

“Not feeling hungry? You need to eat. Skipping meals is bad for your health,’’ Taehyung beamed as he watched you carefully pick up the piece of meat and eat it. It would’ve been delicious any other time, but the churning in your gut made it taste like sand in your mouth. You dryly swallowed it.

“I’m heading to the restroom.”

You heard Taehyung’s manager speak in his flat tone, and you threw a skittish glance at him as he stood up and walked out of the private room, closing the door with a soft click behind him.

“Ah, now that that nuisance is out of the way, why don’t we talk more?’’ Taehyung’s tone was playful, and you flinched as he leaned closer to you, his breath brushing against the outer shell of your ear.

“Kim Taehyung-ssi,’’ you gritted the name through your teeth,” Please respect my personal space.”

He laughed lowly before he dropped a hand on your thigh. You were about to make a move to push him away, but your body suddenly felt tired, like you weren’t quite in control anymore.

“Come on, do what I say, and your little news company will do so much better. Your boss didn’t tell you this, but your company’s going bankrupt. One peep from me, and your company will rise in ranking, but I can only do that if I’m in a…happy mood.”

Taehyung pressed even closer to you, his nose against the curve of your neck as he inhaled your scent deeply in. His hands moved from his side and he ripped open the buttons of your shirt, groping your bra-covered tits. You let out an incoherent mumble in response, trying to flimsily kick at him.

Where was the waiter? Why was his manager taking so long? They planned this!

Disgust and heat coiled in your gut, but you were too dizzy to move. Something…that bastard…Did he spike your water? You were too careless, fuck. Taehyung moved one hand to tilt your chin up before his lips met yours. Despite how sloppy of a kiss it was, you could tell he was experienced, practically tasting every inner crevice of your soft mouth with his tongue, and you should’ve continued to be revolted, but whatever pill in your system had you melting into his mouth.

Taehyung seemed to sense the turmoil and conflict in you and the soft give of your will, and that seemed to make him even braver. He slid a hand up your skirt, his touch hot even through the fabric of your stockings, and you let out a startled moan against his lips, drool dribbling down the corners of your mouth. He pulled back, and you could barely see through the teary haze of your eyes. It had been too long since the last time you had a good fuck. You just wanted to be touched…wanted to be fucked so hard his cock would press against your womb.

“I just want to see you let go a bit, baby,’’ there was the triumph of domination in his voice. The sober part of you wanted to rebel, wanted to push and scream and kick him away, but you weren’t sober, weren’t clear-minded. Your legs spread as if begging for more of his touch.

He ripped his fingers through your stocking, and the material easily gave way underneath his strength. You could feel the damp spot on your panties, growing as he rubbed his fingertips against your drooling pussy. You shivered slightly in delirious pleasure as his finger rolled over your throbbing clit.

“Mmph!’’ you let out a sound as he pushed your soaked panties to the side and pushed his fingers deep into your pussy. You couldn’t object, not when your pussy was stretching with a spine-tingling ache around his fingers, and especially not when he begin to set a teasing pace. He pushed his fingers in, and you shut your eyes in shame as your moans grew louder.

Your toes curled as his movements grew faster, reaching deep into you, and you were so, so close. Oh my god you could feel…and you were cumming hard. Your walls shivered and twitched around his still moving fingers, and you murmured a dazed plea as he finally stilled and pulled his fingers out. You, still twitching from how hard you came earlier, were ashamed to see the way his fingers glistened with the remnants of your arousal and orgasm.

The sound of his pants being unclasped drew you out of your drugged state. No, he wasn’t going to…Come on, snap out of it, snap out of it.

He drew back closer again, and you sucked in a breath, trying to push through your daze. He leaned in. You managed to bring your arms up to the table, grabbing the nearest object that you could reach. Your trembling fingers closed around your nearly empty water glass, and you took it, raising it and smashing it as hard as you could over his head. Water, ice cubes, and glass shards struck as the glass broke. Taehyung, not expecting the blow, had a temporary moment of weakness, and you managed to push him off you.

You shoved yourself up onto shaky legs, wrapping the ripped blouse around your weakened body, and forced yourself into a run outside of the room. The hallway of the restaurant around the private rooms was empty, devoid of any person. You frantically looked over your shoulder, relieved that you didn’t see him coming after you. This was a public place, though it was late at night, and you knew Taehyung wouldn’t risk his perfect reputation. But still, you remembered his manager was still out there.

You couldn’t let them kill you…You had to survive! You broke into a blind run, ignoring the strange looks and the calls you got from the restaurant’s staff as you pushed out of the restaurant into the street. You kept running despite the dizziness of your mind, and you could barely see what was in front of you before…You crashed into someone, slamming into their body so hard that you were sent sprawling to the ground.

“Please…,’’ you choked out, your voice strangled, crying out a desperate plea as you grabbed onto their clothes,’’ Please help me.”

Your mind was dizzy, splotches of colors splattering your blurry vision. Your body had overexerted yourself, and you prayed that you wouldn’t end up a dead body on the news as your grip around the clothes went lip, and you collapsed into the road. Through the buzzing of your ears, you could hear a startled voice call out, feel a firm touch grab your shoulders and try to shake you awake. Some strange hope rose in you; maybe…maybe…?

You murmured desperately one last mumble, your words barely making sense, as you spiraled into unconsciousness.

“JK…please help me.”

A/N: if you want to be added to the taglist for the next part, reply with a ❤️. If you enjoyed the story, please leave a comment or a detailed review below <3

Next work will be a fic for Jungkook’s upcoming birthday. Poll will be released soon for what kind of plot it should have!

926 notes · View notes

seokmingiggles · 4 years ago

Text

clematis.

@merakiiverse requested on 210315: "Hihihi as sanlanchan's manager I would love to request a lyric song drabble prompt!! Can I request 31 with Woozi please? 💜"

Song lyric prompt 31: “When you called me, I became your flower.” BTS; Serendipity.

Find the rest of the prompts here!

Pairing: Lee Jihoon x gender neutral reader

Genre: fluff, mutual crushes, college!au if you squint.

1.04k words

No warnings.

“As much as my heart flutters, I’m just as afraid.”

Alternatively, Jihoon is the type of flower that blooms beneath your light. (And sometimes, that light happens even before the sun has risen.)

A/N: Hi, Meraki! Thank you for the request :D It turns out I went in a completely different direction after that day I asked you for your favourite flower. Anyways, I think the scenario that follows somewhat matches the lovely fic you wrote for me the other month. (I still think about that one a lot ;-; thank you again for writing that one for me, wah.) I hope it's okay !!! <3

Here is the song that I used to inspire this fic, along with its lyrics.

•• His phone lights up with a buzz from the side of his bed. Jihoon groans out, the light rousing him from whatever half-asleep state he'd previously been in—tossing and turning for most of the night, only recently finding comfort.

"Why–" the boy's voice croaks out before he clears his throat, eyes squinting when he picks up the device.

Are you awake? I'm hungryyy :((

Jihoon taps his thumbs rapidly: "I'm awake now," he mumbles as he sends his message.

His hands fall to the side of his head, eyes slowly closing once more until he feels the vibration of an incoming call on his palm.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Ji, sorry to have woken you," your voice is somewhat hushed across the line.

"It's fine," the boy says despite his forehead creasing, "I'm awake now. Is everything okay?"

He hears you hum as you think.

"Yeah, I'm okay," you begin, "I just can't sleep. And I'm hungry. And, maybe," you draw the word out, "if you're awake too, would you like to come over?"

Every ounce of exhaustion weighing Jihoon down and into his mattress screams out, No, but the soft lilt of your voice raising at the end of your question allows him to say, "Sure," without faltering.

No one else, the boy thinks to himself as he walks across the campus paths and in the direction of your dorms, could allow me to leave the comfort of my duvet at nearly four in the morning.

Well, maybe Soonyoung, his other best friend, could, too. (Although tonight isn't about him.)

The wind at dawn ruffles through Jihoon's hair, already tousled with sleep. Goosebumps tingle along the back of his neck; he pulls his coat tighter around his torso. The sky already seems like it's become lighter with the passing time—soon, the beginnings of the sunrise will emerge from behind the campus buildings.

In no time, Jihoon arrives at your dorm—only a tall door separating him from seeing you. He sends a quick text as a quieter option to knocking.

The door handle slightly rattles before it opens to reveal you: eyes lighting up and a beaming smile already plastered on your face at your greeting.

"Hi," he replies; a small giggle erupts from Jihoon's throat at your eagerness to usher him inside your room. "You're lucky your roommate is away, or else you wouldn't be able to get away with things like this."

"I know," your hand finds your friend's wrist in a gentle clutch as you make your way over to your small couch, fingertips buzzing as you let go of him shortly after.

"Why can't you sleep? Have you slept at all tonight?"

You nod, "I did, but I woke up craving something sweet, so–"

"So you ate—what are those?—chocolates? In the middle of the night?" Jihoon eyes the colourful bag in your grasp, "You know those have caffeine in them, right–"

"I know, I couldn't help myself! I forgot to put them away so there they were: in sight on my desk. And, of course, I couldn't just have one–"

"Why am I here?"

"So you can finish these for me!"

Jihoon exchanges a glance from you to the bag of bite-sized chocolates in your outstretched hand.

When you called him—

"Please?" you add with a smile.

—he became your flower.

Jihoon shakes his head, trying his best to fight the small grin forming upon his lips (but failing miserably at hiding his amusement before you can notice).

You nearly coo at the colour rising to the boy's cheeks.

As if he's drawn to your radiance, your sunshine you beam upon him, Jihoon blooms and opens up another side of himself. It's to you and only you—the place where he can show his true colours, the different petals that make up his exterior; what lies beneath those petals: his soft centre that's more sensitive than he'd openly admit.

Before he knows it, Jihoon has his hand reached inside the bag of chocolates, grabbing a few of the colourful discs in his fist and popping them into his mouth.

I don't even like chocolate very much, especially not at four in the morning.

You lean back with a deep exhale after rambling on about some late-night thought that the boy wouldn't be able to repeat back to you.

It's not that he's not listening to you—your voice calms him, eases him; soft intonations match the dim lighting from a nearby streetlamp illuminating the paths outside.

Something feels different.

Something in the air—something about being in your presence, perhaps—or maybe it's because the sun is beginning to become seen from outside your window: a physical, visible shift before his eyes.

Jihoon allows himself to look over at you as you look out the window.

You're pressed into the backing of the couch, head leaning back and eyes gazing off at nothing in particular. The remnants of a smile could be tasted on your lips.

Along with chocolate, I'm sure, Jihoon mulls over—but no, why is he again thinking about what would be evident on your lips when he knows you don't feel the same way about him–

"Jihoon?"

"Hm?" The boy's heart nearly lurches out of his chest.

"You're staring again."

"Oh—sorry—I just– I think I'm tired, that's all," he shrugs his thoughts away, disposing them along with the disappearing moon.

You lightly chuckle at Jihoon's blatant awkwardness. He may not be the best at conveying what he truly feels, but that doesn't mean you don't find him endearing throughout it all. Other late nights, similar to this, he's always come over after you've called him or sent him a quick message.

The two of you understand each other. Words aren't a necessity—even now, as you and Jihoon bask in the slow ascent of the sun, perhaps akin to sunflowers, facing the rising rays.

You turn to face Jihoon, who is already peering at you with the most gentle of smiles.

His facial features are round, reminding you of a flower whose name does nothing but reside on the tip of your tongue, too far from reach for you to spill from your lips and wash him in your words.

Instead, whichever flower it is—you're positive it captures Jihoon perfectly—you keep it to yourself.

••

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pascalpanic · 4 years ago

Text

Blood, Sweat, and Tears (Javier Peña x f!Reader)- Chapter Eight

Summary: You wake up somewhere different from where you fell asleep. Once you figure out what happened, someone’s getting their ass kicked. Additionally, Javier wakes up.

W/C: 3.5k (I got carried away)

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, LANGUAGE holy shit language, Steve is a patronizing asshole but he means well

A/N: AAAAA this chapter was really fun to write you guys. I decided this series is going to have 10 chapters and an epilogue. We’re approaching the end and that’s so crazy! Thank you all for sticking around with me!!! I have a new Javier fic series coming soon, titled Caffeine Rush, and I’m SO excited for it! In the meantime, let’s figure out where our dear reader woke up, shall we?

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You frantically look around the room you woke up in, terrified and confused. It’s dark, a sliver of moonlight coming in through the crack in the curtains. The alarm clock on a bedside table next to you reads that it’s 3:38, clearly at night, since it’s so dark. There’s a lamp behind it and you flip it on, uncovering the room to your eyes. It’s still unfamiliar, but you look at the other night stand and things start to shift into place.

On the small table sits a framed photo of two blonde-haired and blue-eyed people, hugging each other: you’re in Steve and Connie’s bedroom, in their bed. You rush out of the bed, flipping on the light. In the mirror, you discover that you’re wearing a large t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Your hair is tied in a colorful scrunchie. You have no recollection of getting in these clothes or getting here, which makes you realize that Steve or Connie must’ve been the one to change you from your bloodstained scrubs and take you here.

Exiting the bedroom, you walk into the apartment itself to find that neither of them are there with you. Javier’s denim jacket and your purse are sitting on the kitchen table. You pull the jacket on, grab your purse, and storm out of the apartment, down the steps and out of the building. You’re on a mission at this point, enraged that they’d remove you from Javier’s side, specifically without your consent. You murmur angrily under your breath as you make your way back to the hospital.

When you arrive, you shove the doors open and make your way up to the proper floor. The other nurses clear from your path as you stalk through the halls.

You find Lorena as you enter the break room, and she looks relieved to see you. “Did you rest alright?” she asks, concerned, and puts her coffee down on the table she’s sitting at.

“Did you let them do this?” you ask her, less enraged as her presence remains calm.

She shakes her head. “They took you before I could do anything about it. Steve brought you out and drove you to their place, then Connie told me about it. I wasn’t exactly happy that they did it but I figured you needed some rest, so it sounded like a good idea.”

“They could’ve fucking told me!”

“You wouldn’t have gone. Come on, we all know that.”

“Doesn’t make it alright.” You turn and leave the room, determined to go check on Javier now.

Outside of Javier’s room, Steve sits in an office chair and reads a book. He hears you approaching and his neutral expression tinges with fear when he sees your face. “Has he woken up yet?” You ask, hands on your waist to prevent yourself from grabbing his shirt and shaking him until his blue eyes burst from their sockets.

“Twice. He was barely conscious for either of them, though,” he admits, not meeting your eyes.

“How dare you, Murphy?” you hiss, stepping closer.

He doesn’t dare to tell you that it isn’t his fault, that Connie was the one who asked him to do it. She changed you into Javier’s spare clothing and tied your hair up, and Steve brought you to the car and into their apartment. It doesn’t matter; Connie doesn’t need your wrath right now. She’s already spent most of the night crying. “You needed it.”

:Yes, I needed rest, but this was not the way to do it. Not without telling me, taking me somewhere without my knowing. Javier needs me, and-”

“Javier is asleep,” Steve says firmly. “He can’t need you when he’s not conscious. Plus, look around. This hospital is full of competent nurses.”

“I know him best of the nurses, Steve. You are not my father, you don’t get to make choices like that for me, like I’m some toddler.”

“You’re acting like one.”

You feel the rage pooling inside you, but it all dissipates as you look up and through the window and find a pair of dark brown eyes looking at you and Steve. “He’s not asleep, turns out,” you grumble and enter the room, smiling softly.

Javier smiles back at you. “Hi.”

“Hey,” you practically whisper and gravitate towards him.

“You looked sexy yelling at Steve like that.”

You genuinely laugh at his words and shakes his head. “I think I’m physically incapable of looking sexy right now.”

“No, really. I like your jacket,” he tells you teasingly with a dazed smile, and you chuckle as you look down at yourself. “And your clothes… are they all mine?”

You look closely at the clothes and realize that they are. “Connie changed my clothes while I was sleeping,” you chuckle. “I wanted to be here when you woke up, but they took me to their apartment to rest.” You sit on the edge of the bed, and he reaches up for your face but you take his hand and hold it in both of yours. “I’m sorry I wasn’t here the last few times you woke up.”

Javier chuckles softly, then winces at the pain it causes. “I can’t even remember them, so that’s okay,” he tells you with a soft smile, his voice gravelly from the sleep.

You bite your lip, your heart breaking at the pain he’s clearly in. You shed his jacket and bend down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” you tell him softly, your thumb stroking the back of his hand.

“I had the best nurse in Colombia to help me,” he tells you and you smile and kiss his knuckles gently.

“How are you feeling?” You ask into his fingers.

“It hurts,” he admits in a small voice, his other hand tracing the incision across his abdomen.

You nod at that, letting his hand rest on the bed, both of yours still clasping it. “At least you’ll have a badass scar,” you tease softly, and he smiles up at you, not bothering to laugh, not wanting the accompanying pain. His pupils are slightly wide; it’s an indication he’s not fully clear of the pain medication’s hold on him. You’re silent for a moment, simply looking at each other and glad the other is there. “What do you remember?” you ask, pushing his hair back from his forehead.

“Not much,” he shrugs. “Murphy and I were on the street to find an informant who told us to meet him there, and then there was a bang and I started to feel how much it hurt.” He gulps and looks down at the incision, though he can’t see it through his hospital gown. “Then I was in the ambulance, and then I saw you.” He smiles and you chuckle, a small smile tugging at your cheeks. “You looked like an angel.”

You bite down on your lip and look down as you remember what else he told you. He’d tell you now, you think, if he remembered it. But he doesn’t.

The door opens and Steve walks in. You squeeze his hand lightly, not wanting to look at the man you just berated so aggressively. “Hey, Javi,” Steve says softly.

“What the fuck did you do to make her so angry?” He asks, sitting up a little and wincing at the pain he feels in his abdomen.

“Javi-”

“No, what the fuck did you do?” he asks, clearly pissed off at him. “Because it was something shitty; no one just snaps like that, especially not her. What was it?” The medications make emotions more volatile, more subject to a quick change, but you didn’t expect this from him.

You bite your lip and shake your head. “It’s okay, Javi,” you tell him and gently press him down until his back meets the hospital bed again. He seems to relax under your touch. You swallow and tell him the story, an abridged version of it at least.

“How dare you, Murphy?” Javier asks, in just the same tone as you did a few minutes earlier, and it makes Steve chuckle a little. He struggles up against your hand, trying to fully sit up “What, you think that’s funny? You fuckin’ c-”

“Javier,” you say sharply and continue to hold him against the bed. “Relax. It’s alright now, it’s all okay.”

The effort sitting up took shows on his face and in the way his body relaxes against the bed. “Okay,” he says warily, still looking at Steve with a little suspicion.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Javier,” Murphy simply says and leaves the room, closing the door behind him.

The fact that Javi’s awake and seems to be able to stay awake is calming to you. “I’ve had a long day,” you admit with a chuckle. “I’d really like to go take a shower. I’ll get Connie or Lorena to come sit with you, and then I’ll come back?” You offer to him.

He shakes his head. “Send Steve back in. Go shower, hermosa,” he tells you with a smile.

You nod and start to stand but he clutches your hand. “Before you go…” he sits up a little and presses a kiss to your forehead, then falls back against the pillow. He grunts from the effort it took. “Thank you.”

It warms your heart, makes you melt a little. “Cualquier cosa para ti, Javi,” you tell him gently and kiss his hand before dropping it. “Are you hungry? We can’t really give you solids yet, but I’d get you a Jell-O or something,” you offer.

He shakes his head. “No. Thank you, though.”

You nod with a soft smile and exit the room. The smile falls as you see Steve again. “I’m going to go shower. He wants you,” you tell him. You look down at the cigarette he’s smoking and frown a little. “Whatever you do, don’t let him smoke.” You walk past him and head to the nurses’ bathrooms.

Steve enters a few moments later.

“Cigarette?” Javier asks him.

“You practically got stabbed, Javier. No smoking while you’re in here,” he tells him, but slips him a piece of nicotine gum. Javier chews it and sighs at the release that comes from it. “Why did you want me?” He asks.

Javier looks away, out of the window to the outside world. “Were you with me the whole time?” he asks him.

Steve shakes his head. “No. Connie took over, made sure I wasn’t too fucked up. Got stitches,” he chuckles and points to his forehead. “She didn’t let me get discharged until she was sure every bandaid was in place.”

Javier nods. “Tell me everything that happened,” he asks, still staring away from him. Not wanting to meet his eyes when he makes a request from him.

Steve nods. “Well, let’s see. The bomb went off and a big piece of somethin’ went into your abdomen. Connie said it went between your ribs and it almost hit the liver, but just missed. It hit a big vein or somethin’ like that, I don’t really know, and you lost a lot of blood. Ambulance brought us here. Connie took me as soon as we got to the hospital. You were in surgery for a coupla’ hours. That all happened yesterday, technically. It’s ‘bout 4 A.M. now. You slept a long time, now we’re here.”

Javier nods at the story, chewing his gum and sighing at how nice the mint feels after the terrible feeling in his mouth that follows hours and hours of sleep. “Gotcha. When I was fucked up… did I say anything? To you, to anyone…” he trails off. It’s referring to you.

Steve nods. “Uh, yeah. The girls told me that you said you loved her, quite a few times. Called her your angel, with the whole light above the head thing,” he says and gestures to the top of his head. “Uh… she called in Lorena, and you thought she said Lorraine, so you started panicking.”

Javier’s eyes widen and he finally looks back at Steve. “What did you tell her about Lorraine?”

“Nothing, nothing. Just that she was your ex. Nothing about the whole wedding fiasco.”

Javier sighs at that, reassured. “Thank fucking Christ,” he nods and rubs his face with his hands. “Did anything else happen?”

She told you that she loves you too, Steve thinks, but he realizes he’s not really at liberty to tell him that. “No, that was about it. I brought her to our place and she slept for a little while. She… she cares a lot about you, Javi. She was about to fuckin’ castrate me before she saw you were awake.”

Javier smiles a little at the image, you in his clothes and absolutely roasting Steve. It made him a little proud, he had to admit. “Thank you. For making her rest,” he tells him finally.

Steve nods. “She needed it. She might be pissed about it now but that was the only way she’d rest properly.”

“She’s a stubborn one.”

“Suits you.”

“Shut the fuck up, Murphy.”

“You said it first.”

The two men smile softly at each other. They’re both exhausted; it’s evident in their eyes. “Go home and get some rest. Better yet, tell the bastards at the embassy about this.”

“Oh, they already know, Javi.” Steve chuckles. “The explosion was at 7:30 in the mornin’ yesterday. That’s about a day ago now,” he reminds him. “They say to worry about the injury first and Escobar later.”

“Easy for them to say. They barely even think in the first place, much less about Escobar,” Javier grumbles. “If you go to the apartment, will you bring some of my files?”

Steve raises an eyebrow. “You really think I’m going to say yes to that?”

Javi groans as he readjusts himself, his rear end growing sore. “Worth a shot. Go home, Steve. I’ve got the girls here to take care of me.”

Steve nods a little. “Maybe I will. What else can I bring you from your apartment?” he asks. “I have four things I won’t bring you: cigarettes, booze, files, or condoms,” he teases and counts them off on his fingers. “You two can fuck when you’re all healed.”

Javier rolls his eyes at Steve. “At least some nicotine patches or gum then, if you won’t let me smoke.”

“Hey, her orders, not mine,” Steve says and raises his hands defensively as he stands. “Rest well, kid,” Steve tells him as he leaves the room.

“I’m older than you, you bastard,” Javier calls after him, and he hears Steve chuckle lightly as the door closes.

A bit after Steve leaves Javier’s room, you finish your shower and dry your body with a towel. Lorena keeps a small set of her own shower products in her locker, and gave them to you so you didn’t have to use the shitty, hospital-provided 6-in-1 soap. You feel refreshed as you dress in the only clothes available for you: one of Steve’s hoodies, with some American college’s logo plastered across the front, and Javier’s sweatpants. You tie your hair up with the same scrunchie as before and sigh as you look in the mirror.

Your eyes are bloodshot and deeply sunken from the amount of tears they’ve shed in the past 24 hours. There are dark bags beneath them, puffy and heavy, and they only emphasizing how pronounced the veins in your eyes are. You nearly start crying again from how shitty you look, but hold back. You brush your teeth with a disposable toothbrush, sighing at how good it feels to be clean.

Once you finish, you put the items back in Lorena’s locker and chug a coffee in the break room. You haven’t eaten much today, besides the snacks Steve brought earlier, but the coffee is all you need. It feels good as it warms you from the inside out.

At this point, you’re technically off-shift, and it should be after visiting hours, but none of your coworkers comment on this as you walk to Javier’s room. They simply pat your shoulder or give you some words of reassurance.

You throw away your coffee as you stand outside his room. His eyes are shut, and for a moment you worry that he fell back asleep, but they open when he hears the door. He sees you and smiles softly, reaching out a hand to you. “Mi ángel,” he calls and you smile, sitting on the side of the bed.

“Hi,” you chuckle and trace his face softly. “Would you like it if I washed your face? It’s been a long day. That shower felt nice, and I can’t really get you in there yet, but maybe you’d-”

Javier cuts you off. “I’d like that.”

You nod and go to his room’s little bathroom, filling a basin with warm water and a little soap. You place a towel in it and bring it out, sitting on the side of his bed again.

The towel is soaking, and you lightly wring it out over the bucket before wiping down Javier’s face. His pupils have shrunk to a regular size again; he must be back to a proper consciousness by now. He smiles at the touch and you’re so close you notice his breath is minty. Odd, until you remember- you chuckle softly. “Steve snuck you some Nicorette.”

“You weren’t supposed to find out,” he says, his beautiful eyes looking up at you.

“You’re not the only one trained to be observant, Peña,” you tease softly. “You take down narcos, I psychologically evaluate my patients.” “And what are you finding out about me?” he asks, a hand on each side of your waist.

“That you’re a desperate flirt, even when you’re coming back from the edge of death.”

“Damn, you are good.” You laugh softly as you finish wiping his face, behind his ears, and his neck, placing the towel back in the basin and setting it on the bedside table. You take his face in both your hands and smile down at him, and Javier’s smile widens. “I meant it earlier. You really are my angel. Saved my life,” he mumbles, your faces closer together as he sits up a little.

“I’m no angel,” you shake your head and look down softly, your hands still cupping his face.

“Oh, I know that,” he chuckles gently, just lightly enough that it doesn’t upset his wound. “Mi ángel. Mía.”

“Javi,” you whimper softly and pout, smiling even though your eyes water.

He finally closes the gap between your lips, kissing you softly and chastely. It lasts just a moment, but it’s perfect. He breaks away and whispers your name softly, and you rest your head in the curve of his neck. “I know I was looped up as fuck when I said it,” he tells you, “but I did mean it. I love you.”

You lift your head, the tears now dropping from your eyes. “I love you too, Javi. So much, so so much,” you admit through a watery voice. “Can you- do you think it would hurt you if I hugged you?” you ask, looking down at the area where his incision is.

“Try it. Can’t hurt much worse than it does now.”

You wrap your arms around his neck, and he wraps his around your waist. It doesn’t matter that it does hurt when he presses your chest to his. The pain is nothing when you have your arms around him, when you’re holding him and he’s holding you.

“Here,” he says and scoots over in the bed. There’s space for you, and you lie down next to him in the bed. You drape an arm over his chest, making sure it’s above the deep wound. He wraps an arm around you and pulls you against him, snuggling you into his side. You smile softly, your head resting on his pec. It’s cozy, cuddled up with him. With the man you’ve spent the past day in absolute agony over.

“I love you so much,” you murmur to him, your tears falling onto his hospital gown.

“I love you too, mi ángel,” Javier mumbles into your damp hair, pressing a kiss to your scalp.

It’s calming. You can hear his heart thump in his chest, his lungs inhaling and exhaling in a low and smooth pattern. His chest vibrates as he speaks. It’s perfect. “Will you stay here? Fall asleep with me?” he asks, almost shyly.

“Oh god, yes,” you chuckle a little. “Please.”

“Well, goodnight then,” he murmurs to you and kisses your head once more. “I love you.”

“Goodnight, Javi. I love you too.” Even though you just chugged a coffee, it takes no time at all to fall asleep in Javier’s arms.

Translations:

Cualquier cosa para ti- anything for you

Mía- mine

- Taglist:

@diogodxlot @wonderlandgabby @yooforia @blo0dangel @sara-alonso @dodgerandevans @pedrosmustache @mishasminion360 @fruit-of-my-hoechloins @tanyaherondale @marydjarin @softly-sad @binarydanvvers @obsessivelysearching

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javi peña #javi peña x reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #narcos #narcos fanfic #steve murphy #blood sweat and tears #pascalpanic

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brunos-beloved · 4 years ago

Note

I really love your Fugo x reader fics and I was wondering if I could maybe a request something a bit fluffy with a reader who has a crush on Fugo and really likes his stand and is really patient and gentle with Purple Haze and just wants to show him love to calm him down? Perhaps the reader has a stand that could handle the virus but maybe Fugo doesn't know that too much and is scared for their safety? Sorry if this isn't very clear, I know anything you do will be great though! 🥺❤

calm : fugo pannacotta x reader

word count: 1.5k

summary: gentle reader comforts Fugo through his anger.

(sorry i didn’t really include purple haze in this one, i kinda just had an idea and went with it)

—✧—

His anger didn’t make you uncomfortable, even in times maybe it should’ve. Fugo didn’t scare you, nor his stand, and you don’t think either of them ever could, even with a rage as seething and escalating as his. This was because despite his misgivings, you trusted and cared for him, all of him, and as you fought alongside Passione, those facts only seemed to grow more true.

“Fugo,” You grabbed his attention, using it as a way to warn him of your intervention. From earlier times you’d found the boy didn’t quite like being touched, mostly by surprise, the last time a curious hand had sneaked onto his shoulder nearly sent him reeling, a tight hand on your wrist in a millisecond, a fire in his eyes. But upon realizing it was just you, a person he trusted, the blonde settled, and apologized sheepishly. Although you hoped that this time, with warning and caution, he wouldn’t mind, or at least wouldn’t be so startled. The thought of someone rejecting your touch pained you, but leaving someone in need of comfort without even an offer was far more worrying. Reacting to your softly stern voice, the blonde looked your way, frustration still creasing his features. You held his eyes and pushed a palm onto his shoulder blade. Awaiting a harsh reaction that never came, you continued, and rubbed a small circle into his back. “You seem really stressed, this isn’t worth losing your head over.” Stress was a guess, the evidence the redness on the edge of his eyes and the bags that had settled underneath them. “Give it a rest and take a break alright?”

“But I...we weren’t even close to being finished this chapter. If I stop now-”

“Fugo, you need to stop now. You’re burnt out enough.” You sent him a small smile as he held onto your kind eyes. You were always so gentle towards him, Fugo wondered if he even deserved such treatment, then thought you probably just looked at everybody that way. You were soft, calm, and nearly always composed, everything he wasn’t. A soft hum brought him from his thoughts. “How about this...You take a break tonight, and if you really need to finish this chapter with Narancia I’ll finish it for you! Math was actually my best subject after all. I’ll probably even remember some of it...“ A broken smile made its way to Fugo’s lips, trying to imagine the two of you seriously studying Math together. Narancia was childish, and though you were quite mature he brought out the kindred spirit in you with his own childishness. He could see you teaching Narancia some things, but then quickly trailing off and suddenly Math Class became random tangents and bubbly discussion. Not much would get done, but at least something might. Fugo leaned into the table, an elbow down and a hand in his hair. The exhaustion that shone through his pose worried you to no end, and you let out a sigh. “I’d get you espresso, but you need sleep not caffeine.“

“It’s eight, I don’t think sleep is quite an option yet., madre” You narrowed your eyes at him, a hand still behind him, the expression would’ve made him chuckle if he hadn’t been so weighed down by the sudden fatigue. The moment he’d stopped yelling and chasing everything seemed to slowly crash within him.

“Tea it is then.“

Your determination knew no bounds. Though Fugo forced himself to remain awake, you brewed him a chamomile tea, and quite a strong one. Chamomile was a herb known for making yourself drowsy at night, a trick you used when sleep didn’t seem like an option. The night sky was still a navy blue, but began to descend into its usual rich black, the moon shining through. You’d dragged Fugo to the terrace along with a couple blankets, sharing an outdoor sofa there. With soothingly warm cups of tea in hand, the steam warming your cold noses, the two of you discussed topics of utmost importance. When Fugo started to drift the conversation over Narancia, you switched it to the origin of Chamomile, anger didn’t go nicely with sleep, which was your hidden goal in the end after all. Though you watched his violet eyes blink more and more often, watched his eyelids grow heavier and heavier, so did your own. And with passing time you realized Fugo’s determination to stay awake was much fiercer than your own. Despite everything though you continued on, chatting around and giggling about the tiny things the both of you were irritated by:

“His shoes? Really Fugo now you’re reaching-”

“He’s short enough to be an elf y/n how do you not see it!”

Trailing off and giving up on finding reason to such a statement, you burst into the chuckle you’d been trying to hold back. It seemed to Fugo, even something as innocent as Narancia’s shoes and height had become a problem. Though, you could tell it was not only lighthearted, but that Fugo had crossed the line of exhaustion where a person’s filter was completely lost and got rambly. But you didn’t miss the yawn that escaped him while you snickered at the diss. Your yawn followed his, and you stared into his violet eyes for a moment. The moonlight brushed his cheeks and ran through his hair, strawberry earrings swaying at the breeze.

“Are you tired?” You whispered, the trance broken between the two of you. He murmured something along the lines of not wanting to go the his room yet, though the dark tint under his eyes betrayed him. You hesitated, “You can lay down if you like,” The blonde rose a brow, quietly hoping the lack of room didn’t mean your departure. But when you patted your blanketed thighs he understood, blood rushing to his cheeks. “It’s almost a pillow, a lot more comfortable than sitting up.” You prayed, prayed he didn’t laugh or scoff. The pause made you nervous, but he replied before you could take back the offer.

“I couldn’t...Then you’d be sitting.” Fugo kicked himself for considering the offer and turning it over so many times in his mind. He wanted to, his tired back ached to, but Fugo wasn’t used to any kind of affection, and dejecting it seemed the easiest for his pride. But a smile rose to your kind face, and he was once again filled with uncertainty.

“I don’t mind, really. You look like you need it.” The expression on your face made his heart pound, the boy stared. Eventually Fugo sighed, and his frantic mind finally surrendered, the chamomile aiding his tired conscious to just accept it. He gulped and mumbled in agreement, slowly sinking into the comfort of your lap. Your own heart quickened at the sight, watching the tension leave the troubled teen. Your fingers hesitantly landed on his golden hair, running through the waves as the boy sighed in relief underneath your touch, you couldn’t help but smile and stare.

The night went on, the sky dark enough to show a fuller potential of its stars. You hummed, still running caring hands through Fugo’s hair. Your heart nearly sunk as he shifted, face looking up at you. He’d dozed off only ten minutes or so, the thought brought a small frown to your face. Though when he didn’t sit up, you heart rose again. After a bit of silence,

“Why are you so nice to me?” You were slightly taken aback, did you really need a reason to be? You supposed that was just how Fugo’s brain worked. Not being able to take without giving or losing and vice versa, you wondered if he always badgered himself for reasoning in scenarios that felt natural like this. Must everything follow rules, must everything have consequence? Your tired mind wished against it.

“Because, I care about you, lots actually.” The raise in his brow and widened eyes made you heart throb, a blush settled on his cheeks again as you stroked his hair, a thumb brushing lightly across his freckles.

“Wh...why?” You almost chuckled at that.

“Well I was hoping you cared for me too but...” Before Fugo could panic at the supposed misunderstanding and sit up, you placed a hand on his chest. You couldn’t muster the words to explain yourself, at least not yet. You settled for holding his cheek, and leaving a peck on his temple. The action was performed as graceful as possible, as not to startle him, but on the inside you were practically vibrating. “Let’s sleep now, alright?” He seemed stunned, and you burned the cute expression into your memories before pulling away further, and leaning back into the arm of the chair. “Buona notte, Fugo.” You got a quiet response, but a response no less, falling asleep on the terrace with the boy you cherished and managed to soothe.

—✧—

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daveeddiggsit · 4 years ago

Text

No Return

Note: so this is not a new fic. i actually posted it back in 2017 (but deleted all my smut from this blog about a year afterwards haha we love being impulsive). but i’m over myself now, so i’m reposting! a lot of you have been asking about it, so... here you go. posted for all of y’all to enjoy again.

Word Count: 4.7k

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader

Warnings: smut. cursing.

Summary: Diggs loses a bet which results in him owing you a lap dance.

Parties at Rafa’s place were always the best; the drinks were great, the music was amazing, the atmosphere was never dull, but the best part about them were the incredible people that made up each one; you were never bored. There was always something to do whether you were talking to people, dancing, playing drinking games, or just drinking in general. And that’s why whenever you were told that there was going to be a party at Rafael Casal’s apartment, you never turned it down...even if you ended up showing up late.

“Well, look at who finally decided to show up.” You heard a familiar voice say as you walked through the door to Rafa’s place. Daveed grinned widely at you before he slid an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to him as you walked deeper into the apartment. “My favorite!”

Daveed was one of your closest friends and if you were being honest, it would have been a lie if you said you didn’t want him to become something more than that. The two of you often flirted and were constantly together (these occurrences happened so often that there were many times people believed you were dating), but neither of you had made a real move. You knew how you felt toward him, and he was giving you signs that he felt the same way, but no true actions were made by either party. So that’s why it stayed the way it was between you two: just close friends who often flirted with each other.

“Aw, I’m your favorite?” You asked, raising your voice so he could hear you over the loud music that was pumping through Rafa’s speakers.

“Uh, yeah,” he stated as if it was obvious, “but don’t tell anyone else. It’s a secret between you and me.” He whispered in your ear as you entered the kitchen.

Yeah, he had definitely downed a few drinks before you got here.

“Diggs, I’m pretty sure everyone heard you when you shouted it.” You laughed as you plucked the cup half-full of alcohol from his grasp, draining it of its contents. He pouted at you once you handed him back an empty cup.

“Y/N, hey! It’s been forever since I’ve seen you!” Adrienne said from beside Rafa who was pouring out a few drinks.

“Hey!” You pulled away from Daveed’s grasp to give her a hug. She’d been away in Canada for the last few weeks shooting for a new project she was working on. “I’ve missed you! Why’d you have to leave me alone to deal with these boys for so long?”

Adrienne laughed while Rafael furrowed his eyebrows.

“Oh, so you didn’t miss me? I see how it is, Y/N, I see how it is.” He feigned hurt, before pushing a couple of newly filled cups towards you and Daveed.

You rolled your eyes at him. “We had lunch a few days ago, Cash, it hasn’t been that long since I’ve seen you.”

“But so much has changed since then.”

You chuckled before taking a sip. “Like what? Did you finally finish that song you’ve been working on?”

“No.” Rafael replied before he smiled at Adrienne beside him. “Unlike Diggs, I am no longer a single and lonely Bay Boy.”

Daveed’s eyebrows furrowed as he cocked his head. “Yo, who said I was lone—?”

“You guys are finally together? Oh my god, congrats!” You cut in with widened eyes.

They both grinned at each other before Rafa leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“Aww,” you gushed, “you two are couple goals already.”

A few seconds passed before you felt Daveed’s arm drape around your shoulders again.

“You know, we could be couple goals too.” He said, looking down at you with a smirk.

You rolled your eyes, pushing him away. “Ha, you wish, Diggs.”

You laughed it off because you knew he was too tipsy to be serious. He always flirted with you like this, but why did this time feel so different?

A few drinks later, you were beginning to feel the familiar light-hearted, buzzing feeling course throughout your body, giving you a boost of energy. You had drifted away from Daveed and Rafa to roam through the house and catch up with people you hadn’t seen since your Hamilton days. You were talking with Adrienne and Ari when you heard your name being called from behind you.

“Aye, Y/L/N!”

You turned your head to see Daveed standing next to a table a few feet away.

“Diggs!” You responded in the same playful tone.

He grinned at you before waving you over. “Come play Flip Cup with me.”

“Really?” You quirked an eyebrow. “You lose every time you play against me, D.”

“I’m feeling confident today. I’ve been practicing.”

You tried not to laugh as you rose from your seat and approached him. “Practicing?”

“Bruh,” Rafa snickered at his friend from the other end of the table. “You played a few games before this and won two in a row. That ain’t practicing.”

You let a smug grin show up on your face as you glanced back up at your best friend. “Daveed, I am the queen of Flip Cup, okay? You can’t beat me. Nobody ever has, and nobody ever will. That’s a fact.”

“I’m pretty sure I can beat you today, Y/N.” He said bluntly. Wow, he was forward when he was drunk. “I have a good feeling about this.”

“Ha,” you huffed out a laugh, “wanna bet?"

“What do you propose, oh mighty Queen of Flip Cup?”

You thought for a second. What was something you knew would make him think twice about challenging you? Something that would make him step down from this newfound cockiness he embodied.

When the idea formed in your head, you sent him a sly grin. “Winner gets a lap dance from the loser.”

You distinctly remembered an earlier conversation with him where he stated that he couldn’t dance. You knew it was untrue due to the times you’d seen him dance at the club or during some of the numbers in Hamilton, but you also knew that the wager wasn’t something he’d necessarily jump on (despite the confidence boost the alcohol had supplied him).

Rafa led the mini crowd that had formed around you in a chorus of “ooo”s.

“Deal.”

You looked up at Daveed in surprise. You hadn’t expected him to agree to the terms so easily.

“Diggs, that means if you lose— sorry, when you lose, you have to give me a lap dance.”

“I know.” He said seriously.

“And you’re good with that?”

“If it happens, which it won’t because I’m gonna win, then yes.” He stated, his mouth forming into a confident smile. “I’m good with that.”

Fine, he wanted a challenge? You were going to give him one.

“Alright, then.” You said, narrowing your eyes at him. “Game on."

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

Daveed lost. Badly.

So badly, in fact, that you actually felt bad for him. So you tweaked it so it was the best out of five games...and even then, he still lost.

Oh well, it’s not like you didn’t warn him.

When the third game ended and Daveed realized his defeat, he threw his head back and groaned.

“Aww, don’t be such a sore loser. You lost fair and square, Diggs. ” You teased with a smile, wrapping your arms around his torso to hug him from behind. “I warned you. I told you I was the queen of Flip Cup, but you didn’t listen.”

“Those cups were rigged, Y/N.” He stated, turning around in your grasp so he could hug you back.

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Say whatever you want to make yourself feel better. Nothing’s gonna change the fact that you owe me a lap dance.”

He was quiet for a moment before he murmured something. “You know I can’t dance, right?”

“First of all, yes you can. And secondly, lap dances are different, Diggs.”

“No, they’re not.”

“Yes they are. And if you don’t think they’re different, you dance at parties all the fucking time. You should be able to handle an easy lap dance.”

He lifted his head back up from your shoulder to look down at you. “But Y/N...”

You let out a laugh before you patted his cheek lightly. “You dug yourself into this hole, loser. Guess you’re just gonna have to figure it out because you’re not getting out of this one.”

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The next day you woke up to someone knocking on your door. In sweats and an old t-shirt, you made your way over to unlock it, squinting your eyes to adjust to the bright light. The slight hangover you had wasn’t really helping you get out of your groggy state.

“Daveed?” You asked, realizing who your visitor was once your vision adjusted. “What are you doing here so early?”

He was dressed in a yellow Oaklandish tank top that showed off his toned arms/shoulders and dark blue jeans with a brown belt buckled just enough to let them sit loosely on his hips. You also noticed that he decided to rock his glasses today.

You snapped your eyes up to his and away from his figure that left you breathless. You totally had not just checked him out.

“If your definition of early is 2 o’clock in the afternoon, I think you may need to reevaluate some things and consider fixing that sleep schedule of yours.” He replied with his lips turning up into an amused grin.

“Shut up, I had a late night last night.” You mumbled, turning around to walk away, leaving the door open so he could let himself into your apartment. “And you did too. I’m surprised you’re not asleep right now.” You glanced back at him to see him shrug.

“I had to meet Bill and Jon at the studio at 10. I’ve been up since, like, 9:30.”

“Damn, Diggs, you’re gonna have to teach me your ways.”

“Caffeine.” He chuckled, putting on his signature grin. “It works miracles.”

You returned the smile, before sending him a curious look. “So, why are you here? Not that I mind or anything, it’s good to see you, but you haven’t been over in like a month and a half.”

“Exactly! It’s been awhile since we’ve hung out alone, so I thought it’d be dope if we chilled and watched movies or something.” He replied before he went to ramble on. “I mean— only if you want to. If you’re really tired, I can leave so you can get some more sl—”

“No, no, it’s fine! That sounds great.” You cut him off and placed a hand on one of his toned arms to reassure him.

“You sure?”

“Yeah!” You responded. “Just let me take a quick shower and we can start in like 20ish minutes.”

“A 20 minute shower counts as a quick shower?” He questioned with a teasing look.

“Yes,” you said, “or would you rather it be 45ish minutes?”

“20ish minutes is good. Have fun with your quick shower. Though, I think it would be more fun if I joined.” A tiny but noticeable smirk made its way onto Daveed’s face.

You laughed when he sent you a playful wink, dropping your hand from his arm to walk towards your room. “You wish, Daveed Diggs.”

“You have no idea.” He mumbled under his breath (inaudible to your ears) before he let his eyes follow your retreating figure.

“Maybe you could set up the movie in the meantime? It’s your turn to choose. The remote’s on the coffee table and you know where the popcorn and shit is in the kitchen. I’ll be out soon. If you need anything, yell.” You said before closing the door to your room.

Daveed sent a thumbs up in your direction even though he knew you couldn’t see it before he made his way to your living room.

Little did you know, Daveed had something else planned.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━ ♛ ━━━━━━━﹤⋆

When you emerged from your shower, you quickly dried yourself and combed through your now damp hair. After that, you exited your room and entered your living room to see that it was completely dark. Confused, you surveyed the room to look for your best friend, but there was no sign of him at all.

Did he leave? If he did, he didn’t text you or anything to let you know.

“D?” You called out, walking further into the room.

With each step you took, the more you realized how this seemed like a scene from a horror film. You weren’t a fan of them, but a few months back Daveed and Rafael had pretty much forced you to have a scary movie marathon with them.

“Daveed Diggs, I swear to God. If you’re trying to scare me right now, I will—”

You squeaked when a pair of arms snaked their way around your waist from behind. Daveed’s voice had come seemingly from out of nowhere. “You’ll what?”

“Kick your ass.” You glared at him, quickly turning around to push him away. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

He laughed, smiling brightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“No, you’re not.” You grumbled, moving to sit on your couch. Daveed followed you.

“You right. It was so worth it.” He grinned at you, causing you to roll your eyes at him. You tried to stay mad at him, but it was damn near impossible when he was looking at you like that.

“We’re not friends anymore.” You stated, crossing your arms.

“What, why?” He asked, his grin dropping into a pout.

“You were mean to me, Diggs! How dare you scare me in my own home!” You were laughing internally.

“Okay, fine. I’m sorry for real this time. What can I do to make it up to you?”

When he asked, you contemplated it for a few moments before you looked up at him with a smirk.

“What?” He asked.

“Well, you still owe me that lap dance…”

He groaned, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back on the couch. “I thought you forgot about that.”

“Nope.” You said, your smirk forming into a smug grin. You had the upper hand now. “How could I forget you losing a bet against me, resulting in a lap dance from the great Daveed Diggs himself?”

After a couple of seconds, he sighed, opening his eyes and tilting his face towards you. “If I do this now, will I win back your friendship?”

“I’ll think about it.” You said, causing him to give you a deadpanned look. You laughed before you spoke again. “Yeah, I guess we could be friends again. But it has to be good.”

Daveed sighed again before he straightened himself up. “I don’t even know how to give a good lap dance, Y/N.”

“Improvise. C’mon, D, you’re great at improv. Treat it like you treat a freestyle. Just go with the flow.” You smiled widely at him.

“Fine.” He said, getting up from his spot next to you. “But I’m only pulling through with this because I like you.”

“Aww, you like me?” You asked teasingly to mask the actual feeling that was coursing through you. You continued to grin at him as he pulled out his phone to scroll through his music library. When he finally settled on a song by The Weeknd, he turned to you once he pressed play.

“Do I start now?”

“Yes,” you laughed. “C’mon, you know how a lap dance works. You’re not a novice when it comes to these things, stop fucking around.”

You could see him smile and rub his arm before he looked away for a second. When he started to slowly sway to the beat of the song, it was extremely hard for you to stifle your laugh. Your best friend was about to give you a lap dance and you could not take him seriously.

He continued to dance to the beat for a bit as he stared you down with a smirk. He was doing this shit on purpose. He was joking around until you couldn’t contain your laughter any longer.

“Diggs, I can’t take you seriously like this. I can—” You wheezed. “I just can’t.”

Your laughter and the slow, sexy beats of the music were the only audible things in your apartment until Daveed spoke again.

“Are you ready for me, Y/N?” His smooth, low voice washed over you.

You let out yet another giggle. “Don’t make it sound so sexual.”

“It's supposed to sound sexual, Y/N, it’s a fucking lap dance.” He chuckled, now standing directly in front of you.

“Alright, show me what you got, Bay Boy.”

You continued to laugh at him as you watched him, but the moment he straddled your lap, you stopped. His arms were on each side of your head, using the couch to steady himself over you as his hips began to slowly grind against you. That’s when the atmosphere in the room completely changed.

Your eyes widened slightly when you saw him bite his bottom lip in concentration. When you envisioned Daveed giving you a lap dance the night prior, you didn’t think it would be like this...it was flustering you more than you thought it would. Before you knew it, you were struggling to control your movements. Your fists were clenching and unclenching as you so desperately tried to keep them anchored to your sides.

As if he had read your mind, Daveed murmured, “You can touch me, Y/N. Don’t be afraid.”

If you weren’t turned on before, you definitely were now. His gravelly voice paired with his hot breath right next to your ear caused you to shiver, making goosebumps appear across your entire body.

Then, you finally let your hands wander. They traveled up his chest to rest on his shoulders, then back down again to move under the hem of his tank top so you could feel his bare and strong torso. Sure it was a bold move, but the more and more Daveed grinded on you, the less and less you cared. When his tank top rode up to the point where you could see all of his abs, he paused to stand up and quickly get rid of the article of clothing before he came back to straddle you again.

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as you looked up at your best friend. He looked undeniably attractive when he was on top of you shirtless and with his glasses on. Every feeling you had ever felt for him came crashing down on you at that moment and that’s when you just about lost your self-control. Part of your brain was screaming at you, saying that you were about to cross a line that you could never cross again...but at the same time, all of your cares had disappeared.

You used your newfound courage to cup Daveed’s face in both of your hands and pull him into a deep kiss. He gasped softly, surprised at the sudden contact, but quickly eased into it.

You had just passed the point of no return.

You didn’t know what to expect when you decided to kiss him, but it was better than you could have imagined. When you pulled back, his mouth was slightly dropped in awe and one of the sides slowly twitched up into a soft smile. (It was kind of adorable.)

“Daveed, I like you.” You blurted, short of breath.

His face broke out into a full grin. “I like you too, Y/N.”

“No,” you shook your head, moving your hands from his cheeks down to his shoulders. “I mean like— like like you.”

“I know,” he chuckled. “I mean, I figured given what just happened a few seconds ago. Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

You shrugged, breaking eye contact with him. You subconsciously traced one of your thumbs across his collarbone. “I was afraid of rejection, I guess.”

“Are you serious?”

“What?” You asked, sounding offended.

Daveed caught your gaze again, pushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. “Y/N, I’ve had like the biggest fuckin’ crush on you since Ari introduced us.”

“Wait, really?”

“Mhm,” he hummed. “I’m actually really surprised you didn’t notice.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about your crush earlier, Diggs?” You voiced, giving him a pointed look.

He gave you a shy smile when he moved off of you to sit beside you, still facing you. “Same reason as you.”

“You know what? I’m not even mad about not knowing sooner.” You said. “I’m glad we found out like this.”

“You’re just happy I gave you a lap dance with my amazing skills.” He teased with a laugh of his own.

You laughed again, and pushed at his chest so he could lay on his back and let you crawl on top of him to straddle his waist. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think you had it in you, Diggs.”

His jaw dropped completely as he looked up at you. “But you said that I could do a lap dance when even I said I couldn’t!”

“That’s true, but to be fair, I never said you couldn’t do a lap dance. I just didn’t think you’d do as well as you did.”

Your response brought yet another smile to his face as you leaned closer to him. “I’mma take that as a compliment.” He said softly.

At this point, the song Daveed had chosen had ended a while ago and the lap dance was long over.

“Good.” You responded before you kissed him again.

This one was different from the first. It started off soft, but quickly turned passionate and heated. As your mouths moved against each other, Daveed’s hands moved from your hips up to the hem of your shirt, his fingertips grazing your bare sides, leaving goosebumps in their wake. The only word you could use to describe this feeling was just complete bliss.

When you reached down to Daveed’s belt buckle, he shivered, causing you to smile against his lips.

Then he pulled away, panting. “Y/N…” he breathed. “Are you sure about this? You don’t have to— fuck.” He cursed as you pulled back completely to unbuckle his pants. “I don’t wanna push y—”

“Daveed,” You said, before pausing quickly to put a hand on his scruff, tenderly moving your thumb to caress his cheek. “I’m absolutely sure about this. Now please, shut the hell up so I can blow you.”

You smirked when you saw his eyes widen and when you crawled off of him to go in between his legs, you heard a quiet, “Okay.”

Wasting no more time, you removed his jeans and boxers to free his erection. You could see Daveed’s chest begin to rise and fall quicker when you took his length into your hand and pressed a kiss to the tip of it.

“Oh, shiiit.” He drawled softly when your mouth wrapped around him, slowly sucking your way down as far as you could. As you began to bob your head up and down, Daveed’s breathing increased with each suck and occasional flick of your tongue.

Now, he was fully panting. He lifted his head up to look down at you, causing him to groan. After a minute or two, he brought a hand down to move some strands of hair out of your face.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he babbled, “I...I shouldn’t...oh God, I shouldn’t be this fucking close.”

You slowly pulled off of him and he brought you back up to kiss him again.

“You,” Daveed breathed against your lips, “are way too fucking good at that.”

You grinned.

“And,” he continued, “this clothing situation is a bit unbalanced, don’t you think?”

His thumbs grazed the waistband of your sweatpants. When you nodded, you pulled them down along with your underwear. You moved off of him to take them off completely and remove your shirt and bra, leaving you just as bare as he was.

You climbed back on top of him, straddling his washboard abs, when he ushered you to move up. You obeyed, moving forward an inch or two, but Daveed shook his head and grabbed your thighs, moving you himself.

“Daveed, what are you doing?”

“Returning the favor.” He said simply, bringing you over to his face.

“Oh,” you breathed when you felt his tongue lightly touch your clit.

The man’s mouth worked miracles from between your thighs. Daveed kept you still above his skilled tongue, occasionally giving your ass a squeeze.

“D-Daveed,” you gasped, your mouth forming a perfect ‘O’ as his tongue lightly circled your clit before he brought fully into his mouth to suck gently.

This was the best head you’d gotten...well ever, actually. He wanted you to feel the best you’d ever felt and he definitely achieved that.

Before you knew it, you were reaching your high, climaxing as you shouted Daveed’s name, not caring how loud it echoed throughout your apartment. When you crawled back down Daveed’s body, the two of you shared a sloppy kiss as you both breathed heavily.

Although you just came, you weren’t completely satisfied. You still wanted him... needed to feel him inside you.

You moved to position yourself above his cock, but he made you pause before you could do so.

“Y/N, stop,” Daveed panted. “Condom.”

“Don’t need it.” You replied quickly. “I’m on the pill.”

“Oh, fuck yes.” He replied, releasing you so you could resume what you were about to do.

You breathed out a laugh before you slowly sank down onto his length, making both you and him release a groan.

“You are so fucking gorgeous,” he gasped. “You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this.”

Your fingers ghosted along his stubble-ridden jaw. “I think I have an idea.”

When you adjusted to his size, you began to bounce and he helped you, meeting each of your thrusts as he guided your hips onto him.

Your lips met Daveed’s yet again and you captured every moan that fell from his mouth, he did the same for you. As your pace quickened, so did each grunt, pant, and moan. You felt your pussy begin to clench again like it had when you came before.

“I’m gonna come,” Daveed said quickly against your mouth.

“Fuck.” You groaned. “Me too, D.”

“Come for me, sweetheart.” He breathed, bringing a hand up from your hip to cup your cheek. “You can do it.”

And you did.

Your walls clenched around him and you gasped, letting your orgasm wash over you in waves. Daveed came shortly after you, and continued to thrust, riding the both of you through your highs.

As you came down and pulled yourself off him, you collapsed, exhausted, halfway leaning on him and halfway laying on your couch. You moved a hand up to rest on his chest again, closing your eyes in bliss as you relaxed against him.

After a minute or two of silence, Daveed broke it.

“Wait, so...does this mean we’re friends again?”

You looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. He was still on that? Wow, what a dork. “After this? Everything that just happened?” You asked bewildered. “God, I hope not.”

“Fine,” he said letting his signature bright smile show up on his face, still breathing heavily. “More than friends?”

Your heart fluttered in your chest and you grinned widely back at him. You leaned up to softly kiss his jaw before you gave him your answer.

“Way more than just friends, D.”

#daveed diggs x reader #daveed x reader #hamilcast x reader #daveed diggs fanfiction #smut

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novelconcepts · 4 years ago

Text

fic: something to hang on to

When Jamie buys a camera, she isn’t really thinking about it. They’re driving through Virginia, stopped off at a little gas station; Dani’s outside filling the rental Jeep, which puts Jamie on snack-duty. At the counter, she spots a display of disposable cameras and, almost without thinking, adds one to the pile of sugar and caffeine. It isn’t a plan. Isn’t for any particular reason.

Dani, pawing through the plastic bag of their spoils, raises it from a mess of M&Ms and Pringles and says, “You like photography?” She asks it the way she asks everything, like every little detail she learns about Jamie is another brand-new color added to the shine of the world. Jamie shrugs.

“Never was much for it, but this brave new land is pretty enough. Don’t mind keeping track of it for later.”

It’s more than that, she thinks as Dani raises the viewfinder to her eye and clicks a photo of Jamie behind the wheel, one hand steering, the other stretching across the center console to rest on Dani’s knee. I almost lost you once, Poppins. Wouldn’t have had anything but my own memory to remember you by. This...this will help.

Later, much later, years later, Jamie will look back on that moment as one of her wisest. Later, on a bed she can no longer sleep in, holding a thick album between shaking hands, she’ll think some of the most important choices you ever make are split-second recklessness. A camera, tossed in at the last second. A habit, built on nothing more than needing Dani’s smile immortalized.

Open the album. Take a breath. Flip the page.

***

A photo: Dani sprawled on a red-and-white beach towel, chin propped on folded arms, gazing out away from the camera as though she has no idea anyone is watching.

They’re with Henry and the kids--the first time they’ve seen the Wingrave family since the events at the house, and, though they don’t know it, one of the last times they’ll see them all together--in Florida. It’s strange, Jamie reflects, watching Miles chase Flora across an endless strip of sand. Strange how much world can fit into one country. England was green, rolling with hill and fog and haunted by things older than any of them can imagine. Florida feels...young, somehow. Too warm, too bright, too perfect on a Saturday afternoon.

She’s hugging her knees, seated on a blanket with Dani sitting just an inch further away than she’d like. It’s the safe thing, the smart thing, but she misses her--misses the way they sit in hotel rooms and empty bars, knees touching, pinkies overlapping. Dani, in a sundress that matches the blue of her right eye, is laughing as Miles grabs Flora around the middle and tries with all his ten-year-old strength to hoist her off the ground.

“Miles,” Henry calls, his voice laden with the anxiety of a man who has only just begun learning how to parent. “Miles, be careful--”

“They’re all right,” Jamie interrupts, tossing a handful of warm sand toward Henry’s precarious perch on a plastic chair. "Have you been wound this tight the whole fucking time?”

He looks pained. “You’ll excuse me for never having raised two children before. They’ve been a bit...”

“Precocious?” Dani suggests brightly.

“Demonic?” Jamie says at the same time. Henry sighs.

“Adventurous, shall we say, to meet in the middle.”

“They haven’t been...” Dani’s smiling, the way Jamie has grown accustomed to over the last few months: a beautiful smile that never entirely reaches her eyes. It’s the way she smiles when she thinks she needs to wear a mask of stability, when she needs everyone to think she’s doing all right.

Henry frowns. “Haven’t been what?”

Dani shrugs, looking uncomfortable. “Scared? Having nightmares? I don’t know...”

She’s asking-not-asking about that night, like she told Jamie she wasn’t going to do. They don’t need me bringing it up, she’d said back at the hotel, holding tight to Jamie in a way that said she very much needed to talk about this against her own will. They deserve to just live their lives.

Henry looks puzzled. “Strange, but no. No nightmares. Flora had a few at the very start, before we left London, but...no. Not since arriving here.”

Dani nods like this is all she wants to hear, and rubs her cheek with one slightly-sunburnt hand, the moment passing into obscurity as Flora shrieks and Miles trips directly into an oncoming wave. It’s all good here, all sunshine and ease of temper, and Jamie watches Henry stand. Brush off shorts that look truly insane set against his pale legs. Go awkward-jogging into the surf to lift a giggling Flora heavenward.

“They make a fine little family,” she says, pitching her voice so only Dani can hear. Dani nods. There’s a tightness to her mouth that says she’s only half here, only half able to let the sun bake away the shadows. Jamie touches her ankle lightly, wishing they were somewhere less requiring of distance.

“I’m all right,” Dani says. Not a lie of intent, at least, though Jamie suspects it’s more that she wants to be all right. She watches Dani roll onto her front, eyes on the endless ocean, the children tumbling around in its gentle grasp, the man doing his best to keep up.

Could watch her forever, Jamie thinks, knowing it’s far too early to say something so catastrophically huge. She’s been having these thoughts more and more, wild notions of turning this brand-new adventure with Dani into a lifetime event. It turns a key somewhere deep within her chest, some far-off engine making a deep rumbling sound that sends her tripping toward a very real, very powerful feeling of terror.

Her hand slips toward the bag of sunscreen, paperback novels, sliced oranges. A camera, small and yellow and used mainly in moments like this one, emerges. Dani never notices as she brings it to her eye, frames Dani’s blonde ponytail and sun-pink skin, snaps a photo.

Later, when the pictures are developed and spread out across a hotel bedspread, shots of Miles with an orange-peel grin and Flora standing before a monster of a sandcastle intercut with Dani’s far-off pensive expression, Dani will touch the print. Lingeringly, fingers trembling just the slightest bit.

“Why this one?”

Because I loved you more than words could capture, Jamie will know it’s far too early to say. It’d be reckless. It’d be testing the bounds of something still fragile, still one-day-at-a-time hopeful.

“Why not?” she’ll say, and tuck the photo safely back into its sleeve.

***

A photo: Jamie and Dani, backs to the freshly painted Leafling sign, standing carefully apart with shoulders back and a small bouquet of flowers clutched in Dani’s hands.

They keep to themselves, mainly, but some of the nearby shopkeepers have been kind as The Leafling goes from mad late-night concept to brick-and-mortar reality. They bring welcome-to-the-block plants and casseroles that are mostly-edible, and Dani accepts each one with true Midwestern courtesy. Jamie leans back, watches the art of neighborly behavior being painted before her eyes: older women who compliment Dani on her earrings, young men bullied into helping move heavy boxes into storage by their mothers. Dani, in the middle of it all, wearing a soft pastel sweater and a smile that has finally remembered its own strength.

She wasn’t sure how this would go, if Jamie’s honest about it. She’s been telling Dani not to worry for weeks, telling Dani they don’t need to know much about a business to run this one. I grow, you arrange, we make out like bandits with all the nice Americans who value pretty things. It’ll be perfect, Poppins. She’s been saying it, and she thinks she even believes her own words most of the time, but there have been dreams. Anxiety running its red thread through her sleep, telling her she has no skill in this arena, no education to speak of, no idea how to survive in American business while hiding her relationship with her “business partner”.

The day the shop finally opens, Jamie has been saying “it’s going to be great” for so long, she almost surprises herself by rushing into the bathroom and vomiting into the toilet. Dani, expression warm and just the tiniest bit teasing, leans against the doorframe.

“You all right?”

“Perfect,” Jamie gasps, staggering to the sink and thrusting a toothbrush into her mouth. “Jus’ great.”

“Too late to turn back now,” Dani points out. “What would we do with all the business cards?”

Jamie groans, spitting mint foam and rinsing out her mouth. “You could show just the slightest bit less glee, Poppins. I’ve just run us into a brick wall of imminent failure.”

Dani laughs, coming up behind her to hug her tight around the middle. “We should probably at least unlock the doors for the first time before you decide it’s time to shutter them again.”

She’s good today, Jamie senses--not the fake-good where she tries her best to pretend she isn’t listening for some deep-down movement Jamie can’t register, but truly happy. Her body is relaxed, her hands certain as she tips Jamie’s cheek and kisses her calm.

“How,” Jamie gasps when they break, “are you not out of your bloody mind right now?”

Dani shrugs. “It’s like the first day of school. Spend all summer planning and worrying, but now it’s happening. Just gotta jump in.”

There are already people waiting when they arrive, to Jamie’s mingled horror and delight. Most of them are their fellow shopkeepers, waiting with the brilliant smiles of people who have already lived this particular nightmare themselves, and just want to pay forward the relief of customers actually turning up. They’re kind, these people--they don’t know Jamie in the least, don’t have the first idea what shadows lurk behind Dani’s eyes, but they take their hands, squeeze, and congratulate them all the same. Jamie thinks they even mean it, most of them. Americans are complicated, boisterous, scandalous people--but they can have such heart.

One woman, old enough to be Jamie’s grandmother, presses a bouquet of peonies against Dani’s chest. “For luck,” she says croakily, patting Dani’s cheek like she’s known her since Dani was three feet tall. “Dry ‘em, hang ‘em somewhere in the back. Remember we’re all rooting for you.”

“Rooting,” a man who owns a nearby pizzeria hoots. “Good one, Carol!”

Jamie almost rolls her eyes, but Dani is beaming. When the others make flapping get in front of the sign gestures, they can’t help but obey, standing with a perfectly-maintained half-person between their shoulders. She wants so badly to reach over, to take Dani’s hand, to kiss her with all the terror and relief she’d never known she could feel at once. Instead, she smiles as professionally as she knows how for the camera someone produces. It’s enough.

Later, tapping a finger against the print the photographer drops on their counter, Jamie says, “Look like I want to pass out.”

Dani glances toward the window, takes note of the empty street, presses a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’d have caught you.”

***

A photo: Jamie, sitting just behind Dani on a plush couch, arm wrapped around her waist, cheek pressed to flyaway blonde hair. Dani, grinning her widest, cheesiest grin, leaning back like she knows there is no world in which Jamie would ever let her fall.

There are parties, occasionally--usually thrown by other under-the-radar couples they get along with well enough for drinks, not so much that they truly build relationships. They like the quiet life, the two-person road trips, the easy silence after a long day. But, sometimes, life is grand and big and loud, and on those nights, they venture out into the world.

There are a pair of men maybe five years their senior who have been together for “a decade”, if you ask Mike, “a century”, if it’s Paul telling the tale. They’re good people, and their home is a safe space Jamie doesn’t anticipate finding.

Friends are hard, she thinks. Always were, but they’re so much harder once you’ve lost a couple.

Still: when Mike and Paul are set to celebrate a round ten years together (”An eternity,” Paul clarifies, leaning against the Leafling counter to invite them over), they go. Dani wants to, and it’s good seeing Dani want things like this. It’s been almost a year together, almost a year of exploring the map and one another, and Dani’s been getting softer around the edges, less prone to jumping at shadows. The Dani Clayton of a year ago wouldn’t want to attend parties, lest the beast inside leap while her guard is lowered; the Dani Clayton of tonight is holding up a dark green dress, brow furrowed.

“Too much?”

Jamie hums a moment to buy herself time. “Depends.”

“On?”

“Whether you’d like to actually leave the house tonight.” Jamie wiggles her eyebrows, buttoning a black shirt and searching for a good pair of suspenders. Dani laughs.

“I think you can keep your hands to yourself for a few hours.”

“You,” Jamie points out, sidling up behind her and kissing her neck, “have always had entirely too much faith in me, Poppins.”

Dani is, however, a woman of her word when it comes to accepting social invitations, and soon they’re sitting on an exceptionally soft couch in an exceptionally loud living room. Jamie glances around, reading the environment, registering the two women holding hands by the coffee table, the men dancing near the kitchen, the way even the male-female pairs seem not to see anything odd. Mike and Paul have been doing this a long time. This is as safe a space as their own home.

She likes the way Dani relaxes, a little more with every drink tucked into her hand, a little more with a lit cigarette pulled from Jamie’s, a little more still when Mike nudges her and mutters, “Your girl looks good tonight, Clayton.”

She likes, most of all, the way Dani doesn’t flinch away when a Polaroid comes out. These are good people, brave people, smart people. If there are photos taken tonight, they will be pressed straight into the hands of their subjects, gifted away before the chemicals have even processed.

Dani presses back against her, seated on her lap, laughing at some joke Jamie hasn’t really been paying attention to. She’s too busy watching Dani’s profile, the way her head tips back when she’s really laughing, too hard to care what she looks like. Too busy reveling in how it feels to hold Dani in a setting so much more public than usual, her fingers stroking the soft material of Dani’s dress, her body burning and the most comfortable it’s ever been.

Later, with the Polaroid on the nightstand, the green dress on the floor, and a sheet tucked up against the fall chill, Dani says, “We should do that more.”

Jamie chuckles against her shoulder, kissing a patch of freckles. “This?”

“Yes.” Dani wriggles a little, giggling. “But also that.” She’s gesturing to the photo, propped between a lamp and copy of some old Shirley Jackson novel. “It was nice, wasn’t it? Not...”

“Hiding,” Jamie supplies. Dani makes a humming noise soft in her throat.

“I like not hiding you.”

***

A photo: Dani, eyes dark with a smolder only Jamie ever sees, a cigarette between her lips, hair loose around her shoulders.

Nights spent home with Dani, nights where there are no groceries to pick up, no accounting to be done, no errands waiting to be noticed, are Jamie’s absolute favorite thing in the world. There’s just something about this sense of home they’ve been building together, this sense of locked door and secured window and no one else invited to partake that gets Jamie the way nothing else does.

Especially Dani. Dani at home is less reserved, less careful. With every month that passes quietly, no sign of anything but her own mind, Dani gets a little less tight. A little less prone to gazing off into the middle distance. A little less likely to disappear from an otherwise-normal conversation, emerging several minutes later like she’s pulling herself out of a dream.

And, some nights, she’s not just here--she’s utterly present, every atom of her tuned to Jamie like they have no need of space between them, no need of separation. These nights, the nights where Dani strides into the room on a mission, are Jamie’s favorite of all.

“Why,” Dani says, leaning back in a kitchen chair with legs spread and head tilted to exhale smoke toward the ceiling, “are you looking at me like that?”

“Me?” Jamie teases. “You’re the one gazing at me like I’m some terribly interesting new buffet.”

She’s half-joking, but there’s something about the way Dani looks at her on this very particular sort of night, with every line of her body tuned toward Jamie’s, that makes her feel a stupid kind of brave. A reckless kind of excitement unwinds outward, until her fingertips itch to grab at Dani’s hair, her knees weak with the desire to pull Dani close.

She’s doing it now, smoking that cigarette with all the languid energy of a woman perfectly at home, watching Jamie with a faint smirk playing around her lips. No one else sees that smirk, Jamie understands, and it makes her a little faint every time she thinks it. To have something of Dani, some integral comfortable part of Dani that belongs solely to their apartment, their life together, is still a good fortune Jamie can’t entirely parse out.

Her hand moves toward the camera, small and plastic and containing some of the best memories of Dani she desperately needs to keep. Dani lets her snap off a shot, shakes her head when Jamie lowers the camera.

“That’s going to be one of yours.”

She says it every time Jamie tries to capture the white-hot energy of this kind of evening. Dani doesn’t like to see herself through this particular lens, gets fidgety and embarrassed at the sight of her own face etched with such a confident hunger. Jamie asked the first time if Dani wanted her to stop taking the photos altogether, and Dani had shaken her head.

“I don’t mind. But they’re yours, okay?”

She sets the camera aside, moving to take the cigarette out of Dani’s hand, taking a long drag and dropping it in an ashtray. The rest doesn’t need anything in the way--no lens, no embarrassment, nothing but the way Dani’s mouth opens beneath hers, hands already roaming. The rest is not Jamie’s, but theirs, a joint ownership of soft moans and soft skin and soft assurances that this is still, always, home.

Later, with Dani asleep, one hand thrown loosely over Jamie’s hip, Jamie will look at the photos that are hers and hers alone. Dani, mouth wet and swollen from a night spent confined to their bedroom around their anniversary. Dani, grinning and half-asleep, glancing over her shoulder to coax Jamie into putting the camera down, joining her among the blankets. Dani, smoke-haze around her face, wine glass in her hand, looking just past the camera at Jamie’s own desire.

Dani’s choice to share a life with her, Dani’s decision to share every inch of herself with Jamie, is more than Jamie feels anyone deserves.

***

A photo: Dani in front of the Eiffel Tower, sunglasses on, arms spread wide.

A photo: Dani kneeling at the Grand Canyon, gesturing bewilderment at the sheer scope of the place.

A photo: Dani standing before the alleged largest ball of twine in the world, looking rather like she regrets letting Jamie pick the destination this time.

They travel until Dani can’t stomach it anymore, can’t take the uncertainty of unknown roads and unmapped hotel beds--but, first, years of travel. Years of postcards and rental cars, of Jamie turning maps upside down and Dani being shockingly savvy in small-town situations.

These photos, more than any other, feel like they have to be taken for someone else’s idea of posterity, and Jamie feels a little strange, at first. Dani’s already seen much of Europe by the time they meet, and has no photos whatsoever to show for it. Jamie, who started turning up in photos for the first time as an adult, says, “It’ll be good to show ‘em off,” while never quite bringing herself to the edge of an unspoken follow-up question: to whom, exactly? It isn’t as though she and Dani are having children, isn’t as though there will be grandkids tottering around down the line to tune out their stories. Who, exactly, are these mementos for?

Dani is far too kind, far too pragmatic, to put the question to her. Dani only poses, grins, lets Jamie take all the pictures she wants, and then--camera tucked safely away once more--grabs Jamie’s hands and leads her into living it: the food, the outdoor markets, the snowstorms, the sun-kissed hikes. As the years go by, Jamie takes more and more photos, never quite able to explain to herself why it’s so critical. Never quite able to look away when Dani finally covers the lens with one hand and brings her close, kissing her like it’s the first time.

They stop looking at these photos together, after a while. Stop trying so hard to go back, as the days grow shorter and the exhaustion begins to steal the warmth from Dani’s smile. At first, it’s about moving forward--always one foot in front of the other. At first, every photo taken is set aside as a gift to another life. And then, finally, it’s about the moment they’re in, nothing more. Jamie sets the camera on a shelf. Refuses to look at Dani through any barrier but her own two eyes. Dani doesn’t like the snap-click of the camera anymore, anyway--each time, she flinches, like Jamie is about to show her a glimpse of whatever horror she’s been seeing in the mirror.

I only see you, Jamie promises, the ache in her chest so great, she’s sure it will swallow them both. But Dani can’t bring herself to look. Can’t bring herself, just in case Jamie is wrong.

Later--so much later, with eyes stinging and arms empty--she flips through the album and remembers Spain, California, Minnesota, Greece. Later, she finds Dani sticking her tongue out, spinning like a deranged nun out of musical, sitting quietly in a cafe with a small cup of coffee warming her hands. Dani, stiff-shouldered and trying not to laugh as Jamie made faces the one time they ever ventured back to Iowa. Dani, hair blowing back into her face, arms looped around Jamie at a terrifying, exhilarating first Pride parade.

And, in the back, the photos of Dani as only Jamie knew her. The sly grin a second before pinning Jamie to the couch. The sweet surprise from Jamie coming home early with dinner. Shot after shot of no make-up, or smudged eyeliner, or ruined lipstick, of Dani in pajamas on Christmas, or Dani in bed after a shower, or Dani laughing herself silly at nothing Jamie can remember now.

They’re all here, and they’re all Dani--all of Dani Jamie’s got left now--and still, they’re wrong. They sit, plastic and unyielding, beneath flimsy protective sheets, and they don’t laugh like Dani, don’t breathe out against her skin like Dani, don’t smell like Dani’s shampoo or swear like Dani tripping over a shoe in the dark or look at her with that solid, palpable love like Dani did and should still and never will again.

Jamie sits, album in her lap, staring down at Dani with paint smudged on her cheek and their then-new bedroom behind her, and suddenly can’t remember how to breathe. Had she known? Somewhere in the back of her mind that day in a gas station, picking up a little yellow disposable camera, had she known that one day, this would be all she had left of Dani? Surely not. Surely, she hadn’t believed it would go this way, all the way back then. Surely, it was one day at a time, and we’ll have time, and any day with you, Poppins.

Had she known? No. No, of course she hadn’t.

And yet, the idea of not having these in front of her--the idea of Dani’s face slowly, surely, washing away over time as Jamie fails to find her in a world so uncompromisingly cruel...

She touches a shot of Dani with her left hand covering her mouth, her ring gleaming gold against her smile, the day the state had legalized civil unions. Dani as gold as sunshine, in one of the last truly clean moments, before old ghost stories dug rotting fingers into their life. Her vision grays, her head suddenly too heavy to hold up.

She hadn’t known. But she’s glad. She’s glad she has, at least, this much to hang on to.

#the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #fanfiction #dani x jamie #jamie x dani #put it on the list of stuff you can blame jess for #as with everything I have ever written I thought it was going one way and then it did something else

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marvelsswansong · 4 years ago

Text

kind gestures

summary: simple exchanges of kind gestures go a long way- in saving lives, healing and leading two enemies to eventual love.

tags: enemies to lovers, violence, slow burn-ish, second chances, starts with angst but ends with fluff ✨

word count: 5.8K

a/n: this was written as part of the Marvel fic writers x BLM Request campaign (check masterlist for more info). This fic was one of the hardest for me to write and took 2 months to finalize so a bit nervous about posting this one.

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The edge of the cup clunked awkwardly with the wooden tray she was carrying as May carefully parted Peter’s door, revealing a very stressed out Peter. He was staring blankly at his textbook with his head in his hands, eyes wide yet unblinking. Carefully setting down the cup of coffee onto his desk (she normally didn’t let him indulge in caffeine but considering all the late nights he’d been pulling lately, she figured she could give him a pass this week) May held the tray close to her chest and watched her nephew’s response, which was a whispered thank you without even looking up. She sighed- she’d seen stress and exam cramming, but it was never this bad.

“Alright, what’s going on?” May pressed, forcing Peter to look up at his aunt. His whole face was now more visible under the lights, allowing her to clearly see the dark circles underneath his eyes and his unkempt curls sticking out in odd directions from the countless times he’d run his fingers through his hair.

“What’d you mean?” he asked lowly, causing May to raise an eyebrow.

“You’re eating half the amount you used to. You’re getting basically no sleep these days, you’re moody, you’re quiet… What’s going on, Pete?” she questioned, genuinely concerned as she lay a hand on his shoulder. Peter had to bite his lip from wincing as she was lightly squeezing a fresh bruise he’d gotten last night while chasing a robber, and forced out a smile, one as realistic as he could muster.

“Just stressed, May. Senior year is no joke.” his half attempted humor caused May to purse her lips but she didn’t want to push her nephew any further if he didn’t want to share, so she just smiled, squeezing his shoulder comfortingly.

“Alright. And you know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Peter nodded, almost reflexively.

“Of course.”

She smiled and gave him a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Alright. Love you loads. Try to sleep soon, okay?.”

Peter let out a heavy sigh as soon as May closed the door behind her, the tension leaving his body. Squeezing his eyes shut and leaning back on his chair, he pondered on how he was going to be able to keep this up for another month or two. Normally balancing his schoolwork, social life and his superhero identity wasn’t so draining. Definitely not the easiest, but he wasn’t relying on three cups of coffee a day and for Ned to trade him notes as Peter could barely keep an eye open during class.

He’d already had to beg two different teachers to not send May a concerned email or give her a call as he’d been caught sleeping in class five different times now. He couldn’t help it, he was just so exhausted and… angry.

Spiderman had been falling in the public eye’s favour for the past few months. He was no longer the unanimously loved friendly neighbourhood superhero, rather he was now seen as a failure, unable to keep the villains of New York in check. It’d all started three months ago, when a string of robberies occurred across several big banks on the upper east side of Queens. It made headlines and left officials scratching their heads, but Peter wasn’t too concerned- robberies weren’t uncommon in New York and usually the criminals got caught a few weeks later and never attempted to rob again.

But then it came out that a note had been left at the scene of the crime. Drawn in red lipstick, a picture of a crescent moon was painted onto a high security vault which had been drained of all its gold. The media went into a frenzy and Peter recalled watching the NYPD press conference on his phone during lunch time, the head officer describing this behavior as of “possibly a serial robber” and warning the public of any suspicious behaviour.

But it was all speculation back then.

Then a week after that string of robberies came a gruesome murder where the mayor of New York City was gutted like a pig in his million dollar mansion, his bloodied and mutilated body bleeding out onto the rich white marble floors. The killer left an identical lipstick moon at the crime scene, this time painted onto the mirror in his living room under the word written hastily: “PIG.”

The police was careful to say these two crimes were connected, as it could be a copycat trying to masquerade as the robber.

Only for three days after the mayor was killed, the killer went after the head of a property investment firm located in west Queens, the corpse found with both of his hands caught off. Another lipstick moon was left at the scene, written under the word: “ROBBER.” A jewelry store was then stolen from the night after, followed by a string of killings of rich politicians and businessmen as the weeks went by- each time they were mutilated differently, but their murders were always accompanied by the lipstick moon.

Once it became clear that there was a serial killer on the loose, pure panic descended the city. The police began to heighten security measures around the business sectors of New York and put out a reward for any information on the killer, all the while the public began to fear who this unknown master assassin was.

Peter, as both a citizen of New York and a superhero, felt a moral obligation to capture this villain and put them in their place. He began to map where these crimes were happening and found a few connections: the crimes only occurred in New York and always during the night. Upon asking Karen to hack into the police force database, he read that the choice of weapon was always a carving knife, though varying in size each time.

He started amping up his nightly patrols, commanding Karen to immediately notify him if any distress calls about murders or robberies in the New York City area were being passed through the police station. He was determined to catch this killer, who later became nicknamed as Moonshine, named after the deadly and illegal alcohol brand, but every time he got close he was always somehow too late. And with every robbery and murder Peter failed to stop, the terror felt by citizens began to morph into anger and blame for Spiderman.

He’d never faced such slander before. Comments under articles reporting more of Moonshine’s crimes were littered with people questioning why Spiderman had yet to catch the villain, what exactly he was doing to try and even stop it. The public scrutiny paired with the increased pressure by the police for the superhero to help them out was so intense that Tony eventually stepped in, going off on a press conference about how Spiderman was still a young person and how unfair it was to put the burden all on this one boy.

“Don’t worry about it, okay, Peter? Fury’s agreed to let us work on this case, now that it’s been dialed up to a kill count of almost 30 and the entire nation is in panic over it. You go home and sleep, focus on school, okay? And EAT! You look blue.” Tony had chastised, pushing Peter to go back home after he’d spent the whole night at the lab trying to connect more of the killings for any clues.

But sleep wouldn’t come to him.

The pit in his stomach was unbearable. He felt useless, powerless and frustrated.

The only progress he managed to make since he started working on the case happened a week ago, when he was the first one to respond to a distress call made by the wife of a prominent politician.

Peter immediately swung to the affluent neighborhood and stepped into the bedroom, where the politician was cowering in the corner as the criminal had their hands outstretched in the air, the knife glimmering in the moonlight.

“Stop.”

You turned around and his eyes widened- you were a girl. It was obvious by the way that the suit was hugging your body and the way you spoke, though your voice was slightly lower pitched due to the voice modulator installed in your suit.

“Spiderboy? Never thought you’d show up, considering everyone hates you now. Now leave.” you pointed to the exit with your knife, the tip glittering threateningly with a drop of blood. Peter pursed his lips, gritting his teeth angrily.

“Not a chance. You’ve been terrorizing the entire state of New York with your unnecessary killings and robberies.”

You just smirked, amusement seeping through your tone.

“Unnecessary? Is that what you view that as?”

“More than that. You’re a villain. You’re immoral. You’re sick.”

The man behind you then yelled and lunged forward, trying to tackle you onto the floor. You stepped backwards but the force at which he moved cause you to accidentally cut yourself a few inches below your hand, a gash appearing on your wrist. Your gaze turned murderous under your mask and you swore, gripping the metal blade even tighter.

Before Peter could web you down you moved at lightning speed, slitting the man’s throat before rounding around Peter and kicking him down. The pure speed and unadulterated strength with which you kicked caused him to clumsily fall onto the floor, his body colliding with the wooden drawer in the corner. Then within a blink of an eye you’d sped off somewhere else, and by the time he ran into the living room you’d already left your message on the pristine white sofa, the lipstick moon sigma smiling at him mockingly. This time you’d written the word “cheater” under the drawing, the letters messy and sticking out in odd directions.

Peter cursed.

He was so fucking close.

The walk back home was hard, his heart feeling low and the sweeping sensation of guilt punching him in the stomach with every step he took. He asked Karen to pass on the new information to the NYPD and Tony (“she’s a girl and she has super speed and super strength”) before turning off all his electronics and closing all the curtains in his room, enclosing the space in darkness.

He needed to get away from all the scrutiny and responsibilities for a while.

That was a whole week ago.

And nothing had changed. Peter was still stressed, still being scrutinized, still feeling the intense backlash from the public. If it wasn’t for his natural intellect he was sure he would’ve failed the past three exams he took, considering he was falling asleep in almost every class and getting by on intense cramming sessions and copious amounts of redbull. He’d been barred by Tony and even Fury himself from looking further into this case, both of them arguing that it wasn’t “good for a teen” and that Peter needed to “get more food and sleep.”

But how could they say that when this was all Peter could think about?

Once he heard the lights go out in May’s room, his stomach growled in hunger and he was suddenly craving some ice cream. Figuring that there was a 7/11 open just down the block from his apartment, Peter quickly pulled on a spare pair of jeans and a Stark Tower hoodie (even packing his web shooters underneath his sleeves- he never knew) and headed out the door.

The walk was quiet and brisk, the night wind whipping past his face as his footsteps rang out in the dark. Stepping into the convenient store he accidentally bumped into someone, stepping on their feet in haste.

“Oh, I’m so sorry.” a feminine voice rang out, paired with a laugh. He looked up, his cheeks flushing red when his first thought was that you were very, very pretty. Wearing a breezy floral tank top and a tight pair of jeans, you were giving him the brightest smile he’d ever seen on a girl, one that made his breath stop in his throat.

“No, it’s fine. It’s my-” his words trailed off when his eyes fell onto your arm.

There was a gash on your left arm, right underneath your hand, right where he had sliced Moonshine a week ago.

“It’s my fault.” Peter finished, smiling awkwardly. Thankfully, you didn’t question it, simply amused at the cute boy blushing in front of you. Then as soon as you turned around to walk up to the cashier, he rolled his sleeves back and webbed you to the counter. Your eyes widened in shock, a couple of swear words passing by your lips before your eyes narrowed at him, finally recognizing him.

“Spiderboy.”

He ignored the string of curses and angry comments that left your mouth and immediately called Tony.

“Mr.Stark? I’m sending you my location right now. I’ve caught Moonshine.”

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Winter break came two weeks later, along with the fury of the freezing cold and layers of snow covering every inch of the city. Bundled up under three layers of fur and fuzz, Peter wrapped the red scarf around the lower portion of his face several times before stepping out into the street, the paper bag filled with books heavy in his left hand.

Things had gone back to somewhat normal following your capture, the whirlwind of media sensationalism and public anxiety bubbling down to a silence. Tony had clapped Peter on the back and congratulated him, telling him that “the adults will take it from here.” Though now that it was winter break, Peter was visiting Stark Tower more than ever, the unlimited amount of books and scientific resources an attractive excuse to not be stuck in his apartment for weeks on end. After all, he even had an entire floor to himself after being dubbed an honorary avenger, and it was his recluse, away from any stress or responsibilities.

Greeting the receptionist, Peter passed through the sliding glass doors and hummed as he stepped into the elevator. The elevator stopped on its ascent and he could hear some of the adults in midst of a heated argument as an exasperated Sam entered the elevator, shaking his head.

“Is… everything okay?” Peter questioned, not wanting to overstep any boundaries. Sam sighed, crossing his arms.

“Ms public enemy won’t talk. She’s just been sarcastic and rude and driving Tony up the wall. The latter I actually appreciate. Everything else I don’t.”

Peter nodded, letting out a quiet “oh” and reverting his gaze to the floor.

“Is there… is there anything I can do to help?”

Sam just smiled and waved it off.

“Nah. Thanks though kid, if it wasn’t for you, we wouldn’t have her in our custody.”

As the doors slowly slid shut Peter leaned on his right foot to look out, seeing a small figure hunched on a metal chair in a glass box while the rest of the Avengers argued amongst themselves outside. You made direct eye contact with him and smirked and he quickly looked away, troubled thoughts filling his head.

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No lesser than three hours when he saw you in that cell, you were walking free (well, semi-free with a GPS tracking bracelet on your right wrist) around the tower as if you’d lived there all along. Peter had immediately reached for his web shooters, fearing that you’d escaped, when Steve stopped him, putting a firm hand on Peter’s wrist.

“C-captain, I don’t understand, why-”

Steve sighed, his eyebrows furrowing in deep thought.

“Fury and her talked and apparently she holds a lot of dirt on criminals and high ranking illegal activity by politicians that both the US government and SHIELD wants. In exchange for information she’s been granted limited freedom.”

Peter wanted to talk back, argue about how ridiculously unfair and dangerous that decision was, but before he even had a chance to open his mouth Steve was pulled away by Bruce, some quiet murmurings about a meeting being exchanged that Peter didn’t have the brainpower to absorb. If Peter would’ve had the luxury to not know who you were, he probably would have been fine with seeing you walk around the kitchen.

Especially because he wasn’t blind- you were stunning.

But all he could feel right now was rage and hatred, the twisting of his gut intensifying as he toyed with the idea in his head. His enemy was walking around freely and happily even after all she’d done, all the people she’d scared and killed-

The lights went out at the moment, plunging the room into darkness. His senses forced him forwards and to corner you immediately, causing your eyebrow to raise in the dark.

“Can I help you, spiderboy?”

“Don’t call me that.” he scowled. “I’m just trying to make sure a villain isn’t going to get away. You’re not responsible for this, are you?”

You rolled your eyes.

“Are you serious? I’ve been in prison for the past three hours and had this big bracelet cuffed to my wrist that I literally can’t even saw it off if I wanted to. It’s made of vibranium or some shit and I need a code to be able to unlock it.”

“Stop talking, I’m trying to think.” Peter snapped, his senses on high alert. He was waiting for a notification on his phone or some kind of announcement from FRIDAY but the floor was completely silent, the only sounds in the room being the labored breathing from him and you.

The sound of glass breaking filled the air and you both tensed, your arm already reaching for the knife on the counter behind you as Peter began to walk towards the noise.

He never got to, however, when you pushed him behind you and swung your arm at the intruder, the blade pointing directly at the intruder’s neck. Under the veil of darkness it was hard to make out what was happening, but he could hear the slap on skin from where you were attacking the assailant and the heavy grunts from when you flipped the intruder over to the floor, the body smacking right against the concrete floor. A shout and you had pinned the unknown man to the floor, your legs right on his neck and causing him to pass out.

Peter spoke quietly into the dark, not being able to see who had won the fight.

“Uh… you okay, Moonshine?”

Soft footsteps pattered against floor as you came into view, wiping the bloodied knife from where it had grazed the intruder’s skin on your shirt.

“(Y/n).”

He paused.

“What?”

“Don’t call me Moonshine. I’ve always hated that name. My name’s (Y/n).”

Fuck, he thought the name was kind of pretty. Shifting nervously, he bit his lip before speaking.

“Well, (Y/n) thanks for… saving my life.”

“You’re welcome.”

An awkward and tense atmosphere filled the air as Peter pondered over what to say next, before it hit him.

“Wait… why did you save my life? I thought your whole deal was that you killed people for no reason? Politicians, businessmen, robbing banks…”

You licked your lips, your eyes falling to the floor as you let out a humorless chuckle.

“The banks I robbed were scamming citizens below the poverty line to bypass tax policies. The mayor sexually assaulted all his female staff. The property investment firm’s CEO was stealing money from the firm’s deals while cutting pay for his workers. The lawyer was contaminating evidence so his client would win, the politician was cheating on his wife, the last guy I killed was a convicted rapist.”

The lights flickered back on and two guards with the SHIELD symbol marched in, motioning for you to follow them. You sighed, dropping the knife into the sink and looking at Peter’s shocked face with amusement.

“I’d never kill someone who wasn’t guilty. I’m not a villain, Spiderboy. I’m the equalizer.”

The man to your right grabbed your arm roughly, almost pulling you forward towards the entrance as Peter watched you walk off. His mouth felt weirdly dry and his brain was foggy, not sure of how to process all the information you’d just given him.

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You were starting to get comfortable in the prison cell they’d allocated you to, the harsh cement floor feeling softer and softer every minute. You supposed it was a good thing that you were captured by the Avengers and not their sinister counterparts, considering you were still being served warm food and given time to sleep. Even if they gave you the bare minimum or glared at you while giving you food, it was better than nothing.

Each day was blending into the next, though you were allowed to wander out of your cell at certain points throughout the day given that you were wearing your bracelet and under the constant surveillance of FRIDAY. But those times where you weren’t outside, you were either being interrogated by an Avenger or forced to watch the Avengers argue amongst themselves outside of your cell.

It was all miserable and isolating, to say the least. But you supposed…

Perhaps you did deserve all this.

The night settled in and something must’ve broken in your cell, because it was suddenly much colder than it was an hour ago. The superheroes had decided to call it a night, each of them going back to their floors and living you all alone in your cell. Shivering slightly, you pushed yourself against the wall and rubbed your hands together, trying to brace the cold. To your surprise, you soon heard the door opening and a hand reaching out to you, holding a thick blanket in their hands.

“Here.”

Your eyes trailed upwards and stopped at Peter’s face, a slight blush dusting his cheeks as he coughed awkwardly and extended the material towards you. Taken back by the kind gesture, you didn’t take it, afraid of this being some kind of a twisted joke or a test. But he just kept on holding it out towards you, his eyes basically begging you to take it.

“Thanks.” you whispered, wrapping yourself with the thick blanket. He nodded, a small smile gracing his lips. “Where uh… where’ve you been the past few days?”

“What do you mean?”

You shrugged.

“You used to pass by my cell almost every day, Spiderboy. Well, every day since that day of the failed invasion. Then I stopped seeing you for a whole three days till… well, today. What’s up with that?”

His eyes widened then he awkwardly scratched his neck, as if almost embarrassed about telling you this.

“Right, about that…. Well, after what you told me, uh, that night, I… I went to talk to Director Fury by myself. He was pretty wary about my idea and it took me a few days to convince him but I think he’s going to agree with me now.” he said lowly, slowly sitting down on your bed as you shifted over and gestured for him to sit down.

“What’s the idea?”

“Well… basically, you leave this cell and the bracelet behind. In exchange, you work with the Avengers for the next two years. Kind of like a superhero internship, so you can help people the right way. Because that’s ultimately what you’re trying to do, just�� maybe your methods are wrong.” he was speaking to you softly, and you were frozen, touched by his kindness.

“You… you really did all that for me?”

He nodded shyly, not meeting your gaze.

“Yeah.”

A beat of silence passed.

“W-why?” it was your turn to stutter as you shifted towards him, searching his eyes for any sign of deceit or manipulation. But there was none. Just pure sincerity as he smiled.

“Because I was wrong about you, (Y/n). And the world deserves to know that they were wrong about you, too.”

You opened your mouth to respond then closed it, when words failed you.

“Well…. Thanks, Spidey.”

“Peter. That’s my real name. Peter Parker.” he cut you off and you smiled, tugging the blanket closer towards yourself.

“Peter. I like that name a lot.”

You had a feeling you and Peter were going to get along from now on.

----------------------------------------------

Peter was staring at you. Again.

Had you noticed? He wouldn’t know, you’d never brought it up to him. Weeks had flown by since the ice had broken and you’d slowly started to let him in and he was starting to see who you really were as he managed to take down your walls brick by brick. Between late night talks, walks in the park after training and secret sleepovers filled with sugar, he’d slipped into a dangerous crack of infatuation.

It started out with fascination. Fascination with someone so morally different from him, a fascination with the layers of secrecy wrapped around yourself, a fascination with the unknown. Then somewhere along the way it turned into a friendship, a quiet compliment leaving your lips out of nowhere, a small smile, your unapologetic laugh muffled behind your arm as Peter tried (and failed, miserably) to drag in a six foot teddy bear into your room after winning it at a county fair. The bruise he had on his lower back was a testament to the fall.

The seasons melted from fall to winter eventually, meaning it was time for him to switch jackets for sweaters and blankets to fluffy multi-layered ones. He still remembered the time he caught you wrapped up in all three of his blankets in his room when he’d returned late from training one day, and the adorably panicked look on your face.

And the others had caught onto his infatuation, apparently. It was all too clear from the snide remarks and gentle shoves from Sam and Bucky, the incredibly awkward love advice given from Steve (which was promptly followed by Natasha rolling her eyes and telling Peter not to follow it), and the outright questions from Tony over cups of coffee.

“You like her, don’t you? Miss public enemy number one.” Tony mentioned casually one day, accepting the hot cup of coffee Peter had brought in for him from the kitchen.

Peter almost dropped the other cup of coffee he was holding in his hands, the stumble obvious and eliciting a soft chuckle from his mentor’s mouth.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Peter replied quickly, averting his gaze. Tony rolled his eyes.

“You know who I’m talking about. Hey-”

Peter looked up at Tony, worried about what he was going to say about you.

“I know we were all harsh on her at the beginning but we all like her now. Besides, I think you two would be good for each other.”

“Peter-”

The call of his name forced him to snap out of his daze, your hand being waved in front of Peter’s face repeatedly. When he looked up at you, his eyes glazed over, you laughed.

“Too much soda?”

He shook his head sideways, brushing off your comment.

“No. Not enough, actually. But I think there should be more in the fridge-” he walked over and opened it, only to find it void of any soda. “Huh. Guess not.”

“We could go out for one. There’s a 7/11 just down the street.” you spoke up from your seat from the floor, carefully separating your legs underneath the thick blanket. He agreed and the two of you snuck out the tower after grabbing a thick coat and sneakers, almost forgetting to bring the credit card that Tony had lended you and Peter for “emergencies only.”

The walk was silent, the only sound being the snow being crushed under your feet, given that it was well past 10pm on a Wednesday. A few cars passed by but it was a mostly deserted street, albeit it well lit and seemingly safe. A few giggles and a light shove was exchanged in the store (to which the store clerk glared at you and Peter for) and the two of you left with two large bottles of soda.

“Damn it, I forgot something.” Peter swore after the store door closed behind you. You smiled.

“It’s fine, go inside. I’ll just be waiting outside here for you.”

You hummed quietly to yourself to fill the empty space, your slow breaths coming out in white clouds and dissipating into the cold air. The sound of a scream and two bodies struggling caught your attention, the distressed noises coming from the alley around the corner. Spurring into action, you gave it little thought before running towards the noise.

It was dark, darker than usual, not a single street lamp to light the way. Carefully stepping forwards, you brushed past some bushes and a dumpster, before walking right into a heavy figure. Before you could do anything, the figure knocked you against the brick wall, your head colliding with the unforgiving cement and a cold blade pressed against your neck.

“Give me all your money.” the clearly male voice growled into your ear.

“Who’s she?” another male voice spoke out in the dark, a smaller figure thrashing in his hold. From the moonlight passing over ahead you saw it was a girl, a large bruise on her left cheek and terror evident in her eyes as her irises stared into yours.

“No clue. But might as well get someone outta her too, huh?” the man holding you chuckled, the blade now actually pinching your skin. Dropping your groceries onto the floor, you slowly nodded, your left hand reaching for your wallet inside your pocket. The man lowered his blade for a millisecond, relaxing under the guise of your compliance, and in that momentary relief you kicked your heel out and hit his knees, causing him to groan and drop his blade.

Swiftly kicking his face, you reached for the blade, only to be tackled by the other man behind you onto the floor. He attempted to hit you in the face, a blow you managed to dodge last second by twisting your head to the side, before you shifted your body upwards and pulled yourself out of his hold.

The first man was knocked out cold, apparently, his body unmoving except for the slowed breaths leaving his lips. You acknowledged this for a few seconds before another swung at your face came from the other man, this time landing it on your left cheek. Stumbling from the impact, you stopped his hand, now holding the blade, a few inches away from your neck, the tip glistening menacingly in the moonlight.

Twisting his arm to the side, he cried out in pain and this time you were the one to push him against the wall, your blade against his neck. Out of breath, pumped full of adrenaline and anger, the terrified look of the female victim burned into your mind, the thought of killing entered your mind for the first time in a year.

“(Y/n)-”

Peter’s voice cut through your hazed mind, distracting you for a brief moment, but before the man could retaliate Peter webbed the criminal’s hands to the walls.

“Karen, please send the police my location.”

The girl was still shaking, half from fear and half from the freezing cold, and you shrugged off your own coat and wrapped her around in it. She thanked you over and over again until the police arrived, carefully taking her in and shoving the criminals into a police car and slamming it shut. Once the red and blue lights faded away Peter’s cold hand reached out for your cheek in the dark, and you twisted yourself away from it.

“What’s wrong?”

“Don’t touch me, Parker.”

Peter recoiled in shock, the venom in your tone obvious and distasteful.

“(Y/n), you’re scaring me.”

“I should scare you. I’m- I’m a fucking monster, Peter.”

Peter’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you shivered from the cold, causing Peter to immediately take off his own coat and try to wrap you in it.

“DON’T touch me.” you shouted, trying to escape his hands. He sighed, looking like a kicked puppy, and holding out his coat.

“I promise I won’t touch you. But you’re freezing. Take my coat. Please?”

You stared at him for a few moments, unmoving, before snatching the warm coat from his hands and begrudgingly wrapping yourself with it.

“If you don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But-” Peter sighed, wrapping his arms around himself. “It’s freezing out here and we should start getting back to the tower.”

Silence.

“Fine.”

Carefully picking up the discarded grocery bags, the two of you walked back to Stark Tower, Peter ever so slightly walking closer to you as a result of his protective streak flaring up. The bruise starting to form underneath your left eye was becoming prominent under the street lights, causing Peter to stare at your face worriedly as you simultaneously tried to avoid your gaze.

You didn’t speak until the two of you ended back up in Peter’s living room, collapsing onto the inflatable sofa with a sob.

“Hey, hey-” he was quick to soothe, wrapping his arms around you and letting you cry into his shoulder.

“I-I almost killed him.” you admitted. You expected him to shrug you off, disgusted or shocked, but all he did was stroke your hair, pressing a shaky kiss onto your forehead. “I’m a horrible person, Peter. I’m forever going to be a bad person, I-I’m unable to be fixed-”

“Stop saying that.” he cut you off, taking your face into his hands and forcing you to look at him. His eyes were just soft and sincere, not even a hint of disgust or fear in his irises. “You’re not perfect, sure. But no one is. And you’ve come so far from the first time I ran into you a year ago. Don’t throw all that progress away just because of a momentary thought.”

“Why do you even bother with me?” you asked quietly, wiping away a stray tear with your sleeve. Peter smiled.

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re worth it.”

The kiss was natural and swift, you leaning in but Peter being the one to close the gap. When Peter pulled away, his cheeks tinted pink and a wide smile on his lips, you chuckled and crossed your arms.

“We still have one more problem.”

“And what’s that?” he asked, teasing.

“The soda’s all frozen because we were out for too long.”

Peter laughed, his shoulders relaxing and his hand brushing away a stray strand of hair falling from your face.

“Is that what you’re worried about?”

You smacked him lightly on the chest, playfully.

“It’s a valid concern!”

He licked his lips, slowly nodding and then staring at you wistfully.

“Hopefully it’s the biggest of our problems.”

“Hopefully.”

And it was.

Until seven years later, when Peter had to plan the proposal.

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a/n: AHHHH that’s it! I’m not the most confident about this one so please leave a like/reblog/comment if you liked it! it takes five seconds but makes my whole day <3

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