#it makes me wonder if that's why he low key gets embarrassed by nice comments and compliments
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taviokapudding · 3 months ago
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"Also I'm a masochist."
-Gavis Bettel, Week in Review, August 12, 2024
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peachycoreroo · 4 years ago
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the forbidden fruit | zeke yeager
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summary: zeke was like a second father to you and you were his favorite little girl. maybe, it wasn't normal to like your dad's best friend that much, but who cares if it's normal when it feels this good.
pairing: dad’s best friend!zeke x college fem!reader
genre: smut, pwp
word count: 5.4k
warnings: age gap, vaginal penetration, lowkey pseudo-cest bc you call zeke 'uncle', daddy kink, oral fem!receiving, fingering, oral m!receiving, mini degradation, praise kink, a few spanks, choking, zeke spits in your mouth, usage of ‘slut’, ‘whore’ and ‘slutty’, bunny as a pet name, kinda exhibitionism?, manipulation, corruption kink, dub-con vibes but you actually want it, jealousy, mentions of alcohol, smoking, dumbification, manhandling, unprotected sex (pls wrap it up kids), creampie, size kink
authors note: this is for @weepinglevi​‘s adult movie tropes collab, thank you sm for letting me join!! def check out the other amazing fics in this collab<3 this is a lot darker than my other stuff so far, but i had so much fun writing it, so enjoy my first piece for aot!! here’s a link to my masterlist
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uncle zeke, or uncle zuzu as you liked to call him when you were still a child, has always been your favorite person since you were little. technically, you weren’t blood-related, but you might as well have been with how integrated into your family he was.
him and your father were best friends since middle school and you did call him ‘daddy’ a lot back then as a three-year-old, when you couldn’t grasp the concept of him not also being your dad. he was there for your birth, your childhood, your embarrassing teens and now even for your 20th birthday.
you don’t exactly know when the thing happened though.
one day, you were all a big, happy family and the next you suddenly realized, how attractive zeke yeager really was. maybe, it was the way you noticed that he was so much more athletic and broader than your father as they walked around your pool in their swimming trunks on a hot summer day. maybe, it was the way you suddenly became aware of how tall he really was, when you tried to reach a cup on a shelf too high, only to feel his presence directly behind you with his chest against your back as he reached his arm above your head and grabbed the cup, only to hand it to you with a teasing ‘you should really try this thing called growing. i heard it does wonders against high shelfs.’ or maybe, it was the way you finally registered how his gray eyes shamelessly checked you out as you walked around in your flimsy crop tops and shorts, barely covering anything.
it was so wrong, but that didn’t mean you would stop your little teasing. your dresses got shorter and shorter, dropping your keys on purpose on the way out just to flash him your lacy panties. hugging him longer than usual as he was leaving, just to press your breasts up against his hard chest. you wanted him to know you weren’t a little girl anymore. you wanted his mind to be filled with lewd thoughts about you. only you.
even when you left for college, you couldn’t stop thinking about the blond man, especially when you were in your bed late at night, with your hand stuffed in your panties and your mouth whimpering his name into the pillow. images of him, with his hard cock in a large palm, pleasuring himself with you on his mind, groaning your name, always brought you to an orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. you knew the only way to quench your need for this man was by having him, no matter how rotten your desire was.
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at last, it was finally your birthday, and you couldn’t wait to get home and act upon your ploy to seduce zeke yeager. it was a foolproof plan really. nobody would even suspect you were trying to rile your favorite uncle up, and he would only react, if he wanted you just as much. what better gift for your birthday, than ultimately having the forbidden fruit you’ve been trying to deny yourself of for so long.
“happy birthday, angel!”, your family exclaimed excitedly as you came downstairs. you quickly scanned the room to see uncle zeke already sitting in his usual spot on an armchair in the corner of the living room, getting up and joining your parents at the bottom of the stairs when he noticed your presence.
knowing that he was there, you finally smiled happily, thanking them softly before being pulled into a tight embrace by zeke. “yeah, happy birthday, angel”, he lowly murmured into your ear as he pressed you firmly against him, goosebumps erupting at his slightly suggestive tone.
“thank you, uncle zuzu”, you whispered back, squeezing him tight, hoping to get the message across that you were more than happy to be in his arms.
alas, you were forced to part as your mother shoved him to the side to embrace you, your dad jokingly complaining about you going for a hug with your favorite first instead of your parents, in the background.
“well, i can’t help that i’m so much cooler to her than you”, zeke retorted playfully, earning him a light-hearted punch to the arm from your father.
the rest of the day felt like an eternity. it’s not that you didn’t enjoy spending time with your parents, especially if zeke was there, but the prospect of getting the blond male to act upon your, hopefully, mutual desires, had you looking at the clock more times than you would like to admit.
“are you waiting for something?”
you quickly snapped out of your daydreams of what could happen later, as the man with the main role in them sat down closely beside you, your thighs brushing against each other. you couldn’t help your gaze lingering where your skin touched before blinking up at him through your lashes, only to see him grinning down at you, clearly amused by your stare. time for the first part of the mission.
“oh yeah, i’ll be going clubbing with a few friends later.”
“clubbing?”, zeke pressed with a frown, “and your parents are letting you?”
zeke has always been very overprotective of you. your dad joked that it’s because you’re basically like his daughter, but you hoped it was more than that. that’s why you were counting on his overprotectiveness to eventually lead you to the desired outcome of the day aka you, stuffed full of his cum.
“mmm, yeah. it’s my 20th birthday uncle zeke, not my 10th, you know. i’m an adult”, you retorted provocatively before getting up. “’m gonna go get ready.”
you could swear you felt his irritated glare burn into your back as you made your way upstairs, grinning at the first bit of your plan succeeding.
the second step, was your appearance. just a week before that, you went shopping for the shortest dress you could find, ready to turn heads, or specifically, one head. shower, hair, makeup, baby pink lace underwear, see-through tights, black dress. you haven’t felt this hot and confident in a while with college forcing you to wear hoodies and sweatpants all day every day. no way in hell were you going to make yourself suffer through endless lectures in cute skirts and dresses.
five minutes before your friends came, one of your essential male friends included, you decided to head downstairs to make sure zeke had enough time to admire how hot you looked.
as you came downstairs, you could hear your dad exclaiming ‘look at my beautiful girl, all grown up’, making zeke turn around. goosebumps erupted as you felt his eyes slowly trail along your figure, your skin tingling where his gaze burned into your exposed skin.
you did a full spin, showing off your outfit to the three people in your living room, but only caring about the opinion of one. to your disappointment, you didn’t quite get the reaction you wanted, with zeke turning back around to your mother, continuing to talk about whatever.
no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t stop the jealousy crawling up your tightening throat, making you sick with disgust. you knew your mother was just as much as a friend to the man of your desires as your father, but it didn’t stop you from feeling this way. you wanted his eyes on you and not some other woman, even if that woman was your own mother.
as if on cue, the doorbell rang out, your mood immediately lifting at the chance that the third step of your plan finally elicits a much-craved reaction from zeke.
you opened the door, your best friends immediately throwing themselves at you, screaming their congratulations and complimenting your attire. just like you hoped, the boy you’ve been friends with and flirted with since high school, jean kirstein, was the last one to congratulate you. he hugged you tight, leaning down, whispering a low ‘happy birthday, pretty girl. you look good enough to eat’, at the same time as your parents and zeke came into the foyer.
the hug you shared with jean lasted just a tad too long for it to count as appropriate, with you giggling excessively at his comment just to be sure that zeke heard it. and as you parted to say goodbye to your family, your flirty friend kept his strong arm around your waist, as though it belonged there.
you don’t miss the way zeke glared at jean’s arm around you or the way he had the slightest frown on his face as he told you to ‘have fun and be careful’, but when you turned around and left the house to get into jean’s car, disappointment filled you when you realized that the blond male didn’t do anything to keep you from going. all this planning and finger crossing for nothing. ‘happy fucking birthday to me’, you bitterly thought, as you drove off into the night, mood already completely ruined.
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after hours of trying to enjoy the end of your birthday even for a bit, you finally had enough. jean took you home, trying to make out with you on the backseat of his car in the parking lot, but as tempting as the idea of letting him fuck zeke yeager out of your mind sounded, you couldn’t bring yourself to. the fact that today was supposed to be the day you got your dad’s best friend right where you wanted him, was enough to make you crave a nice shower and your warm bed. you couldn’t wait for this day to end.
when jean pulled up to your house, you parted ways with a quick kiss and a cheeky promise of tomorrow, before making your way into the house. it was already 3 a.m., so you were sure everybody was already asleep, as you quietly made your way inside.
“there you are. welcome back, pretty girl.”
at hearing zeke’s raspy voice out of nowhere, you flinched and let out an unvoluntary squeak. what was he doing here?
you brought your hand to your heart, feeling it hammer against your chest, your eyes snapping to the spot your dad’s best friend was sitting in, in the kitchen. “uncle zeke! you scared me, what are you still doing here?”
as you made your way into the kitchen, you finally noticed the empty tequila bottle on the table and your unconscious father, snoring on the coach in the living room, just a few feet away.
“mmm, wanted to make sure you come home safely after your dad passed out, so i waited for you”, he casually retorted while his grey eyes inspected you from head to toe. smeared lipstick, a light sheen of sweat on your skin and your dress hiked up dangerously high on your thighs.
feeling small under his calculating gaze, you once again looked at your sleeping dad and gestured towards the bottle. “guess you also had a wild party going on?”
“mh, your dad’s just a lightweight.”
the air inside the kitchen was heavy and suffocating. you knew something was wrong with the way zeke wouldn’t stop staring at you and only answered with short sentences, his usual playful chattiness nowhere to be seen.
trying to get rid of the awkwardness and your nervousness, you asked: “where- uh, where’s mom?”
“asleep”, was the short answer you got, making you even more uneasy than before. “oh, w-well. i’m gonna go and also hit the hay. thanks for staying up for me uncle zeke, good night.”
“stop.”
this one word made you halt in your tracks just as you were about to turn around, making you look questioningly back at him. what you didn’t expect however, was to see zeke yeager spread his thighs and pet one of them with a simple ‘sit down, angel.” somehow, the pet name sounded condescending as it left his lips, but that didn’t stop your pussy from clenching at the sight of him with his legs wide open, looking positively inviting like never before.
your gaze quickly flickered towards the unconscious figure in the armchair, but even that couldn’t stop you when uncle zeke was offering you to sit on his lap, like you dreamed of for so long.
your legs slowly took you towards the spot he was sitting in, only for him to pull you on one of his thighs as soon as you were in his reach. his arm wrapped tightly around your waist, while the other found its place on your thigh, your heartrate skyrocketing at the close proximity.
not really knowing what to do with your hands and where to look, you once again brought your gaze to your dad in the living room, having the perfect view of him from your position on zeke’s lap, your fingers interlocked in your own lap as to not touch him too much.
“how was the party?”, he questioned seemingly nonchalant, but his tone had a certain edge to it, that made you feel as if you were being scolded.
you chuckled nervously, keeping your eyes locked on your unconscious father, as you started uttering: “oh, uh… it was- “
only to have zeke’s palm grab your cheeks, squeezing them together in a pout, as he turned your head towards him, forcing you to focus your gaze on him.
“did you fuck him?”
zeke was watching your expression closely when he practically growled the question, taking note of how your eyes widened, your breath deepened, and your thighs automatically pressed together as the meaning of his imposing words settled in.
the jealousy could practically be grabbed as it rolled off the blond male in waves and you knew, that if you wanted your birthday wish to come true, you had to play the part of the innocent and unsuspecting little girl.
“wha-? no!”, you exclaimed supposedly offended and distraught that he would even ask such a thing, as best as you could with your lips pressed together in a pout by his large palm.
the man’s dark grey – were they always this dark? – eyes narrowed as you seamlessly pretended to not know what he was hinting at, but the way you immodestly battered your eyelashes at him, one hand finding it’s way onto the palm that was squeezing your plush thigh, showed him at you weren’t as oblivious as you feigned to be.
“no, huh?”, he chuckled darkly, his hand leaving your face to push you down onto your knees between his legs instead, “then you’re not against helping your dear uncle with a certain issue, or are you baby?”
stammering out a little confused ‘what?’, you quickly checked whether your dad was still asleep, only for yeager’s palm to return to its place on your cheeks, squeezing them once again as he yanked your head back towards him. “don’t act like a brainless, useless slut, angel. it really doesn’t suit you. you’re my smart little girl, aren’t you?”
the sickly-sweet tone he used worked like a charm on your praise-starved brain. you wanted to please him and be his good girl, no matter what it took.
looking up at him with big, wide eyes, a drop of drool fell from your pouty lips onto his jean-clad crotch when he tightened his hold on your cheeks as you nodded like an obedient little toy, making him smile proudly.
“that’s my girl. now,”, he declared, unbothered by the tiny wetness seeping into his pants, his veiny hands made quick work of his belt and zipper, “show me how much you want to help your uncle zeke.”
just the sight of him whipping out his hard cock out of the confinements of his jeans and boxers, was enough to make a small pool of wetness gush out of your cunt, not that it mattered anyway. your lacy panties were already long soaked just from sitting on his lap.
zeke’s cock was longer and definitely thicker than you could’ve ever imagined, bigger than any you’ve ever taken with a prominent vein running on the underside, the tip flushed in a pretty pink. the saliva collecting in your mouth at the prospect of having him down your throat soon made you swallow hard, while you waited for his next instructions, not wanting to disappoint him by acting impulsively.
seeing his best friends’ daughter so submissive and eager-to-please on her knees between his legs as said best friend laid, passed out, just a few feet away, made zeke’s cock twitch. he knew it was sick and wrong, but he has always been a weak man when it came to you.
“go ahead, sweetheart. make uncle zeke feel good.”
at his permission to go, you nearly lunched forward, your pretty lips coated in sticky lipgloss instantly wrapping around the sensitive tip of his dick, making him groan deeply somewhere in the back of his throat.
you alternated between swirling your tongue around his cockhead and slowly sucking, as zeke put a cigarette between his lips, lightning it. normally, you hated the foul smell of nicotine and complained numerous times about how much you hated smokers but… the sight of it dangling between his thick fingers, as his other hand lost itself inside your hair, guiding your head to bob up and down on his length, awakened something deep in you, that you didn’t even know existed.
it didn’t help that while every other person reeking of smoke repulsed you, the same scent clinging to zeke brought you a sense of comfort. the fact that he also looked hot as fuck doing it, certainly didn’t hurt.
above you, the tall man made sure to let his eyes wander to your father from time to time, mostly keeping them locked on your lewd expression and your full lips wrapped around his cock though. he knew that the man a few feet away was a heavy sleeper, especially when drunk, so he wasn’t afraid of letting you know just how pleased he was with you.
“that’s a good girl. doing so good for me, want me to cum down your throat, sweetheart?”  
you mumbled a small ‘please’ around his cock, causing him to groan huskily as your vocal cords vibrated against his sensitive tip. knowing he was almost there, you hallowed your cheeks and tightened your throat, wanting him to lose himself in the inviting warmth of your mouth.
as soon as zeke felt himself teetering at the edge, he couldn’t stop himself from quickly putting out the cig in his hand and holding your head still with his large palms as he started frantically thrusting up in your mouth. having zeke use you to chase his own high made you clench around nothing as you gagged around his length, doing your best to try and keep your jaw slack just so you could hear the man praising you again.
at the feeling of you choking on his cock, zeke’s head fell back as he moaned hoarsely, the sound going straight to the fire in the pit of your stomach already forming just from sucking him off and hearing his erotic grunts.
on the next thrust inside your warm, wet mouth, zeke emptied himself in the back of your throat with a low growl of ‘good fucking girl’, making you whine around his dick. the blond pulled you off as you started coughing, instructing you to ‘swallow, angel.’ being the whipped, little toy you did as you were told, looking up at him as you licked the remaining cum of your spit covered lips.
zeke smirked at your sensual display, whilst he stood up, pulling you up to your feet, only to push you against the dinner table and impatiently smash his lips against yours.
you had half the mind to think about how he didn’t even seem to care that his sticky cum still lingered in your mouth as he kissed you before your brain completely shut down because you were making out with zeke yeager.
strong palms wandered up your thighs under your short dress, cupping your ass while the flimsy fabric rode up as a consequence of his wandering hands. the display of strength as he easily lifted you up on the hard surface behind you, made your head spin. everything this man was doing had you weak in the knees and if you weren’t already seated, you were convinced your legs would’ve given out underneath you.
as yeager made room for himself between your thighs, spreading them in the process, your arms found their place around his broad shoulders, pulling him down even closer towards you as you tasted the whiskey and smoke on his slightly chapped lips. you could hear his soft chuckle at the displeased whimper you let out when he removed himself from you, before tracing his thumb faintly over your clothed clit. just that slightest contact with your puffy bundle of nerves had your hips twitching up, your face heating up at the obvious display of his effect on you.
“aww, is my slutty little baby desperate for her favorite uncle?”, he asked in mock empathy, ripping your tights like it was nothing, before his eyes soaked up the sight of your baby pink lace panties completely ruined by your slick.
“i see you were ready for something to happen today. were you hoping the little boy from earlier would fuck you?”, he almost snarled the question, before adding: “or were you hoping for me, bunny? are these pretty panties just for me?”
as your core gushed out more of your juices at the pet name, you obediently shook your head at his accusation of you dressing up for jean, mewling out: “y-you, daddy. only you.”
zeke closed his eyes to compose himself when his cock twitched alive once again at the sweet melody of you calling him daddy. he knew this was the point of no return. he could’ve stopped this before, he was sure of that, but not anymore. not when you oh so sweetly called out for your daddy to take care of you.
in one swift motion, your panties were gone and thrown into a dark corner of the kitchen, the only light illuminating the space coming from the turned-on lamp in the foyer from when you came home. forcing you to recline back as zeke lifted your legs up on his muscular shoulders, you shuddered as his hot breath hit your drenched pussy.
after just one kitten lick to your core, you heard zeke’s pleased hum, mumbling something along the lines of ‘just as sweet as you, bunny’, but you couldn’t tell for sure because the very next second he was diving tongue first into you, sucking, licking, and slurping like it’s his last meal. the moan that left you at his intense ministrations was downright pornographic and you could only clench around nothing as his large palm came up to silence you.
“as much as i’d love to listen to your cries, sweet thing, gonna wake your parents up if you keep at it”, he muttered against your sensitive clit, the vibrations only making you mewl against his hand.
your hands tried to find purchase somewhere, the hard surface of the table, your plush thighs, before your nails finally got a grasp of his blond locks, using the leverage as an advantage to push his face even further into your slick cunt.
the obscene, wet sounds that echoed in the room were making your face heat up, but the embarrassment didn’t stop you from grinding desperately against his tongue, his thick beard rubbing painfully but oh so deliciously against the delicate skin of your inner thighs.
when you felt two of his thick fingers probe at your entrance before pushing in, instantly hitting that one spot inside you, you threw your head back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, thighs trembling against his head as you reached your peak around his digits. your back arched off the wooden table, thighs snugly pressing against the sides of his head, almost suffocating him in the process, while you moaned a long, high-pitched ‘daddy’ against his palm.
zeke yeager could proudly say that he’s had his fair share of women, but the sight of you, succumbing to the pleasure he was providing you with, was by far the most erotic he had the privilege of witnessing. the mix of your cross-eyed expression, your sloppy cunt clenching impossibly around his thick fingers and your body twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, only fueled his desire to see you go dumb on his fat cock.
a hard slap against the fat of your right thigh caused you to squeal, your legs sliding down from his shoulders, completely limp from all the spent energy. zeke leaned down, once again capturing your lips in a heated make out. his warm tongue still had the distinct taste of your release on it as it slipped between your lips, his full beard soaked in your juices scratching against your cheeks and chin, but you certainly didn’t mind as long as you could have him between your legs, mouths interlocked.
“wanna see your cute lil’ ass while i wreck you, bunny. can you turn around for daddy?”, he questioned, voice raspy, but he didn’t actually wait for an answer, grabbing your hips in a bruising grip and flipping you over on your stomach, ass pressed up against his crotch already. not being able to control yourself at another clear display that his muscles weren’t just for show, your hips automatically grinded back against his painfully hard cock.
another strong blow was delivered, this time to your bouncy behind, your small mewl echoing in the large space. “slutty, desperate whores aren’t appreciated here, bunny. thought you were daddy’s good, little girl? guess daddy was wrong about you”, zeke sighed in faux disappointment, knowing you would do anything for him to keep praising you.
“n-no! am your good, little girl! ‘m sorry, daddy, please don’t leave”, you practically sobbed out, to drunk on his touch to realize the manipulative undertone in his phrasing.
smirking victoriously, the blond tenderly smoothed his huge palm, with his fingers covered in your already dried up essences, over your ass check, his fat tip nudging against your soaked entrance, whilst he shh-ed you, promising that he’s ‘not gonna leave you bunny, ‘m all yours.’
at the promise of him belonging to you, your eyes rolled into the back of your head, just as yeager decided to push his aching dick into your tight pussy. at the first bump against your gummy walls, you both knew no one would ever be able to compare. it was a tight fit as he continued to push past the resistance of your cunt, hissing at the continuous contractions around his sensitive cock. no way in hell, he thought to himself as he already had to hold himself back from cumming as if he were some virgin all over again.
when he finally bottomed out, his patience was close to non-existent, so without waiting for you to adjust, he started thrusting in you like a mad man. your hands flew out to grab the other edge of the wooden surface to have some kind of support, as his powerful thrusts made the whole table shake and drag across the tiled floor.
“’s too much, daddy! slow down!”, you wailed, knowing full well that this was exactly what you waited for all this time. the dark chuckle that left his panting and grunting mouth told you that he was also very aware of the fact that you didn’t actually want him to slow down, so the only reaction you got, besides his acknowledging chuckle, were his thrusts picking up in speed.
after another strong hit to your jiggling ass and a groan that sounded suspiciously like ‘such a perfect ass’, zeke leaned over you, completely covering you with his large frame. his hand found its way to your front, giving your tits a quick squeeze through your dress, before continuing its journey up, finally settling around your neck.
as it constricted around your neck, thick fingers expertly pressing against the pressure points, restricting the air flow oh so deliciously, your spit-covered lips fell open in a silent ‘o’, the act lurching you impossibly closer to your orgasm. at this point, the only coherent words you were able to formulate were ‘yes’, ‘daddy’ and ‘please’, causing the tall man’s chest to fill with pride at your dumbed out state.
“my cute, submissive, little bunny. have i fucked you stupid with my cock?”, he teased, only to get his confirmation by the lack of response on your side, too far gone to process that he asked a question.
the rhythmic clenching of your warm core reminded him that his dick was practically begging him to let it stuff you full of his sticky cum, so as his grip on your throat and hip tightened even more, he let his carnal desires take over as he rutted impossibly faster inside you.
every thrust caused his fat tip to poke harshly against your cervix, the feeling of pain only fueling your pleasure, as you silently took all your favorite uncle was giving you. somewhere in the back of your mind the thought of your father sleeping just in the next room flew around, but it quickly got fucked back out by zeke’s fat cock.
at the next rough plunge inside your warm walls and the low growl of ‘cum on daddy’s fucking cock, bunny’ directly beside your ear, you came undone with a loud moan of his name. you were pretty sure the force of your orgasm made you blackout for a second, because the next time you came to your senses, zeke was shooting his load inside your inviting cunt directly at your cervix, your name leaving his lips like a prayer.
you were exhausted. your whole body shook and twitched, your stomach hurt from being pressed against the edge of the dinner table for so long, sweat dripping down on the surface from your face and neck.
suddenly the room was way too quiet, safe for the heavy breathing and your occasional whimpers. slowly, zeke pulled out, only to spread your cheeks apart to take a good luck at your abused pussy pushing out his white cum. it slowly trickled down your legs, mixing with your leaked juices on the tiles beneath your feet.
not having the energy to move, you let the blond male pull down your dress back over your ass, listening to the rustle of fabric and belt clicking as he got dressed again. just as he gently helped you stand-up again, you could hear a yawn coming from the doorway that led to the living room.
“what’re you both doing?”, your half-awake father asked as he made his way through the kitchen past you to get to the foyer. your nails dug into zeke’s muscular forearms as the panic of getting caught formed in the pit of your stomach, only to hear the older man murmur a casual, seemingly sleepy ‘she just got home, gonna go sleep now’, as though he wasn’t blowing out your back just a few minutes prior.
with an unsuspecting ‘’aight, night you two’, your dad disappeared in the shared bedroom with your sleeping mother.
“fuck”, you breathed out, stressed at almost being caught and your legs buckling, only for zeke’s strong arms to hold you up right.
“hey, look at me, angel”, the male softly demanded, gaze tender as your eyes met his. “i’ll bring you to bed and clean up here, okay? don’t worry about a thing.”
a sleepy, but happy smile stretched itself across your lips at him caring for you so deeply.
“open your mouth, sweetheart.”
without second-guessing the request, you obediently opened your mouth, only to feel his saliva hit your outstretched tongue. the taste made you mewl needily as you realized what it all meant. you were his and he was yours.
zeke chuckled, amused by your blissed out expression, before pecking your lips, picking you up and caring you to your room with you mumbling a satisfied ‘best birthday ever’ against his neck.
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realcube · 4 years ago
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moan in their ear prank
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characters ♡ tsukishima, tendō, iwaizumi, kenma & suna
content warning ♡ cursing, kinda crack in iwa’s, suggested punishment, sexual references, fem!reader & nsfw themes - minors dni
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kei tsukishima
♡ you meant for it to be a harmless prank but everything you do to him while he is trying to study ends up as harmful towards yourself-
♡ you just had to sneak behind his desk and chair to grab your backpack which was lying on the other side so in the process, you casually leaned in to his ear and produced the most hushed, pornographic moan that you could
♡ his eyes widened as he turned to look at you with an expression which was filled with a mix of disgust, shock and horny. which resembled the look he pulled when you asked him what a Iguanodon is 
♡ it took a moment for him to lubricate his dry throat and process what you just did, but once he thought of a suitable response, he blurted out, ‘what the fuck was that?’
♡ a sly smirk graced your features, you didn’t even spare him a glance as you dipped down to grab your backpack and pull it over your shoulders, ‘nothing.’
♡ once you finally laid eyes on him, you couldn’t help but snort at his stunned look which you rarely got to see as most of the time, it’s extremely hard to catch him off-guard, ‘anyway, i should probably get going. see ya lat--’
♡ though, you couldn’t even turn around before tsukishima grabbed your wrist be glad he was sitting down or else it would’ve been your throat- , ‘you’re not going anywhere.’ then he proceeded to pull you onto his lap
♡ you giggled at how uncharacteristically bold he was being before placing a kiss on his cheek, ‘that was hot, i’ll admit. but i really need to get going - i’m in a bit of a rush.’
♡ his seductive smirk fell into a frown and he was quick to drop his bedroom persona, ‘fine, then. go be a whore somewhere else.’ he said, abruptly pushing you off his lap and focussing his attention back on his work
♡ you gasp, luckily finding your balance after he pushed you then making your way to the door, lingering there for a moment just so you could peer over your shoulder and hum, ‘alright. but you know i’ll always be your whore, kei.’
♡ tsukishima exhaled sharply through his nose, adjusting his glasses as the corner of his lip pulled into a small smile, ‘unfortunately for me, yes.’ 
♡ a few moments passed and you must’ve been admiring his effortless beauty for a bit too long as he suddenly turned to you and snapped, ‘i thought you were in a rush? why are you just standing there?! it’s freaking me out- or are you gonna moan for me again?’ he chuckled at his own teasing but when he saw that you were giving him love-dovey eyes again, a light blush tinted his face as he waved his hand for you to go away, ‘whatever, just get lost. goodbye, i love you & all that stuff.’
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satori tendō
♡ he was sitting on the couch playing a game on his phone or sumn and nothing interesting had been happening lately so you took it upon yourself to make something interesting happen
♡ you approached the couch and plopped down next to him, your mouth hovering over his ear for a few moments - your hot breath tickling his skin - before you moaned in the most erotic way possible 
♡ he physically perked up then twisted his neck to look at you with an amused smirk, ‘someone’s horny.’ he commented, his attention quickly returning to his game
♡ you were excited to see his reaction but that was so underwhelming-
♡ your bottom lip jutted out to form a pout as you poked his cheek, ‘yes! aren’t ya gonna do something about it? i always help you when you’re horny!’
♡ ‘i’d love to help you out, princess. but i’m on the 48th level of candy crush. priorities.’
♡ you blinked rapidly, your gaze flickering between the phone screen and your clown of a boyfriend, ‘you know there is like..over eight thousand levels, right?’
♡ he side-eyed you with his eyebrow raised as if to say ‘fr?’ and you simply nodded in response 
♡ the app was soon deleted, ‘fuck that.’
♡ he tossed his phone aside and sighed as he stared into the void since he thought that his entertainment for the next few hours had been lost 
♡ but being the caring girlfriend you are, you were quick to swoop in and tilt his chin up to meet your longing gaze, ‘no, fuck me, satori.’
♡ and he did so gladly
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hajime iwaizumi
♡ you did it to him when you saw him just lookin scrumptious asf while he making was pasta for dinner
♡ you slipped your arms around his waist and nuzzled your face into the back of his neck like you usually do when he cooks
♡ but this time, you hopped onto your tip-toes, lightly thrusted against his back and moaned quietly in his ear
♡ to your surprise, instead of getting flustered or mad, he just laughed
♡ though, it wasn’t one of his cute, toothy-grin chortles; but rather an intimidating string of low chuckles - as if he was mocking you 
♡ which he was
♡ you raised a brow, peering over his shoulder to see if he was perhaps amused by something else but unfortunately for you, he was ready to meet your gaze with a deadly glare 
♡ so yeah..you were railed on the spot <3
♡ you may be wondering what happened to your pasta but dw bc he rearranged your guts while adding oregano to that shit-
♡ multi-tasking king ✨👑
♡ like you were bent over the counter, face pressed against the cold marble and you stared directly at the fire of the stove beside you which tickled your face with a warm sensation as iwaizumi filled you up with an even warmer sensation 
♡ one of his hands massaging your waist while the other was stirring the pot 
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kenma kuzome
♡ your first mistake was doing it to him while he was streaming 
♡ his camera was broken but the show must go on so it was just his voice + minecraft gameplay + you but the fans don’t need to know that 
♡ since his camera was off, kenma allowed you to sit on his lap as he played but under two conditions: you will not talk or make any noises and you can’t interfere with his game
♡ a small price to pay for some kenma snuggles :3 so ofc you obeyed
♡ well, for the first hour or so, at least
♡ after a while, it got boring just watching him play so you brought out your switch and started playing for yourself but even that became boring quickly too
♡ then the idea hit you 
♡ you were straddling him hence his ear was already by your lips, so it���s not like you’d have to move from your position
♡ plus, his mouth was very close to the mic so if you were quiet enough, the viewers probably wouldn’t hear a thing 
♡ though, you didn’t do too much reasoning, you kinda just acted on urge when you leaned in, pressed your lips together and hummed a faint moan
♡ his eyes widened and he visibly froze - if he had cat ears, they’d jolt upwards 
♡ his gaze immediately landed on the chat to ensure that nobody was going to mention it but his sudden silence probably made it more obvious that something happened
♡ the chat wasn’t flooded with inquiries but there were a few questions as to why he paused and if he was alright; so fortunately for your ass, it appeared as though nobody had heard a thing
♡ kenma hesitantly continued mining, explaining through gritted teeth, ‘oh, sorry, guys. my cat-’ he paused to pull his head back to shoot you a deadly glare accompanied by a snarl, ‘won’t shut the fuck up. shoo, kitty, we can cuddle later.’
♡ he waved his hand and you buggered off before you got caught cackling at the fact he called you ‘kitty’
♡ his chat genuinely believed him and he got a few donations solely bc they found out he’s a cat person
♡ so yeah, if anything you did him a favour but that didn’t stop him from fucking you into next week as soon as the stream ended 
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rintarō suna
♡ any excuse to fuck any excuse to fuck any excuse to fuck any excuse to fuck any excuse to fu
♡ you’re just sitting on his lap, cuddling - as y’all do - when the idea occurs to you 
♡ but a mistake you made was that you carried out this prank with no intention to actually do the dirty- you just wanted to see his reaction 
♡ he thought you were just craning your neck out to place a kiss on his cheek but when he hears your melodious moan ring through his head, he turns to look at you with an eyebrow raised 
♡ ‘that’s no way to ask for my dick. try again, but nicely this time .’ he snickered, lightly patting your head, clearly amused by your little pout
♡ honestly, he has such a soft spot for you - like you just existing near him makes him feel all warm inside 💕
♡ furrowing your brows, you whined, ‘i don’t want your cock, anyway. it was just a joke to see ho--’
♡ ‘you’re so horny for me, it’s kinda embarrassing.’
♡ his cocky smirk was simply met by your blank stare
♡ there was a long while of silence between the two of you; which you spent wondering why you were even with him while he was entranced by the thought of your pretty face with his dick half-way down your throat <33
♡ until eventually he broke by whipping off his shirt, lassoed it around your neck and pulled you in so your lips crashed against his, ‘you sure?’
3K notes · View notes
titanicsimp · 4 years ago
Note
Hello there! What would be some of the AOT boys' reactions to stumbling upon their crush (reader) playing the piano? Maybe something like Claire De Lune? It can be in the canonverse 🤗 thank you so much!
Also I just want to say that your writing is incredible, and you write all the characters SO spot on! Keep up the great work! 💕
Thank you so much for your kind words, I’m really glad I can do the characters justice!
I’m an absolute uncultured swine when it comes to music but I did some research so I hope this is what you wanted 🥰🥰
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AOT men walking in on their crush playing the piano (includes; Eren, Armin, Jean, Connie, Levi, Erwin, Zeke, Reiner, Porco, Colt)
cw: none
a/n: This got kinda long so I put it under a cut!
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Armin Arlert
Arabesque, No. 1 in E major by Claude Debussy
The soft notes of the piano fit well with the polished corridors of Mitras palace, and Armin couldn’t help but be drawn in by the sound. The music was gentle yet upbeat, a stark contrast with what had just been discussed in the dreadful meetings he had to attend.
A smile graces his face when he cracks the door of the music room further open, finding you at the seat of the piano. You look beautiful, your lips curved up slightly as your fingers dance over the keys. You look content, lost in your own happy tune, and Armin can’t help but be relieved that you have found a moment for yourself. He doesn’t want to interrupt, he just wants to stand and listen to you play, leaning against the doorway. He lets his head fall back against the frame and closes his eyes, letting you carry him away to a world of wonder through the music.
Eren Yeager
Metamorphosis: Three by Philip Glass
Eren had been surprised to be woken up by music. He shuffled over to the room where the sound seemed to originate from, only to find you. It almost seemed like you expected him, your gaze pointedly meeting his before you returned your attention to the piano. Eren did not have a lot of sense for music, but he could tell that your talent deserved much more than that run down thing.
“Bit somber, isn’t it?” He comments but you shake your head.
“Not necessarily, listen.”
He moves closer as you continue playing the song, and soon he finds out why you wanted him to listen. The somber tones get shifted to louder, more excited ones, giving the tune a more hopeful feel to it. He looks at you as you guide the music through its ups and lows, and a shiver runs over his spine every time he catches your eye. It’s like you see through him, he’s always felt that way, that’s why he took a liking to you to begin with. Though you aren’t telling him it explicitly, he understands what the song means for both of you.
Jean Kirstein
Liebestraume S541/R211: No. 3 Nocturne in E flat major by Franz Liszt & Jenö Jandó
Jean had just been wandering around, lost in thought, when he heard someone playing the piano. None of the scouts played piano as far as he knew, making him wonder if it was perhaps a Marleyan making use of the music room. He was pleasantly surprised to find out that you were the one playing. Your eyes closed, focusing intently on the tune of every key your fingers hit. Though he could watch you like this forever, he needs to come closer. “Wow.”
“How come you never told me you play piano?”
He smiles when you look up at him bashfully. “It had been so long, I wasn’t sure if I could anymore...”
“It sounds amazing, you have talent.” Jean tells you and comes to stand next to the piano.
You continue playing under his watchful eye, a smile playing at your lips. He enjoys the song, and jokingly starts ball dancing by himself, commenting that beautiful music should be danced to. You chuckle at him clumsily dancing with the air, your chest warming at the sight.
Connie Springer
Forever, forever by Keiko Matsui
Connie can’t help but feel slightly offended that you never told him, but as he watches you play from the open window, he can’t stay mad. He pulls himself up on the frame, startling you when he drops into the room. Throwing his hands up, he grins. “Sorry.”
You shake your head but smile, returning your attention to the piano. Slowly, you pick up the song again, and Connie makes sure to listen closely. The tune feels loving, and a blush graces his cheeks as he hopes that perhaps it’s him you are thinking of while playing.
“Can I sit with you?” He questions softly and you nod your head.
Seeing your face from so close as he sits on the bench with you makes his heart skip beats. It’s nice to see you so content, it’s the only way he wants you to be.
Levi Ackerman
Claire de Lune by Claude Debussy
Levi was determined to find out where you sneaked off to while you should be cleaning with them, glaring at the thought of how he should scold you for it. When he found you, the infall of sunlight playing so beautifully across your skin, sweet notes resonating throughout the room, he stopped in his tracks. Levi has a great appreciation for fine, sophisticated things, and you playing the piano with the sun setting behind you must be the epitome of it.
Your eyes widen when you realize he’s there, your hands stopping their movements. Levi scowls at you. “Keep playing.” He tells you commandingly.
Worried that you’ll be punished more severely if you don’t, you start again. You had thought he would be furious to find you slacking during cleaning duties, but as soon as you continued playing his face turned soft. He enjoyed it, taking a seat in a vacant chair and even leaning back slightly. As he listened to your song, he could imagine himself doing this more often, hearing you play and seeing you so delicately working the instrument, perhaps with some tea next time. It was alright that you snuck off this time, he supposed, hiding his smile behind his hand as he was glad he didn’t have to scold you.
Erwin Smith
Nocturnes: No. 1, Molto Moderato, in E flat major by Frédéric Chopin & John Field
It was rare to find a house with luxuries at this area, never mind one that has been abandoned and probably raided countless times. As you run your hand over the dusty piano lid, you wonder if it could possibly still work.
Erwin had just entered the room when you have propped the lid up and sit down on the piano bench. His eyes widen when you start playing a tune, one that for some reason sound familiar. You smile, playing more excitedly. “Seems like it has survived fairly well.” Some of the notes aren’t what they used to be, but it’s a miracle nonetheless.
The more the song carries on, he realizes where he’s heard it before. A friend of his father played the piano and he had played this song before. His admiration for you had already been great for the longest time, but this just increased it even more. Erwin had been no good at instruments himself, yet you played like it was your second nature. He makes a plan for himself to find a piano when the two of you return, wanting to hear more of your hidden talent.
Zeke Yeager
Gnossiennes |-||-||| (1890) by Erik Satie
People rarely came to this part of the wing, and since Zeke’s usual spot was closed off, he decided to go have a smoke on the balcony of the old music room. When he heard someone entering, he observed curiously, watching you sneak in. You pulled off the cover of off the grand piano, letting the sheet fall to the floor. He took drags from his cigarette, narrowed eyes watching your every move from a distance. It was always nice to see you, but what were you doing here?
You play some notes, testing yourself before you take a deep breath. Zeke’s cigarette drops from his lips as soon as you start playing. You carry the tune flawlessly and even he can tell its brimming with emotion. Where the hell had you been hiding this talent?
He listens patiently till you finish your song. He isn’t the best at judging emotions, but from the glances he catches of the side of your face, it seems that you are pouring your frustrations into it.
When you finish, he walks in, closing in on you from behind and putting his hands on your shoulders. You recognize who it is instantly as he leans forward, the scent of smoke carrying from his lips.
“It’s not fair to keep a talent like this hidden.” His hands rub at your shoulders and you feel pride swell in your chest. “Dedicate a song to me?” He asks playfully.
Reiner Braun
Nuvole Bianche by Ludovico Einaudi
Reiner feels ashamed that he didn’t know when he walks in on you playing the piano. He looks away in embarrassment when your eyes catch his. “Excuse me.” He says, already turning back to the door.
“Reiner!”
You stop playing. “This... it’s a new song I’ve learned. Can you stay and tell me if it sounds right?”
He turns back to you, your face showing that you are being earnest. Nodding his head, he strides over to you.
You tap the spot on the bench next to you with your hand and he sits down with a tiny smile.
You go back to the beginning, turning your sheet music accordingly. His gaze goes from your face to your hands as you play. Your fingers move over the keys so lightly, and something about it just makes him want to hold your hand. He holds himself back, not wanting to mess up the beautiful song you are creating.
When you are done, you ask him what he thought. “It was beautiful.” He tells you, beautiful like everything else you do.
Porco Galliard
Prelude in G minor Op. 23/5 by Sergei Rachmaninoff
Porco expected to find some stuffy man playing the piano, which is the case at most of these ‘prestige’ events, but instead he found you. “What the fuck?”
You shoot him a glare, trying your hardest to stay focused on your play. “Don’t throw me off, asshole.”
He doesn’t want to throw you off, he’s just baffled. It’s astounding that the same person who throws him in the dirt during every training is the same as the polished one he sees in front of him right now. From the way you play, there’s no doubt that you must have been doing this for a long time. He vaguely remembers you telling him that you used to take piano lessons, but he had no idea that you now did it professionally. As he watches you play, your eyes cast down to the keys and fingers moving across the length of the board at a rapid pace, he has to admit there’s something charming about it. He grins to himself, the night will be far more entertaining and pleasant on the eye than he had expected.
Colt Grice
Rêverie by Claude Debussy
Colt at first thinks he must be dreaming. The music, your radiant face, it fits right in. He’s not though, instead he has just stumbled onto yet another trait that makes him love you more. You take tiny glances at him as you play and he can tell you are happy he’s here. His palms feel sweaty and his cheeks heat up as he realizes how perfect of a moment it would be if he confessed his feelings now. If he could, he would blurt it out, but he can’t. Instead he continues watching you, building the courage inside him bit by bit.
Noticing that you are cracking your neck quite often, Colt comes over to stand behind you. He’s gentle as he touches your shoulders, seeing if you don’t move away from him before he massages your sore muscles. Little sighs pass by your lips as you continue playing your song, letting your head fall back when it’s finished.
“Thank you, I’m not used to playing for longer times anymore.” You sigh, putting one hand over his.
He flushes at your touch. “You play beautifully, so thank you for letting me hear it..”
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Text
Just The Way You Are
also on ao3
written for the Monster March prompt list prompt: horns and fangs
Jaskier has never understood why people call witchers monsters. It's true, they're different, but so are cats and dogs and horses and people like them just fine. Jaskier just sees Geralt as Geralt and always has. He's no different than any other person he's met - a little more coordinated and he dies a little less easy - but otherwise the same. People are so cruel and dismissive of Witchers, but Jaskier is a firm believer that they deserve nice things as much as the next person, maybe even more, and so, he decides to take it upon himself to do nice things for Geralt. Like surprise him in Kaedwen when he comes down from the keep.
Only it turns out Jaskier is the one to get a surprise. He's never understood why people call Witchers monsters. Not until now.
He spots the hooded figure passing between shops and he's sure it's Geralt, but he doesn't want to approach until he's absolutely certain. So he sneaks between the buildings, trying to get ahead of him and catch a glimpse of his face. Maybe-Geralt pauses in front of a stall and for a moment Jaskier thinks he's stopping to buy something, so he sneaks away, but when he comes around the other side of the house, he stops dead.
His breath catches and for a second, he's certain that even his heart stops beating.
The man in the market is certainly Geralt, he knows that now, but sprouting from the top of his head are two thick, curled horns. He tries to call out, but his mouth is dry and maybe it's for the best because Geralt’s expression darkens suddenly and he sniffs at the air.
For the first time, Jaskier considers that maybe Geralt meets him further south for a reason. Maybe he doesn't want Jaskier to see him like this, he obviously takes measures to ensure that he doesn't. Fuck. He's gone and fucked this up, too.
Ducking back behind the building, Jaskier holds his breath, hoping that Geralt hasn't caught his scent. He knows if he has there's nothing for it, he's caught, but maybe-
"Jaskier."
Geralt's voice is low, right on the edge of a growl, and Jaskier winces. When he looks over, the hood is back in place, but Geralt's teeth are bared and they're barely teeth at all - at least the canines - more like fangs. He swallows hard and risks a glance up at his eyes.
"What are you doing here?" Geralt demands, moving at once to pin Jaskier's shoulders against the wall. Jaskier doesn't know what to say. He shifts uncomfortably, unwilling to look Geralt in the face.
It's not the first time Geralt's been upset with him, but this time Jaskier’s intentions were genuine, he just didn't think it through all the way. Or rather, he hadn't considered that after fifteen years together, there are still things Geralt keeps from him. Deflated, Jaskier wrenches out of his grasp and picks up the bag he dropped when Geralt shoved him. He's embarrassed, feels like an idiot for thinking Geralt might be happy to see him and now on top of it, he's intruded on something he was never supposed to see.
Geralt doesn't stop him from walking away and Jaskier tries not to think too much about that.
He books a room at the inn and doesn't bother to go down for dinner. He doesn't know what to do with himself, because if he can't travel with Geralt - and he certainly didn't seem like he was happy to see him - what can he do? Certainly not go back to Oxenfurt and admit to all his peers that yet again, he was a fool and thought someone cared when they didn't.
It's just that fifteen years is a long time. Nearly half his life. And for Geralt who rarely lets himself form attachments well, Jaskier had thought maybe it meant something to Geralt. It did to him.
Jaskier doesn't even bother to put his things away before flopping onto the bed and staring up at the beams. Geralt had been so angry. He had just wanted to do something nice, he should have known showing up himself would not be welcome. But maybe this is for the best, maybe everyone was right when they told him he couldn't follow Geralt around forever.
But he had wanted to. For the last fifteen years of his life, Jaskier has wanted nothing more than to have Geralt in his life, even if nothing ever comes of it. He's never been greedy, never wanted more than he thought Geralt would be willing to give. And look where it's gotten him? Geralt doesn't even trust him enough to show him what he really looks like.
Geralt lingers as Jaskier hurries off away from him, and he can hardly blame him. He wouldn't stay either if he’d found out the person he'd been travelling with was a monster. Jaskier tries to convince him he's not, but the thought has always been there, nagging at him. He just hasn't seen you, it says and Geralt knows it's true. He is a monster. Whatever happened to him during that second round of trials took away the remaining sliver of humanity. He'd tried so hard to hide it, to try and keep Jaskier for just a little longer, but Jaskier shows up here and how is he supposed to plan for that?
And what is Jaskier doing here in the first place? Geralt needs this time to himself. Needs a chance to hole up and file down the horns and the fangs, to make himself presentable. To visit the brothel before returning to the torture that is travelling with Jaskier.
Jaskier showing up here had thrown him off. He'd been overcome with shock and confusion and fear. Fear that Jaskier would see him like this and hate him. Fear that this one minor incident would ruin everything he's worked so hard for.
Fear had taken over and he had reacted... badly. It's no wonder Jaskier had left him there, no wonder he didn't want to be seen with him when the first time Jaskier sees what he really looks like, he practically attacks him. Fuck, he really is the monster everyone always says he is.
After everything Jaskier has done to try and prove to the world that Witchers have been given a bad name, that they're not mindless, emotionless killing machines, this is how he repays him. He has to fix this, if not for him then for his brothers' reputation and for Jaskier's peace of mind. The last thing he wants is for Jaskier to think he's in any danger with him. With a sigh, he pulls his pack higher on his shoulder and heads toward the inn.
He catches the scent of Jaskier's perfume as soon as he walks through the door and it tugs at something in his chest. It's bright and floral, but there's a tinge of despair, of sadness intertwined with it. It's not fear though, and while Geralt struggles to comprehend that, the innkeeper passes over a key. Geralt follows the directions to his own room, ridding himself of his pack and swords. He strips his armour, leaving him in only a thin black shirt and his trousers. Before he leaves the room, he pulls his travelling cloak back over his head and shoulders.
He finds Jaskier's room in a matter of minutes and stands outside the door. He's faced griffins and fiends and hired assassins and none have come close to the fear that surges through him now. Because if he failed there, he just died, plain and simple; a fitting end for a Witcher. If he fails now, he loses the person most important to him. He's glad Jaskier isn't the one with heightened senses, glad that he doesn't know how long Geralt stands outside the door before lifting to hand to knock.
But he does. And as soon as he does, Geralt’s chest tightens and he wants to leave. There's a shuffling from within and then the door pulls in and Jaskier is right there. It catches him off guard and before he can consider what Jaskier might be thinking, he blurts out,
"Let me explain," and then doesn't know what to say. What do you say? What are you supposed to say to a man who's known you half his life and only now learns you have horns. Geralt shifts, looking at him. Jaskier says nothing, but he moves aside, letting Geralt come into the room. The door shuts behind him and a wave of fear crashes down over him.
Jaskier looks sad, confused, hurt. He doesn't know where to start.
"I know you're mad and I understand-"
"You're the one who slammed me into a building," Jaskier chokes. The anger is there, Geralt expected it, but it's being smothered by something else, something stronger, like ivy around a sapling.
"I'm sorry," he winces. He is. He never meant to hurt Jaskier, not emotionally and certainly not physically. "I was... scared. I saw you and I didn't know what to do." His shoulders slump and he turns to look out the window, jaw clenched. "You're not supposed to see me like this."
"And why not?" Jaskier asks. The anger is toned down slightly, the other feeling still there but not so harsh. Geralt doesn't like it, doesn't like the feeling of it or the way it makes Jaskier's voice breaks and he wishes it would go away all together, but he doesn't know how to do that.
"I'm- Look at me, Jaskier. I'm a monster. I'm exactly what they say I am. A mutant, a freak." The anger scent remains, but it takes a sharp turn, twisting into something much more recognizable. Something he knows from tavern brawls and holding Jaskier back when they’re on the road when someone makes a snide comment.
"You absolutely are not. You're a liar and a terrible friend, but you're not a monster."
"What-"
"Why did you keep this from me?" Jaskier asks, that other feeling creeping up to regain dominance.
"I thought you'd-" Geralt drops his chin, staring at the floorboards between them. There's a crack down the center of one of them and he focuses on that instead of the sound of Jaskier's voice. "You were the only one who stuck around. You met me during the spring when they're shaved down and I- I was selfish."
"How?" Jaskier prompts. He sounds impatient, but excited, like he's anticipated what Geralt is going to say. But if he had, he wouldn't be happy about it.
"I didn't want you to hate me. I didn't want you to leave me. So I hid it from you. I became good at keeping them filed low during the warmer months and let them grow out during the winter. I didn't- it's why I never asked you to join me in Kaer Morhen."
Jaskier squints at him, disbelieving or confused, he's not sure, but the look is piercing and Geralt feels transparent under it, like Jaskier can tell every thought in his head. But he knows how that feels and this is not it. Jaskier is making assumptions if anything. Not that that thought is any less horrifying under the circumstances.
"So let me get this straight," Jaskier says, calmly, cooly. Too calm. "You once rescued me from the den of an incubus you thought would kill me if he tried to fuck me. Again, I might add. If you recall you walked in in the middle of it. You stopped me from leaving the bar with a vampiress one time because, and I quote, you don't need any help losing blood, and one time you intentionally gave me space to continue a quite lovely conversation with a, particularly amenable centaur. But you thought horns were a bit too much for me? Is that what I'm to understand Geralt?"
He doesn't know what to say to that. It's not just the horns, he supposes. But he doesn't need to give Jaskier another reason not to travel with him. Melitele knows there are enough of those already.
"Am I to believe that you're daft enough to believe that after fifteen years of traipsing over the continent with you, of writing you songs and cooking you supper and tending to your wounds- that horns would be the final straw? Geralt if you haven't noticed I've fucked dozens of people who are, to put it indelicately, much less human than you."
Geralt isn't sure how Jaskier's sex life is relevant, but he says nothing.
"I actually like them," Jaskier says, eyeing the hood. "Could I... look at them?"
Reluctantly, Geralt reaches up and pushes the hood back. The air feels cool on his head and he feels incredibly exposed letting Jaskier see him like this, but he shuts his eyes and ducks his head as Jaskier takes a step toward him.
"Can I touch?"
The air is punched from Geralt's lungs with that one simple question and he nods slowly, tucking his chin a little closer into his chest. Jaskier brushes his fingers along the curve of the left horn and the only way Geralt knows he's touching him is the way he hums with intrigue, similar to the way he hums at his lute when it's newly strung. He takes his time, reaching right down to the base and touching the more sensitive skin there. It doesn't hurt, but it ignites Geralt's instinct to protect himself, makes him feel like he should pull away, hide this from Jaskier again.
When Jaskier touches his head, he does. He's not sure what it is about the touch, maybe that he can fully feel it, but it snaps his restraint and he pulls back, breathless.
"Sorry," Jaskier whispers, "did it hurt?"
"No," Geralt admits, "just... unusual. No one's ever touched them before. Maybe Eskel when he helped me file them down the first few times."
"Why don't we," Jakier suggests, "come sit on the bed, take your cloak and your boots off. I'd like to get a better look at them. if that's okay?"
Geralt nods and Jaskier's hands are on him before he removes his cloak himself. He undoes the clasp with no effort, draping the cloak over his arm before directing Geralt to the bed. This is... not at all how he expected this to go down, but at least Jaskier hasn't turned him away yet. He toes off his boots and sits back on the mattress, leaning against the wall with his feet at the edge.
In a moment, Jaskier climbs up over him, making himself perfectly at home in Geralt's lap.
"There," he says proudly, "it's much easier to see like this and you won't' end up with a crick in your neck." Geralt remains silent, worried that he doesn't know the situation well enough to comment.
Jaskier's hands slip into his hair again, fingers looping around the base of both horns and he feels the faint tug and Jaskier slips up, following the curve of them with his hands.
"Do you brothers have them?" he asks. Geralt shakes his head.
"Second trials" he explains. "Lost the pigment in my hair and grew fucking horns."
"I like them."
Jaskier continues his ministrations, apparently happy to just sit and touch and nothing else. And Geralt relaxes under the touch, even if he can barely feel it. Jaskier isn't angry with him, doesn't hate him, and for now, that can be enough, But the air between them grows thick. He doesn't notice it right away, too preoccupied with Jaskier touching his horns, but the scent is what alerts him. Spicy, earthy, floral.
It's nice, he thinks absently, familiar and enticing. But he doesn't think too much about it. Not until Jaskier's little hums become softer, sweeter. The realization hits him so abruptly he nearly snaps his head back up, but he doesn't want to give Jaskier any more reason to leave him, although, maybe that's not as much of a problem as he thought.
"Are you... aroused by this?"
Jaskier huffs a little laugh, awkward, but not uncomfortable. "I just think they're sexy."
"Oh."
"Why, does it turn you on?"
"No," Geralt snorts, "I can barely feel it. If I could filing them down would be excruciating."
"Right," Jaskier realizes and Geralt can sense the thinly veiled horror in his voice."Anything else I should know about?"
Somewhat reluctantly, Geralt opens his mouth and pulls his lip back. He'd be horrified at the way Jaskier gasps if he couldn't smell the arousal wafting off of him.
"Fuck, Geralt, that's-" he reaches out, pressing the pad of his thumb to the point of Geralt's fang and smiles. It's a faint sort of thing, more amusing than outright joy, but he's fascinated and right now that's good enough.
Jaskier's finger slips along his bottom teeth, but Geralt shifts under him, dislodging him, and Jaskier's fingers brush his bottom lip before slipping forward, sliding between his lips and pressing against his tongue. Geralt's skin prickles just at the thought of it and when he looks up at Jaskier, he finds him wide-eyed and intrigued.
Their eyes meet and Jaskier holds his gaze. Then, cautiously, withdraws his fingers and runs them along the swell of Geralt's bottom lip, eyes dropping to watch the way they press against it.
"Geralt?" he whispers and Geralt realizes he's been so focused on Jaskier's fingers that he hasn't been paying attention to anything else. He's surprised to find he's got his hands settled on Jaskier's hips. His eyes flick down to his hands, then quickly back up to Jaskier's. The moment they meet again, his willpower snaps and he hauls Jaskier forward, one hand slipping to the back of his head to guide him.
The moment their lips collide, Geralt realizes this was inevitable. That one day Jaskier was bound to find out and want to know about them. His reaction though, Geralt never could have anticipated.
Geralt is... kissing him. It takes a second for his brain to catch up with what his body has already realized and he breaks the kiss with a jolt.
"You're not mad at me," he pants and Geralt just stares at him for a moment.
"No, I told you, I was afraid-"
"That I'd leave you." Jaskier finishes. Geralt nods. "I'd never leave you." He leans in again, trying for a softer, gentler kiss, but the way Geralt's hands press against him sends sparks across his skin.
Jaskier leans into it, parting his lips to deepen the kiss and Geralt's hand slips to his waist, one big, warm hand curling around his side. He pushes into the touch. It's not often he feels small or delicate with a lover, but Geralt does that for him and it's hotter than it has any right to be.
He parts his lips, deepening the kiss and Geralt moans softly against him. It's the most beautiful sound Jaskier has ever heard and he responds in kind, desperate to hear that sound again.
When they part again, Jaskier's breathing heavily and, much to his delight, so is Geralt. He leans back a little, far enough to look at Geralt's face, but not far enough to keep from touching him. He takes in the golden eyes staring back at him, the point of his teeth where Geralt's lips are parted, and the horns. Fuck, Geralt must be an idiot to think he wouldn't want him like this.
"Can I touch you- the rest of you?" he asks and Geralt grunts a yes, surging forward to hold him again.
Geralt gets both arms around him this time, lifting him off the mattress and rising to his knees. He shifts them so he's facing the head of the bed and as he settles, gently lays Jaskier back against the mattress. His head hits the pillow and Geralt settles between his thighs, slipping his hands over Jaskier's hips.
Jaskier reaches up to him, running his hands over Geralt's shoulders, down his arms. He follows the lines of his chest through his shirt, straight down to his trousers where he tugs the fabric free. His fingers slip beneath it and he sighs at the warmth of Geralt's skin on his fingertips. Geralt shudders against him and it gives Jaskier the encouragement he needs. Carefully, he curls his hands around the hem of Geralt's shirt, lifting it up and tugging it over his head.
He inhales sharply and Geralt pulls back just slightly. Jaskier is quick to explain his misunderstanding, slipping his hands around the back of Geralt's neck and sliding them down his shoulders.
"You're beautiful," he whispers.
"You've seen me naked a dozen times this week, Jaskier."
"Not like this."
And it's true. He's seen Geralt naked more times than he can count and he knows Geralt is sexy, knows the lines of his chest better than he should for never having seen them up close, but he's never seen him like this. Geralt is soft like this, so close, and Jaskier is allowed to touch him, Jaskier is allowed to look.
He brushes his fingertips over his nipples. Geralt gives a little gasp and his eyelids flutter.
"Wouldn't think it makes a difference," Geralt mumbles and Jaskier realizes he thinks he's talking about the horns.
"Oh it does, my darling, but I mean like this," he says, pulling Geralt lower over him. "Where I'm allowed to touch you."
"You're always allowed," Geralt mumbles, chin dripping to inadvertently give Jsskier a better look at his horns. He reaches out, slipping his fingers down to the point again. "I just... can't help the way I react when I'm too close to you."
"What do you mean?"
"You make me want things I shouldn't, make me think about things I can't have-"
"Bullshit. What shouldn't you have? What can't you have?"
Geralt lifts his head to look at him, meeting his eyes for a moment and then, "you," he says sadly. Jaskier doesn't give a chance to respond before Geralt continues, evidently relieved to get this off his chest. "You spread your affection so wide, in every town and village and I- it's different with me. You're soft and kind, but how could you want... you have your choice of any person on the continent, how could I-'' he cuts himself off with a sound that Jaskier would call a sob from anyone else.
"What are you saying, Geralt? You don't think I could want you? Do you know how ridiculous that sounds?"
Geralt just snorts at him and moves to pull away, but Jaskier rolls him onto his back and straddles his hips.
"Do you know how wonderful you are?" He pushes his hands through Geralt's chest hair, pressing his fingertips into his skin. "How could I not want you? Do you see me following anyone else around?"
"You're always with someone, always inviting someone else into your bed-"
"Because you wouldn't have me. Or, I thought-" He shifts a little, and suddenly Geralt's hands are sliding up his back, pressing him down against him.
"You thought wrong," he breathes, and then he's kissing him again, soft and slow. One hand slips up into his hair and Jaskier sighs against his lips, letting his eyes fall shut.
He slumps against Geralt's chest, pressing his hands to either side of Geralt's face and he kisses him softly. He pours all of his affection into ever, every feeling he's never been able to share with Geralt, every little thought that he's thought would be too much for him. He rocks against him, pressing their bodies together. He wants to feel Geralt, to be as close as he can for whatever time he has with him.
But then Geralt is pressing back, arching off the bed and wrapping one arm tightly around Jsskier's back until they're so close Jaskier can barely move. He nips at Geralt's lips, pushing back the words that bubble to the surface, the words he wants so desperately to say. He's been holding back for years and maybe now he's allowed? Maybe now Geralt would be amenable - her certainly seems to be so far.
And Jaskier is so caught up in the thought, in the idea of being able to tell Geralt how he feels, that he doesn't realize he's being rolled over until he's on his back and Geralt isn't touching him anymore. He rises to his knees, breaking the kiss only to mouth at Jsskier's jaw and down the side of his neck.
Geralt nips at his collarbone, runs his tongue along the ridge of it and sucks at the skin just below. There will be marks in the morning, Jaskier is sure of it, and he's already itching to look at them. But Geralt doesn't give him much of a chance to think about it before he's nuzzling at Jaskier's neck again, the tips of his fangs just barely brushing against his skin. And Jaskier shudders. The motion goes through his whole body and a soft whine escapes his lips. How the fuck Geralt ever thought seeing him like this would be a bad thing is beyond him.
"Jaskier," he whispers, "I want you. Can I?"
"Anything," Jaskier gasps, "please Geralt, anything."
Geralt hums against him and meets his eyes for just a second before lowering them again to Jaskier's chest. He presses soft kisses into the skin, slipping down to nuzzle into his chest hair and Jsskier is preoccupied with the warmth of his breath and then Geralt's fingers brush over a nipple and he cries out, arching off the bed as Geralt pinches it between his fingertips. It's still gentle, still softer than he's used to, but it's Geralt.
It's Geralt touching his chest and kissing his neck and playing with his nipples. It's Geralt kneeling over him and Geralt breathing against his skin and it's... a lot. Automatically, Jaskier reaches out to him, pulling Geralt close so he can bury his face in his neck.
Geralt works a hand between them, slipping down to fumble with the clasps on Jaskier's trousers and then he's pulling away just enough to be able to undo the clasps. Jaskier groans as his trousers are shoved away, discarded off the side of the bed, but then Geralt is fumbling with the buttons on his own and a wave of heat engulfs him.
This is really happening.
In his 33 years, Jaskier has slept with kings and queens, counts and countesses, and he's never wanted someone so badly as he wants Geralt. It makes him a little anxious and he has to swallow back his self-doubt as Geralt shifts out of his clothes and settles on his knees between Jaskier's thighs.
Without breaking the kiss, he slips his arms under Jaskier's knees, pressing them back against him until he's leaning over him again. Geralt deepens the kiss, pressing down on him and Jaskier groans despite himself. Geralt's cock brushes against his hip and he's hard. It tugs at something deep inside him and Jaskier wraps his arms around Geralt's neck, fingers pushing into his hair.
He shifts against the mattress and Geralt pulls his arms back. His mouth doesn't leave Jaskier's, even as he reaches for something off the side of the bed. When he settles again, he's got a bottle in his hand and Jaskier whimpers at the thought of it.
Geralt draws away, breaking the kiss with a hum and kissing down Jaskier's chest. He doesn't hesitate to wrap his mouth around the head of his cock and then he's bobbing gently, sliding halfway down his cock and slipping back to the head. Jaskier's eyes drop shut and he focuses on the feel of him, the warmth of his mouth, the softness of his hair in his hands.
When one of Geralt's hands presses against him, he hums encouragingly but doesn't move otherwise, afraid of breaking whatever spell he's under. He doesn't want to risk ending this, doesn't want to risk almost losing Geralt again.
Geralt slips a finger into him and Jaskier reaches up, smoothing his hands up the curve of Geralt's horns. He tries to keep steady, to keep from getting too worked up, but it's hard. Because this is Geralt, this is something he's wanted for years - what if it goes badly? What if it's terrible and Geralt no longer wants him?
A second finger presses into him and Jaskier gasps, startled from his thoughts. Geralt's eyes meet his and he looks worried, questioning.
"Is this too much?" he asks, "we don't have to-"
"No. No, I want you, I want this. Please." Jaskier's fingers slip to the base of his horns, brushing almost nervously where the flesh meets horn. "I just want to be good enough for you."
"You are," Geralt says immediately, "more than enough."
Their lips met again and Geralt's fingers press in a little more firmly. Heat rolls up Jaskier's spine, but he's not aching for it, he's not desperate to come. His cock is hard against his hip, but he wants to be close to Geralt. He wants his arms around him, wants to wrap his legs around Geralt's waist and just press himself against him. He wants the press of skin on skin, unhindered by clothes or blankets of any number of things that have kept them apart in the past.
He just wants Geralt and it doesn't matter how.
When Geralt finally pushes into him, Jaskier groans at the stretch. It's good, so good, and Geralt presses down against him again. Jaskier takes the opportunity to wrap around him and they move together easily, as though they were built for each other. Geralt kisses and nips and Jaskier loves so deeply he can't cope.
He hates the tears that bead in the corners of his eyes, hates the emotion that threatens to tear him apart and he buried his head in Geralt's neck to distract himself. Before he can get his arms around him properly, Geralt pulls back. As soon as he sees his face, Geralt's features pinch together.
"Jaskier-"
"Fuck," Jaskier whines weakly, "Geralt."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Jaskier whimpers. He reaches up to Geralt, wanting to pull him close again. He doesn't want Geralt to see him, doesn't want him thinking he's too much, too emotional.
Geralt guides him back against the mattress and detangles their arms, leaning up on one elbow. Jaskier is embarrassed. He's a renowned lover, known for giving his partners the greatest pleasure and in the face of Geralt and one tiny bit of genuine affection, he breaks down.
He crosses his arms over his face but Geralt just wraps gentle fingers around his wrists and pulls them back.
"Hey," he whispers and there's worry in his voice that only makes Jaskier shudder. He chokes on a sob and turns his face, pressing his forehead against Geralrt's wrist.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, but Geralt just brushes his thumb over his forehead.
"For what?"
"I'm... " he doesn't know what to say. A mess? too much? not good enough for you? "okay."
"Jask, you're crying. Is it me?"
"No," he blurts, "no, Geralt, I-" a gentle thumb presses beneath his eye, wiping a tear away and that only makes it worse. "I love you," he whispers, so quiet he's sure no one will hear it. But Geralt, aside from his horns and his fangs, has sensitive hearing.
"And that's... bad." He says. It's not a question.
"No. No, but I- I fucked up. I almost lost you-"
"Jaskier," Geralt says softly, "you didn't. I was afraid you'd hate me like this, that you'd see me as the monster everyone else does. I was angry because I thought I was going to lose you."
"I know I'm a lot to put up with-"
"You're not."
Jaskier huffs a wet laugh. "I talk too much and I get in trouble you have to get me out of and I'm too slow and too annoying and too-" Geralt quiets him with a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.
"Once," he says, "at a tavern in Posada, I would have believed those things. I don't anymore." He brushes his fingers down Jaskier's side, settling his palm against his hip. "If I really thought you were too much, I wouldn't be here now." He dips down, kissing him on the mouth again.
Jaskier can't help but sink into it and when Geralt shifts back on top of him, Jaskier winds around his neck again. Geralt breaks the kiss, kissing Jaskier's jaw and down his neck.
"We can stop if you want?"
"No," Jaskier mumbles.
"What do you need?"
"Just... you."
"Yeah," Geralt breathes, "yeah, okay."
He shifts his hips, resuming his slow but steady rhythm and Jaskier clings to him. He can't believe he came so close to losing Geralt tonight, to losing him and losing this forever. A swell of emotion threatens to rise up again and overwhelm him, but he kisses Geralt, holds him tight and focuses on the weight of his body against his own.
His fingers trail absently around the base of a horn, bumping over the uneven skin there. The horns themselves are smoother than expected, probably because they're so fresh, but he likes the sensation of them under his fingers and Geralt seems pleased about it.
Sparks skitter across Jaskier's skin as Geralt's pace quickens and he gaps against his mouth as Geralt rocks into his prostate. Even when Geralt's lips aren't on him, they hover above his skin, hot breath creating goosebumps in its wake. And when he kisses him, it seems a tremor audit through Jaskier's body, making his heart beat quicker and his toes curl in the sheets. He's never felt this way with anyone, never found himself chasing closeness before an orgasm, but he likes it.
He likes the sleekness of Geralt's horn under his palm, the tickle of his hair as it brushes his bare skin, the tackiness is dying away on Geralt's skin. All of it. He draws him close again, just as Geralt's hips give a little snap and it knocks the breath out of him.
"Can I touch you?" Geralt asks and Jaskier knows he won't last long with Geralt's hand on him, but for once that doesn't seem important.
"Please," he whispers and Geralt's palm slips up the underside of his cock, making him shudder.
"Good?" he asks and Jaskier just nods, a small sound escaping his lips as he rocks his hips into the touch.
Geralt's fingers wrap around him and it's like a wave of heat washing over him. Jaskier's entire body burns for him, arches off the bed to get closer to him. Geralt takes him apart so easily and it's only a matter of minutes before he's gasping for it, groaning his need into Geralt's shoulder.
Geralt rocks into him, stroking him in time with his thrusts and when he kisses him again, Jaskier shatters. He groans against Geralt's lips, rocking back onto him as he spills between them. His thighs shake and his arms feel like noodles around Geralt's neck, but he holds him closer anyway.
He's still breathless when Geralt's hips snap forward again and Jaskier can tell he's close in the way he shudders as he rocks into him. He tangles his fingers in Geralt's hair, kisses him hard. He wants this to be good, wants Geralt to know that he's safe here, he can be happy here.
When Geralt comes, it's with a quiet moan against Jaskier's chest and he stays there for a moment, breathing against his skin. When he pulls away, he wraps his arms around Jaskier's shoulder, pulling him onto his side so they're still facing each other. Neither speaks and Geralt kisses him again, slow and gentle. His hand comes up to cup the back of his head, and Jaskier hums softly against his lips.
They part again on a shaky breath and Jaskier bumps his forehead against Geralt's. He doesn't want to ask him to stay, he's still too afraid to hear him say no. But he doesn't want Geralt to go. It's already hard enough losing him over the winter, he can't bear the thought of being parted any longer than that. He shuts his eyes and presses close, pacified by the way Geralt's arm tightens around him.
"Next winter," Geralt mumbles, abrupt, "come with me. There's nothing left for me to hide and I... miss you over the winter. I worry about you." Jaskier's heart soars, despite his best efforts to keep his emotions restrained.
"You'd want me there?" he asks, "with your brothers?"
"Yeah. And they've been bugging me about it since I first mentioned you."
"You talk about me?" Jaskier asks, pulling back to look at him. Geralt tips his head up, golden eyes shining even in the dim light.
"Of course. You're-" he pauses as though unsure of what exactly Jaskier is. "I love you, too," he whispers at last, eyes lowered.
It feels like a dream, like any moment Jaskier will wake up and be back hiding behind that building or worse - alone in his room. But when he kisses him, Geralt is warm and solid against him and Jaskier buries himself in that warmth.
He will never, could never, understand how anyone can see this man as a monster.
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diaryofabeautyfiend · 3 years ago
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It Had to be Witches
Dean and Sam are on a hunt at Rowena’s request. When Sam is out of commission, Dean has to work with you.
Warnings: Unprotected p in v (wrap it before you tap it!) male oral receiving, fingering, mention’s of witchcraft, brief mentions of ritual style murders, brief mention of animal sacrifice, Dean is a sad boy.
Word count: 3567
All written and proofread (poorly) by me. All mistakes are my own. Please don’t copy or repost my work. Likes are great and I’ll love you forever if you repost and comment. Thanks for reading.
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Sam and Dr. Philips examined each of the women’s bodies. Carved into their limbs were runes consistent with the ones Rowena described. She said she was sending an expert who lived in the area but the boys hadn’t made contact yet.
“The other agent who was just here asked the same questions. Don’t you guys talk to each other?” Dr. Philips covered the bodies. Some of the women he knew personally.
“Different departments. You said he was just here? How long ago?”
“She. Her name is Diana Luna. She’s down at the evidence locker. All the women had the same necklace. She went to check it out.”
Sam thanked the doctor and set off to find you. First he called Dean. “Looks like Rowena’s story checks out. Her expert was just here. The bodies were marked with runes and all of their tongues cut out. And, get this, they all had the same necklace. Maybe a coven?”
“Of course. Of course it’s witches, Sam. Look, don’t go far. I’m on my way.” Sam was sitting on a bus bench reading coroner's reports when you approached him. Due to the nature of the case, Rowena insisted the elder Winchester carry out the task at hand. “Use Sam as bait.” she instructed.
“Agent Cornell? I’m agent Luna from the Lansing office.” You extended your hand. “Director Macleod sent me.”
“Yeah, I bet she did. Bring me up to speed.”
“Sure. I’ve got what you’re looking for right here.” You blew a very potent powder in his face knocking him out. You put the lankier Winchester into your truck and sped back to your house. Getting his dead weight up the stairs was a task but you did it. “Sweet dreams, Sam.”
Dean searched the entire town square for Sam with no luck. He tried his phone again and it was going directly to voicemail. Sam could hold his own against any witch but Dean was still worried. As he unlocked the door to the Impala, he heard you call his name over his shoulder and turned his head to see who was speaking. You blew the dream dust into his face rendering him unconscious.
He was heavier than he looked. You shoved him into the back seat and pried the keys from his hand. Baby growled angrily when she started but you had her purring for you in no time. You drove him back to your house and dragged him inside where you intended to tie him up. Rowena coached you on all their tricks. You took off his jacket, rolled up his sleeves and divested him if anything sharp. With his wrists and ankles bound in a pretty decent slip knot you splashed his face with water to wake him.
“Morning, handsome.” he smirked as you wiped his face.
“Big mistake, sweetheart. I’m guessing you’re the one we’re looking for.”
“Pretty and dumb. Rowena was right and you would be guessing wrong. Her name is Teresa Wilson. She came seeking asylum with our coven a few months ago. Said her whole order was obliterated. Turns out, she wasn’t exactly who she said she was.”
His face split into a cocky grin, “They never are. What do you want with me?”
“You need to help me find her. Rowena gave me a locator spell. When I cast the spell, I’ll need your fancy bullets. Problem is…”
He laughed heartily, “Problem is you can’t touch ‘em, am I right, sweetheart?”
“You would be correct.”
“And what’s in it for me?”
You took a step back just out of his reach just in case, “If you help me I’ll let your brother live.”
He strained against the ropes veins bulging in his forearms. “If you touch one hair on his head I’ll rip you apart myself. You hear me, witch?”
Your nails dug sharp into the meat of his cheeks so he would look at you. “Relax, baby. Your brother is safe. He’s asleep upstairs dreaming of puppies and rainbows as we speak. But if you don’t help me, he’ll never wake up. And, Dean, when I kill someone, it sticks. No resurrections for Sammy this time.”
You’ve never seen a human man snarl before. It was pretty cute. Rowena warned you not to be mesmerized by his sweet face and his Disney Princess eyes but you couldn’t help it. The man looked like he would, in fact, rip you apart. And, Hecate help you, you wished he would. You traced a finger along his sharp stubble covered jaw. His eyes turned up to look into yours, throwing daggers at you. “Anyone ever tell you how cute you are when you’re angry?”
“All the time. Get to the spell so I can take my brother out of here.” he growled.
“It’s not time. If I untie you, are you gonna be a good boy or do I have to hit you with my knock out dust again?” You couldn’t take your eyes off of his perfect lips smiling at you.
“Sure, mommy, I’ll be a real good boy.”
You knelt in front of him and parted his knees slightly to undo the first knot. “Such a smart ass.” He growled low in his throat when you peered at him through your lashes. His dick grew painfully hard against his jeans as you slid your hand up his legs to maintain balance. Of course you noticed though he tried to squeeze his thighs together to hide his arousal. “Do you like me like this, Dean?”
Of course he did. You were just his type. A little bratty but you had a good heart. Rowena told them about you. The little warrior for the Grand Council. They constantly sent you to do their dirty work and you did so without question like a good soldier. No wonder Rowena paired the two of you. You were the female version of him. “Like what?” His voice was low and dripping with need.
“On my knees for you. Looks like you do.” You winked at him but he looked away embarrassed.
It had been a long time since he felt a woman wrapped hot around him. Everything in him wanted to follow your siren song and happily crash. He couldn’t do it. This story always ended bloody. “You couldn’t handle it, sweetheart.” He peered down at the bulge in his pants. So did you. Your core heated at the thought.
“Is that a dare or a double dare?.” He spread his legs and licked his lips inviting you to take what you wanted. You shook it off and focused on the task at hand. “Well in any case, I made you dinner. Pot roast, potatoes, peas and carrots. Eat if you want.”
It did smell amazing. His stomach growled remembering that all he had was coffee this morning. The living room and kitchen were well lit and warm. He felt at peace in this place. More so than the bunker where it could sometimes feel clinical and cold. “You got a pretty nice place here. You all alone?”
A sly smile played on your lips, “Just me.” You sat the plate down in front of him with a cold beer and a bottle opener. The oven timer dinged and, when you opened the door, the aroma of cinnamon and spice wafted through the air.
“That pie?” He sounded choked up.
“Apple. I have an orchard in the back. Rowena filled me in on how to keep you happy.” You sit it on the windowsill to cool while you ate. “I can’t have you bashing me over the head and running off before we kill this bitch.”
He shoveled a fork full of potatoes and gravy into his mouth humming in appreciation. “Why me? You had Sam here. He’s much better at this witch stuff than I am. Why drag me out here?”
“You’re more reliable when making difficult decisions. You’re what I need. Another beer?” He nodded breathing in the soft floral scent that wafted off of your skin as you moved.
You didn’t offer any further information and Dean thought that was probably for the best. If he got in his head about the situation he would lose his nerve and that can’t happen. That’s how people die. As of late, Sam has had a lot on his mind. Dean would have to shoulder this burden. At least Sammy was getting some rest.
The two of you shared a comfortable silence only marred by silverware hitting ceramic. “Well that was delicious. Thank you….umm…I don’t think I caught your name.”
“I didn’t give it to you. I’m Y/N. But I wouldn’t mind if you kept calling me sweetheart. Pie?”
Dean's heart beat hard in his chest at the thought of calling you sweetheart “Maybe a little. So when do we do this thing?”
“Eat your pie then meet me outside. I have to prepare.” You slipped out the back door down a dimly lit path to your cauldron. You threw in the mandrake and tobacco. Last was the chicken that you had to slaughter. You grabbed a hen from her coop and stabbed her with your athame. It made a terrible sound which sent Dean flying through the back door ready to fight.
“What the hell was that?”
“Chicken.” You allowed the rest of its blood to drain and discarded the carcass. “periisti. lates. Ego te quaero. I vestrum adprehendet vos.” You chanted over and over until a glowing beacon appeared. “We have to follow it.” The orb circled the two of you then floated towards the Impala. You retrieved his keys from your pocket and started off for the car.
“Whoa whoa whoa. What are you doing?”
“Following the orb.” He grabbed your arm as you started to slide into the driver’s seat.
“No one drives my baby but me. You sit shotgun.” He impatiently waited for you to scoot over. When you reached for the radio he slapped your hand away. “Are you serious?!”
“What? There were other decades besides the 70’s.” He bit his lip and flared his nostrils letting out an unsettling growl. “Driver picks the music.”
“You are a child. Just drive. The spell won’t last forever” you huffed.
“So, just you huh? No boyfriend? Girlfriend?” You didn’t answer keeping your eyes trained on the orb. “Yeah me neither. Maybe later we can grab a drink.”
“My god. Can you keep it in your pants until we’re done? It took a left!”
He sped up taking off after it, “I see it. So that’s not a no.” That was all the invitation he needed. The truth was you would have given it up the moment those green eyes stared into your soul.
“It’s not a no. Let’s focus.”
Baby ate up miles of dirt road before reaching the highway. A couple of miles ahead the orb sped for an exit into town. You were led to the motel where the boys were staying. The door to their room was wide open and there Teresa stood bathed in the light of the orb. You bid it a job well done and sent it on its way.
Teresa, caught off guard, quickly muttered a spell pinning Dean to the wall, sending the gun skittering away. You faced each other down while Dean struggled. “She’s a kid!” he groaned in pain.
“I’m nineteen thank you. You don’t have to do this Y/N. Come on. We’re sisters. We share the same DNA. Let’s take them on together.” Tears welled in your eyes. You may have been blood but you weren’t sisters. She grew up far out of the Grand Council’s reach while you were their trained lap dog.
“Only half little sister. You’re hopped up on enough stolen magic to power the entire city. The Grand Council sent me to take you down. Adiuro te in nomine Hecate. Adiuro te in nomine Dianae. Tuae vires cum luna decrescant.” you chanted. She fought back but the binding spell was powerful. She didn’t have enough magic to hold Dean and fight you so she let him go. When he regained composure, he dove for the gun.
Without warning, Teresa gained the upper hand. She held out her arm and used all of her might to pull you towards her. Blood stained tears fell from your eyes as you struggled to breath. With every last ounce of strength you had you doubled down on the binding spell long enough to hold her so that Dean could put her down. The blast of the shot filled the small motel room filling your ears with a high pitched whining. You collapsed onto the floor where Dean scooped you into his arms.
“Hey, Y/N. Wake up. Stay with me. Shit.” He carried you to the car and gingerly set you down next to him. The drive back to your house felt long. When he got you inside he placed you on the couch and called Rowena.
“Is it done then?” she asked in her thick Scottish brogue.
“Yeah but your girl’s unconscious. She’s breathing but she used a lot of magic. A lot. I don’t think you’ll be calling on her anytime soon.”
“Keep her warm, Dean. I’ll be there soon.” The line went dead. He sat on the floor in front of you and brushed your hair from your eyes.
“Sweetheart, you need to wake up. We were supposed to grab that drink, remember?” He pressed his lips to your temple lingering there for a moment when he heard Rowena’s laugh trill behind him.
“I should add matchmaker to my long list of talents. Out of the way, Dean. I’ll get your girl fixed right up.” She patted his hand and pushed him aside.
His face flushes hot burning all the way to his ears. ”She’s not my girl.”
“Of course. Now, what seems to be the trouble, dear?” She placed her hands on your head. Her eyes glowed as she spoke over you. Your lashes began to flutter and you woke up. “There she is. Good as new.” You and Dean exchanged a look. “That appears to be my cue to go check on Samuel.”
“Thank you, Rowena.” your voice was hoarse barely above a whisper.
“Not at all, dear.”
Dean pulled you into his lap rocking you gently, “You scared the hell out of me, sweetheart.”
“I had to stop her. She hurt too many people.” You felt guilty for ending her but even guiltier for letting her go as far as she did. Guiltier still for not pushing harder to be in her life. “It was my fault.”
“Hey, no it wasn’t. What? You think you should have been a better big sister? You didn’t lead her down this path, Y/N.” You rested your head on his shoulder “All these years and all the stupid fucked up shit Sam and I did, I blamed myself. I took on that burden. Alone. It’s a lonely awful place to be. I’m begging don’t do that to yourself.” He held your face in his hands forcing you to look at him. He wanted to kiss you. You would have let him if he leaned in. Instead he brought you back down to his chest just to hold you. He saw so much of himself in you. You were headstrong and self righteous but your intentions were altruistic.
You melted into his arms so lost in him that you didn’t hear Sam and Rowena slip out. Dean offered his brother only a small nod to let him know you were ok. He had several texts from Eileen anyway. Happy to see his brother didn’t have to spend another night alone, he went back to the bunker.
You sat in silence for a while when you started yawning. “Shit. What time is it?”
“After midnight. I should get outta here.” You untangled yourself from his grasp but didn’t stand. His hands stayed respectfully at the small of your back. You locked eyes with him. Your core tingled as he brushed errant hair from your forehead.
“Or you could stay. We haven’t had our drink yet. Though, you don’t need to get me drunk, handsome.” You kissed his jaw and down his neck working your way to his collarbone. A soft moan escaped his lips when you nipped at his neck. “I mean you enjoyed me on my knees and all.”
“As pretty as you looked,” his voice was low and gravelly, “And, I mean you looked gorgeous. We really shouldn’t.”
You genuinely pouted your lips backing off of your ministrations, “Why not? I want to. And you clearly want to. You’re a fucking legend, Dean. Show me just how legendary you are.”
He arched a brow at you and smirked in the way that only Dean Winchester does. “Flattery will get you everywhere, sweetheart.” Finally his lips were on yours. The force of his kiss took your breath away. It wasn’t predatory or greedy. It was slow and sensuous bordering on hunger. His whole body was hungry for you. Dean Winchester was hungry constantly looking for something to fill the hole inside him. For the moment, that was you. He felt like he was floating and was suddenly very warm. If he stopped kissing you he knew he would just stop breathing. He couldn’t bare the thought.
“What are you doing to me?” His chest heaved. “I feel like I’m on fire.” Surely this must be a spell or enchantment. He pulled you back in for more but this time his hands strayed from your back. They traveled to your hips then under the hem of your shirt to feel your flesh warm against him. He had to feel you. To be inside of you. Deft fingers unbuttoned your jeans. Without breaking the kiss he stroked your clothed core working up a rhythm that flooded you with arousal.
“Touch me, Dean. Please” you cried. Pushing your panties aside his fingers explored your dripping pussy. His pace is maddening. Your hips snapped fucking back hard. “Fuck, Dean. So good. I need your cock. Want you to split ne open.”
“You’ve got a filthy mouth, Princess. Come for me and I’ll give you what you want.” And so you gushed around him moaning like a witch on fire. When your heart slowed to a normal rhythm you stripped naked. Before he could get undressed he took a moment to kiss and touch every inch of you. If this was only for tonight he wanted to savor you. “God you’re beautiful.”
“So are you.” You pulled him up and undressed him, never once breaking eye contact. His cock was red and weeping just aching to be touched.
On your knees in front of him you took the whole burning thing in your mouth. To Dean, you were the most stunning creature to exist. You swirled your tongue around the head while you hollowed your cheeks sucking him in deeper still.
“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. Fuck that feels good.” His hands grasped the back of your head keeping you steady while he fucked your face. It started feeling too good like he would blow his load in your mouth. He had to feel your sweet cunt. “Let me feel you, baby. Fuck I need you.” You pulled off with a pop and climed into his lap. Both of you whimpered when you sank onto his length. The stretch was exquisite. Your pussy held him so tight. You ground your clit over his pubic bone while he fucked into you with a brutal pace. “You feel so good. M’not gonna last. Come for me, baby. I need it.” Your twat fluttered around him, milking him for all he was worth. You kissed once more fighting to hang on to the last tendrils of tenderness and warmth that you could.
“Stay. Please. Just for tonight” you whispered.
He tightened his grip on you. “Of course, sweetheart. All night.”
He hated to leave you but the sun rose like a beacon calling him away. If he didn’t leave then, he wouldn’t have ever left. Last time he stuck around and fell in love, he had to learn the hard way that he could never have this. Maybe he would call you the next time he swung through town. Maybe you’d spit in his face for bailing. He brushed the hair off your forehead and kissed your temple. “Bye, sweetheart.”
You woke when you heard the Impala roaring to life in your driveway. He left a square of paper with a phone number scrawled in pencil “I’ll always answer. -DW” You put on your robe, went down to your cauldron and threw it in with a few bundles of sage and some witch hazel to sever any feelings. On the next full moon, you’d do a cord cutting to make sure it sticks.
“See you around, handsome.” In his eleven hour drive back to the bunker, any feelings that you have would slowly fade. The two of you would go back to being too afraid to feel and far too afraid to fall in love. Dean wouldn’t hear from you again. He wouldn’t really remember where you lived. But, every time he drove through Michigan, he’d feel a twinge in his chest. And, no matter how many rituals you did, you’d feel him too.
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crowfootwrites · 4 years ago
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Los Guardianes | Part II [Nestor Oceteva x Fem!Reader]
In which Nestor needs a bandaid and we learn more about you.
Also, my apologies for any mistakes/errors. I was trying to edit this while surrounded by other people, so...
Warnings: mentions of blood, violence, and injury; language; mentions of alcohol | Words: 1,600+
Taglist: @chibsytelford @megapeacelovemusic-blog @broiderie
Part I of Los Guardianes
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You had assumed, in your little flirtation with Nestor, that he was joking about coming around injured. So, when he showed up two days later, a little late for afternoon pickup, with a large piece of bloodstained gauze taped to one side of his face, you were shocked.
Your classroom was empty, and your aide had left for the day, leaving you to hang out with Cristóbal while you waited for Nestor to arrive. You were sitting at your desk with Cristóbal beside you, each of you scribbling away with crayons on coloring pages. Movement registered in the corner of your vision and you glanced up to see Nestor standing in the doorway, his face bandaged and the arm of his dress shirt covered in dried blood. His normally immaculate dress pants and shirt were covered in a layer of silt. You inhaled sharply as you rose from your seat, your feet carrying you quickly to stand in front of him. Cristóbal went to Nestor immediately, wrapping himself around Nestor’s leg in a fierce hug. Nestor sagged against the door frame with a grimace and your fingers reached for him instinctively, pausing when he met your gaze. But there was something encouraging in his glance, so you placed your cool hand softly against the feverish skin around the gauze. His eyes closed for just a moment, leaning into your touch, before you spoke.
“You know, I didn’t think you were actually going to take me up on my offer… I’m not sure I have any robot bandaids big enough for all this,” you teased quietly, tracing the bloodstained dressing. Nestor’s eyes opened and he smirked. You pulled your hand away, exceedingly aware of your rapidly increasing heart rate.
“Are you ok?”
His nod was slight, but it made you feel a little better. “I’m sorry I was late,” he mumbled, wincing as he took a breath. “I hate that you had to stay on my account.” He tapped Cristóbal and motioned for him to collect his backpack out of his cubby. Cristóbal did as he was asked, leaving you standing there alone with Nestor.
“Nestor, it’s really fine. Besides, if someone else had come to pick him up, I probably would have assumed you were dead, and that would have been worse.”
He studied you seriously for a few seconds, his expression giving nothing away. You tucked your arms behind your back nervously, rocking back onto your heels, but you managed to keep your eyes locked on his.
“Still,” he said finally. “I’d like to make it up to you. Can I take you out for a drink?” Cristóbal lumbered over, his backpack comically large on his small frame.
You smiled softly, trying not to appear as flustered as you felt on the inside. “Yeah. I’d like that.”
Nestor grinned, and underneath the blood and filth, his face lit up. “I’ll text you,” he said with a quick nod, his stare raking over your body briefly before turning and ushering Cristóbal to the car.
Nestor had texted you that same evening and asked you to grab a drink with him the next day, which was how you found yourself at a low-key, dimly lit bar on the outskirts of Santo Padre on a Friday night. Your inclination towards promptness meant you had arrived fifteen minutes early, so you headed inside and took a seat at the bar, ordering a gin and ginger.
You glanced around you, trying to hold back the nervousness fluttering in your belly. You fiddled with the hem of your black dress before laying it flat against your thigh. In your classroom, you rarely wore anything other than pants and leggings. Working with preschoolers meant that you were always prepared to be crouching, crawling on the ground, sitting on the floor, bending over, carrying kids on your hip, cleaning up various bodily fluids, getting things spilled on you. So, it was always a treat to get to dress up and you felt extra cute tonight.
Shortly after the bartender returned with your drink, you heard Nestor’s low, familiar voice near the shell of your ear.
“I was supposed to buy that for you,” he murmured, and you shivered just slightly at the fanning of his warm breath on your neck. His hand grazed your lower back as he passed you to take the stool next to yours.
You ducked your head to hide your grin. “You can buy the next one.”
Your smile faltered as he faced you completely and you got a clearer look at his injuries. He had forgone the gauze on his face, instead opting for a series of butterfly closures running down the jagged cut along his cheekbone. He was sporting a shiner on the eye on that side, but he seemed like he was in one piece otherwise.
“How’s the face?” you asked with a grimace.
“I’ve had worse,” he told you before ordering a beer from the bartender.
“I guess a life of crime would do that to you,” you said, and he glanced over at you with a raised eyebrow, perhaps trying to gauge how you meant it. You tossed him a wink and he smirked, shaking his head slightly.
“So,” you asked casually, “how did you end up being a security detail to the little man?”
“Big man’s mad at me.”
You laughed. “What?”
Nestor sighed, smoothing his facial hair with a hand punctuated by scabbed knuckles. “I, uh – fucked up, a while ago. Caused a lot of issues for Mikey. He put me on school duty as a punishment, I guess.” He paused, tossing back his beer. “But things are really tense right now, too, and I think it helps Mikey to have Cristóbal with someone he trusts. So, he kept me on it. And it’s fine, you know? They’re my family.”
He met your gaze meaningfully. “And it’s a nice way to start the morning,” he added.
“You’re really good with Cristóbal,” you commented warmly, heat rising on your cheeks. You hoped he couldn’t tell just how much you adored that about him.
Nestor’s lips curled into a small smile. “I’ve been around his whole life. Plus, he’s a pretty great kid.”
“Can confirm.” You paused around a sip of your cocktail. “So, I would imagine that you can’t share too much, but what does being the head of security for a cartel boss entail?”
Nestor’s eyes darkened broodingly, and you wondered if you’d overstepped, although you’d tried to acknowledge that you realized there were things you weren’t allowed to know. He leaned onto the top of the bar on his elbow, studying you again. “A lot of illegal shit. A lot of violence.” He paused thoughtfully. “But it’s also just a lot of… waiting. A lot of phone calls, researching, driving, babysitting – and not just babies.”
You chuckled at his sardonic choice of words. “I don’t know how you do it,” you joked. “I’m only okay with the babysitting involved in my job because they’re actual babies.”
“What made you decide to be a preschool teacher?” he asked, his shoulders relaxing a bit. You were distracted for a moment by the way his floral dress shirt pulled taut over his biceps and you swallowed hard.
“Uh – I got my degree in elementary education, and I started out as a kindergarten teacher. I was working in LA, but I had sort of a… rough patch, and needed to start over somewhere else. When the director, Maria, opened New River, she offered me a spot so I could come down to Santo Padre and get my shit back together.” You took a long pull on your drink, trying to swallow down your nerves.
Nestor’s head was tilted to the side curiously and you waited to see if he would inquire further. You let out the breath you didn’t realize you had been holding when he stuck to easy questions.
“How long have you been in Santo Padre?” he asked, tapping his fingers against his beer bottle.
“About two years. You?”
“Most of my adult life. I grew up with Mikey. And then I was in the Navy, moving around a lot. When I got out, Miguel offered me the job and I’ve been here ever since.” He shrugged slightly.
You studied him thoughtfully for a moment, the question you’d been wanting to ask him since you first met him resting on the tip of your tongue. He held your gaze steadily, so you went for it.
“Is it lonely?”
In the brief silence that followed, you wondered again if you had overstepped, if maybe it was too personal of a question. But you also felt strongly that the way Nestor answered would give you some indication as to his intentions with you.
His eyes narrowed on you, his head cocked to the side. “It can be.” He shifted on his barstool, his clothed knee knocking gently against yours, the touch sending electricity directly to your heart. Before you could respond to his statement, he asked, “Are you lonely?”
You were immediately annoyed at yourself for not anticipating that he would turn the question back on you; that was followed by the rush of embarrassment at your answer. Your mind reeled. Should you be honest with him? If you told him about your past, would he feel sorry for you? If you shared how and why you ended up in Santo Padre, would he pity you? You didn’t want that.
But.
You also desperately wanted to trust him. There was something about Nestor that made you feel safe, and while you supposed that was a side effect of his job, his interest in you represented a connection you hadn’t had with another person in years. And that alone pushed you towards the truth.
Your eyes found the bar top as you answered. “Yeah. I am.” You waited nervously for the follow-up questions, but they never came.
Instead, you felt Nestor’s knee knock softly against yours again and you looked up to meet his eyes. “Maybe you don’t have to be anymore,” he offered, leaning to bump his shoulder into yours, making you smile.
Part III of Los Guardianes
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nerdzzone · 3 years ago
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Only For A Moment: October + November [part one]
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Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.
Chris Evans x OFC
18+
Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series
Only For A Moment: September
Note: I was originally going to post this as one longer one shot, but I’ve split it into two. I haven’t finished writing the last part of the series yet and I’ve had a really bad and busy week so I haven’t had much time to work on it. It’s planned out, I just need to write it, but posting November as two parts gives me more time to finish it.
Thank you to everyone who has read and commented on this story. The support has been amazing!
-----
October 2020
"Hey," I greeted Chris as I poked my head around the door of his office. "Are you busy? Can I talk to you for a sec?"
He put down the script he was reading - something for a project he'd be starting as soon as the pandemic allowed - and nodded his head.
"Sure, what's up?"
I moved into the room, feeling strangely nervous about what I was about to ask.
"How would you feel," I started. "About me going to New York for a weekend for work?"
He raised his eyebrows, seemingly surprised by my inquiry and I rushed to assure him a bit more.
"They sent all the protocols that would be followed along with the job offer and it seems like it would be as safe as it possibly could be these days and I would drive up, not fly, so that would cut down on the chance of exposure a bit too," I assured him. "But I know that there's always a risk at the moment and it affects you and Gray too so I won't go if you're at all concerned."
Chris was smiling by the time I finished my long explanation and I felt a glimmer of hope that he wouldn't shoot down the idea immediately. I missed working and while Chris at least had 'A Starting Point' to focus on and various scripts to read through, I'd been completely out of work for months and I was ready to get back into it.
"Whitney, you don't need to convince me," he assured me. "I trust you. If you think it's safe and you want to do it then go for it."
"Okay, thank you," I let out a breath of relief. "I really do want to do it. I miss working."
"I know what you mean," he agreed. "What's the project?"
I couldn't hold back my grin as I answered that question.
"I get to go hang out with your friends," I informed him. "It's a promo shoot for Sebastian and Mackie's new show."
"Aw, man! That's great," Chris laughed. "Would you mind if I tagged along? I won't get in the way, I'll stay out of the photo shoot, but it would be nice to have a change of scenery."
"You wouldn't be allowed to come to the photo shoot at all," I warned him. "That was part of the protocol - no guests - and I don't know how many places are open there right now, there might not be much for you to do."
"I can keep myself entertained," he shrugged before flashing me a smirk. "We can leave Grayson with my mom, it'll be nice to have an adults only weekend."
"That would be nice," I agreed, matching his smirk as I followed his train of thought. We did fairly well making sure we got some quality time together, but we had to be quiet and quick and we always had the threat of Grayson interrupting in the back of our minds. "It's just a one day shoot so we'd have the Sunday together too."
"That's great," Chris grinned. "It'll be nice to get away."
"It will," I agreed, walking around his desk to lean down and capture his lips in a kiss. "Our first romantic getaway."
He slid his arm around my hips to keep me close as he smiled up at me.
"I can't wait."
-
November 2020
Leaving Grayson was harder than I anticipated. Considering I used to leave him with Chris every other week, I thought leaving him for a weekend would be easy, but I was a weepy mess. I held it together in front of Grayson so that he didn't get upset too - even though he was completely unbothered as he skipped off into Lisa's house - but once we got in the car, I let a few tears slip.
Of course, Chris teased me about it, but there was something in the way that he slipped his hand in mine and squeezed it reassuringly that told me he was feeling it too. We’d all adjusted to our new normal and Chris and I had really embraced having Gray by our side all the time so while two days was not a ridiculous amount of time to be apart, it felt like a momentous occasion. However, after giving ourselves a few minutes to wallow in the sadness, we agreed to do our best to push those feelings aside. We deserved a weekend away. No matter how much we loved him, parenting twenty-four/seven for almost ten months was hard work especially while trying to build our new relationship.
By the time we arrived in Manhattan in the early evening, our melancholy mood had shifted. The drive, spent playing silly little car games like ‘I Spy’ and singing cheesy duets, had put us in a wonderful mood and kicked off our weekend nicely. It was a fairly long drive though so I let Chris check in while I scampered off to use the restroom in the lobby. He had the keys by the time I found him again and when we got up the room, I was shocked. It was a fancy hotel - Marvel did tend to be quite generous when it came to accommodations - but it wasn't until we walked into the room that I realized we had the penthouse suite.
"Holy shit," I gasped, looking around at the luxurious space and amazing view out over Central Park. "This has to be a mistake, there's no way Marvel would pay for this!"
"No, they wouldn't," Chris smirked as he dropped our bags and moved over to the bottle of champagne that was already chilling in an ice bucket. "But I would."
"What?" I giggled. "What are you talking about? We already had a reservation booked in my name."
"Yeah, and I upgraded it," he grinned. "I just paid the difference between the room Marvel booked and this one."
He popped the champagne and poured it for us before coming to join me at the window and handing me a glass.
"You didn't have to do that, Chris. This is a pretty nice hotel, I'm sure whatever room they booked would have been fine."
"Oh yeah, it would have been fine," he shrugged. "But fine isn't what I'm aiming for this weekend and since we can't do much outside of this hotel anyway, the least I can do is make sure we have a good room."
I was looking forward to getting back to work, but suddenly I wished that I didn't have to as the idea of a romantic weekend hidden away in our gorgeous suite seemed like the best thing in the world. But, I knew we wouldn't have come without an excuse, so I tried to focus on being grateful for the time that we did have together.
Slipping my arm around his waist and stretching up on my toes, I pulled him in for a kiss, trying to convey my gratitude and excitement for the weekend.
"Well, I can think of several things we can do in this room that will keep us very busy," I teased once our lips parted again. "We better get started now or we might run out of time..."
Chris chuckled as he took a sip of his champagne, but shook his head.
"Not yet, Winnie," he denied me, despite his raspy voice. "Why don't you take that champagne and run yourself a nice bath while I order us some room service?"
I felt a frown slide onto my face and I would have been embarrassed at my childish pout had I not been so confused about him turning me down.
"Why?" I asked. "I would have thought you'd be raring to go now that we can finally enjoy ourselves with no interruptions..."
"I am but I want to enjoy it,” Chris informed me, leaning down to nip at my neck before letting his lips hover next to my ear. "I want you relaxed and well-fed so I can take my time while I make you scream my name over and over and over."
His low voice sent shivers down my spine as his plan for the night sent a wave of arousal through me. My mouth suddenly felt dry and my brain forgot how to make words as I choked out an 'okay' and took myself off to the bathroom to do as he'd instructed.
-
When I wandered out into the living room area of our suite almost forty-five minutes later, I was thoroughly relaxed. Wrapped in a very fluffy white bathrobe that was at least two sizes too big for me, I announced my entrance with a contented sigh. Chris looked up at the sound and let out a laugh.
"What?" I giggled, striking a pose as I had a good idea what he found amusing. "They only had one size."
"You look adorable," he grinned at me. "C'mere, let me top up your drink."
I did as he asked, walking over to where he was sitting and noticed the cart full of food that was next to him. He'd ordered my favourite - mac 'n' cheese - and I felt a rush of love for him when I saw it. A lot of people had teased me over the years, insisting that it was more of a child's dish - something not refined enough for an adult’s palate - but it had always been one of my top choices and I was touched that he'd remembered.
He'd ordered a steak for himself and we both eagerly tucked into our meals, eating until we were almost painfully full and just barely saving enough room for the peanut butter cheesecake that he'd ordered for dessert. That was another favourite of mine and I got a stern warning from Chris - as I moaned through every mouthful - that I needed to control myself until we'd had a chance to digest our large meal. I bit back a smirk, almost tempted to continue my noises of pleasure just to antagonize him, but I reluctantly decided to behave.
After we ate, we curled up on the couch with something meaningless on the TV as we recovered from the large meal. We were half-watching it, half just basking in the contentment of our full stomachs until Chris eventually decided that we'd waited long enough.
My feet were draped over his lap as we lounged and I felt his hands slowly move from lazy stroking the tops of my feet to higher up my ankle. At first, I didn't pay much attention as I mindlessly scrolled through my phone, but as his hand trailed higher up my leg, his intentions became more clear. I fought to keep a straight face as I continued to ignore him even as his hand slid up to my knee. He kept it there for a few moments, rubbing his thumb against my skin, but he quickly lost his patience as I continued playing it cool. Letting out a soft growl, he returned his hands to my feet and with a swift tug, he moved me down the couch.
"Chris!" I giggled as my head slipped from the arm of the couch onto the cushion where my bum had been moments before. "What are you doing?"
"You were ignoring me," he smirked. "So, I took matters into my own hands."
"Maybe I was reading something important," I teased. "You're so rude."
He pulled again, moving my hips up onto his lap.
"I'm rude? We're on a romantic getaway and you're starin’ at your phone."
"Well, maybe you weren't being very interesting."
He chuckled at that, but shook his head.
"You're such a brat," he scolded. "Maybe I should just flip you over and teach you a lesson."
He moved a hand down and pinched my bum to emphasize his point and I gasped as a wave of intrigue flooded through me. Using the back of the couch for leverage, I pulled myself up until I was sitting on his lap, but the positioning was a bit awkward so I shifted and straddled him instead.
"I'm not sure if a spanking from you would be much of a punishment..."
My words made his eyes darken as his hands rubbed up and down my thighs.
"Oh, really?" He questioned and I nodded with a smile. "Well, that is very interesting information to have."
"I'm surprised you haven't brought it up before," I teased. "Since you're such an ass man."
"Shut up," Chris chuckled before forcing me to do so by pressing my lips against his.
It started off as a sweet, playful kiss, but the mood of anticipation between us quickly transitioned it into something more.
His hands moved from my thighs up to my hips as I let mine slide behind him - one rubbing the soft hairs on his neck as the other held the back of his head, keeping it firmly against my own. Our lips parted, letting our tongues bump and glide against each other and I felt a fire started to burn inside of me already.
Our position and the fact that I was wearing nothing, but a bathrobe meant that there was nothing between us other than Chris' jeans. I was pressed bare against him which became apparent when he used his firm grip to pull me even closer towards him. A gasp fell from my lips at the friction the denim caused and Chris pulled back to grin at me.
"Does that feel good?" He pressed my hips forward again as he asked the question and my eyes fluttered shut as I nodded. "Then keep going."
He titled his chin to capture my lips in another kiss as he loosened his grip on me, but his instructions had been clear. Taking matters into my own hands, I started rocking my hips slowly against his enjoying the sparks I felt every time I rubbed against him. I could feel him harden, the bulge underneath me growing bigger with every pass of my hips, and the feeling had me moaning into his mouth. I almost stood up - I almost pulled myself off of his lap and dragged him to the bedroom as my body craved him and wanted him inside me - but I remembered what he'd said. He wanted to wait, to take it slow and savour the experience so, with a smirk to myself, I continued my actions with the knowledge of his growing arousal only adding to my pleasure.
As if Chris could read my mind or feel my misguided sense of control, he tightened his grip again and pressed me even harder against him. I moaned at the sensation, pulling my mouth from his as my head fell backwards. I tried to find something to focus on, something to help me regain a morsel of self-control, but nothing in the room could distract from the pressure that was building quickly as the rough material dragged against my clit. A part of me was embarrassed to be rubbing myself against him like this, but with each thrust of my hips, a much bigger part of me grew too desperate to care.
Taking advantage of my exposed neck, Chris latched his lips onto the skin, nipping and sucking gently before tracing kisses up until his mouth was beside my ear.
"You're almost there, aren't you?" His voice was low and the way my fingers dug into the back of his neck was all the answer I could muster as his hands forced my body to keep up the steady rhythm. "I bet you're almost soakin’ right through my pants. You're so needy. Go on, Winnie, take what you want."
A whimper fell from my lips as his words sent shivers down my spine. My movements, supported by his hands, became even more frantic as I felt my release building to a peak and after a few more shifts against him, I let out a strangled moan as I crashed over the edge.
Chris continued his mumbled words of encouragement as his hands continued to force me to move until I melted against him and let my head flop onto his shoulder. My breath against his neck drew goosebumps up on his skin and I placed a soft kiss on them as I fought to control my breathing.
"How're you feeling?"
I sighed softly in response to Chris' question, fighting to make my brain function enough to form words.
"Wonderful," I purred into his ear after taking a moment to compose myself. "But I'm really dying to have you inside me..."
Without another word, Chris used his grip on my hips to lift me off his lap and onto my feet. My legs felt shaky from the strength of my recent orgasm, but they held me up as I stared down at Chris, a bit stunned by the fast movement. He looked up at me for a brief moment before raising an eyebrow and nodding his head towards our bedroom.
"Do you need me to carry you?" He questioned, his tone laced with sarcasm as he clearly noticed the quiver in my legs. "Or can you walk?"
I giggled and playfully rolled my eyes, but turned towards the bedroom. Trying to regain some semblance of power in the situation, I undid the robe that was still tied around my waist and let it fall to the floor. The action left me completely naked as I walked away and I heard a growl of approval from Chris followed by the sound of him jumping to his feet behind me. I scampered off with him hot on my heels, but he caught me in his grasp when I was a few feet past our bedroom door.
He easily lifted me off the ground and I let out a squeal as he tossed me onto the bed.
"Wow," I giggled as I flopped onto my back, leaning up on my elbows to look at him. "That was a graceful landing, real sexy."
Chris smirked as he pulled his shirt over his head.
"You're always sexy," he insisted, moving to the bed and crawling over me. "I can't get enough of you."
Before I could respond, his mouth was back on mine. I smiled against his lips and took a moment to run my hands over his toned muscles, but quickly moved them down to the belt on his jeans as I was eager to get things moving. Almost immediately, he pulled away with that damn smirk still on his face.
"Not so fast," he warned. "I said we were going to take our time."
"We already did," I whined. "Please, Chris, I want you so bad."
He dipped his head and kissed along my jaw until his lips hovered by my ear.
"And you'll have me," he assured me. "Eventually."
I let out a groan of frustration, but as he trailed his kisses lower until they reached my chest, the groan became one of pleasure. A hand slid up my side until it was level with his head and while his mouth captured one nipple, his fingers pinched the other. I gasped and arched my back up towards him, desperate to be as close to him as possible.
His actions started off soft. His fingers and lips worked in a gentle, almost teasing way that had me almost ready to whine for more, but just when I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, he increased the pressure. His fingers pinched and tweaked one as he nipped the other and the sensation had my hips pressing up against him almost of their own volition. He chuckled as I lifted a leg to hook it over his hip, pulling him down in an attempt to find any friction as he moved to rest his chin between my breasts.
"You're so impatient," he teased. "I'm not gonna fuck you yet."
His voice was thick and rough from his own aroused state and it only made me more desperate.
"Please, Chris..." I whined. "Why not?"
Chris let his teeth graze against my skin briefly before moving further down my body, my question apparently going unanswered. He kissed his way over my stomach, an affectionate smile appearing on his face as he watched the muscles under his mouth quiver and twitch from his actions. It appeared he was intent on taking his sweet time and I really was about to start begging again when he finally settled between my thighs, pulling my legs to rest over his shoulders.
A snarky comment about him taking so long was on the tip of my tongue, but any attitude I was feeling disappeared as he pressed his tongue against me, licking upwards until he settled against my clit. I couldn't hold back the moans and gasps that poured from my lips from the sensation and for a moment, I worried I was being too loud. However, from the way Chris' fingers dug into my ass to lift me higher against his mouth, he seemed to find it encouraging.
He was focused and determined, his lazy mood from moments earlier seemingly gone and I wasn't complaining as I was already practically dripping on to the bed with need. He knew my body almost better than I did and the way his lips were locked on just the right spot, sucking with just the right pressure was driving me wild.
In a few mere minutes, I was already teetering on the edge, but when I gasped out a warning to Chris, he instantly pulled away.
I lifted my head as I let out a growl and scowled down at him - the cocky smirk on his face only adding to my annoyance.
"What the hell, Chris," I huffed. "Keep going!"
He kissed my thigh as I felt an almost painful ache between my legs.
"Patience, Winnie," he warned me. "You need a lesson in patience."
The overwhelming feeling I felt in response to that comment was frustration, but there was a hint of intrigue as well. I was at his mercy, being teased and toyed with until he decided otherwise and I'd be lying if that knowledge didn't turn me on even more.
"Do you-" I gasped as he blew against the wet place his mouth had been moments before. "Do you want me to beg?"
"It wouldn't hurt," he grinned. "But there is something appealing about the thought of seeing how long I can keep you like this..."
That idea filled me with dread. As enticing as my helplessness in this scenario was, the thought of it lasting more than a few minutes seemed painfully cruel.
"No, please don't," I pleaded. "Please touch me, Chris. Please, please. I need it so bad."
He groaned, letting his forehead rest against my thigh for a moment before looking up to meet my eyes.
"The way you say my name when you're like this drives me crazy."
He moved his hand to flick his thumb over my clit and his name fell from my lips again as a desperate whimper. That seemed to be all he needed to hear as he quickly attached his mouth back to that sweet spot.
Instantly, my hands shot to grip his head as mine fell back against the pillows. He held down my hips that were pushing up towards him, desperate to increase the friction, but it didn't matter. I was so close already, so worked up from his previous actions, that it took no time at all for the pressure he'd built up inside me to boil over as I finally found my release.
As always, he coaxed me through it, only moving back when he was sure my orgasm had faded. By the time it was done, my chest was heaving and Chris dragged himself off the bed, giving me a moment to catch my breath as he rid himself of his jeans and boxers. I smiled at the sight, but I was in a daze. My whole body felt like jelly from the two amazing orgasms I'd just received, but that didn't stop me from the moment of clarity that hit just as he was climbing back over me.
"Wait! Condom."
Chris cursed under his breath before hopping off the bed and quickly rifling through his bag. He found one - which I knew he would as I'd reminded him several times to pack them so we wouldn’t be caught without them in a moment like this - and returned to the bed.
"Hurry," I panted. "I need you."
A quiet growl rumbled from Chris' chest as he quickly tore open the condom wrapper and put it on. I was still sensitive from our previous activities, but as soon as he was on top of me again, I was pressing up towards him. He filled me with an almost insatiable need and it seemed his patience was also thin after being so hard for so long as he slid inside me with impressive speed.
I groaned from the sensation of him filling me so quickly, but any discomfort quickly shifted into pleasure as he rocked his hips against mine. My fingers dug into his shoulders as my legs wrapped around his waist pulling him closer as he quickly established a steady rhythm. As much as he wanted to take his time, his restraint was clearly waning as he kept up a vigorous pace. My over sensitive state and his purposefully angled thrusts, hitting all the right nerves with just the right pressure, had me writing beneath him as I basked in the sensation.
Chris was always rather vocal, but as his moans, grunts and whispers of filthy commentary grew louder and more unrestrained it became clear that he was also edging closer and closer to his peak. His hips snapped with more ferocity and all I could do was hold onto him tightly, giving him all the control and riding the waves of pleasure he was causing.
“I’m close,” he groaned, his voice strained as his breath hit my neck.
Unable to form words, I made a noise that I hoped would convey my agreement and his movements seemed to become even more pointed and more deliberate. With every thrust, he made sure to rub against every sensitive spot inside me and moments later, I felt my release hit me. It felt like every muscle in my body tensed as I quivered and clenched around him, a sound leaving my mouth that was so lustful and unrestrained that I could hardly believe it was coming from me. He gasped out a moan of his own from the sensation of me coming around him and quickened his pace through my orgasm until eventually he stilled, the sound of his pleasure echoing through my ears.
Once we had both recovered, Chris rolled off of me, pulling the condom off and disposing of it in the garbage can next to the bed before he settled on his back, chest heaving from exertion.
I let out a happy sigh as I curled into his side and his arm wrapped around me, pulling me close.
"That was amazing," I smiled, placing a kiss against his chest.
He chuckled, squeezing me even tighter as he answered.
"See? Patience. It makes everything better."
I nipped at the skin underneath my mouth.
"Shut up."
He leaned down to place a kiss on the top of my head and I smiled.
"I love you," he practically whispered in the darkness. "I'm so glad we get this weekend together."
"Me too," I agreed. "I love you too."
He squeezed me closer again as we laid there curled up in each other, basking in our post-orgasmic glow.
No one had ever made me feel the way that Chris did. I’d never felt as safe with anyone, I’d never felt so able to let my guard down, and the physical aspect of our relationship clearly benefited greatly from the closeness that we shared. It was an amazing feeling to know that we were so in tune with each other and that there was so much room to explore the things that made us feel good and, despite being fully satisfied for the time being, I couldn't help but let my mind wander to other things I would be interested in delving into as I drifted off to sleep.
-
November [part two]
Tags:  @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99 @mjey12
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hanoella · 3 years ago
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Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 4)
Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader
Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.
Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence
Part 4 Word Count: 2.9k
A/N: Thanks again for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful
Taglist!: @vicmc624
Read Part 1; Masterlist
The icon that marked where you were currently typing in your text blinked as you bit your lip. Looking back from where you were sitting at the kitchen table, you took stock of the open pantry once again. You were low on just about everything. With physical therapy exhausting your shoulder, it was hard to find the energy to lift any heavy bags. You had texted Sam for help, but unfortunately he was out of state.
“Bucky’s home, just ask him to go with you. He won’t mind” He had texted back.
You slouched back into the chair and groaned. You had only seen him in passing since he had helped you with the furniture. What was he, your live-in-caretaker? Was he just there to help you up and down the stairs and help you across the street? Sliding onto the floor, you made a small grunt as you felt your back straighten out and adjust to the floor. Resting a moment, you held your phone up and stared at the blinking bar. You hadn’t texted him before. Should you just call him? Or knock on his door? Ugh, why was this so hard. Whatever.
“Hey Bucky, I’m having trouble carrying stuff right now. Would you mind helping me out with grocery shopping sometime today or tomorrow? If not, no worries.”
Without a second thought, you sent it and set your phone down next to you. It was around 1PM, the only thing you having done up until then was getting dressed while sipping on coffee. Opting for a lazy look, you had worn soft leggings with an oversized sweater and fuzzy socks. Two simple braids and a headband kept your hair out of the way for when you eventually practiced. Only a few more weeks until you practiced with the actual orchestra. You should probably figure out something to wear besides lounge clothes.
The buzz on the floor caught your attention and you took a peak at your home screen
1 New Message:
Bucky Barnes: Sure, is now good?
Shoot. You quickly got up and walked to the bathroom. Your hair wasn’t too messy. Why do you look so tired? Opting for some mascara, you texted Bucky back before digging around in your makeup bag.
Yeah, meet at my car in a minute?
---
Bucky pocketed his phone and took a quick look in the mirror. Should he shave? Scratching his beard, he made a face before deciding against. It would take him more than a minute. Why didn’t he just say thirty minutes from now? Running a hand through his hair, he grabbed a jacket and walked out of the apartment.
As he walked over the freshly fallen leaves in the driveway, he opted for leaning against your car. He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned his head to look out over the water. It had been quiet lately, just chilly enough to silence the summer chorus of buzzing and croaks. Now all that was left was the occasional honking of geese flying overhead.
He had only been there for a couple of minutes when you came out onto the porch. You had hastily thrown on some brown leather boots, the left one still untied. The little bit of mascara and lip gloss you put on made you feel better about not looking like death. It was nice to do a little something, even if it was just the grocery store.
“Hey!” you said, slightly breathless as you bounded down the stairs, keys jingling in your hand.
Bucky echoed your greeting back to you with a small smile and wave.
“Sorry to keep you waiting.” You said, clicking the key fob to unlock the car.
“Oh it’s no problem. I didn’t really have much to do anyway.” He said, ducking his head to sit in the passenger side seat. He noticed how as soon as you closed the door, you clicked the locks shut. Then you brought your left heel up on the edge of the seat so that you could tie your shoe.
“Thanks so much. I really appreciate it. Usually, I don’t need too much help, but I need cases of waters and stuff like that. I was gonna get someone to help me at the grocery store but I realized I’d still be left in a lurch once I got home. I figured if you needed, we could just get groceries together this time,” you explained while double knotting the laces.
Starting the car and putting on your seatbelt, you looked behind you out of habit to make sure you weren’t going to hit anything as you backed out of the driveway.
“Huh. It looks like it’s going to rain.” You said, observing the darker clouds and the wind picking up. Putting the car in drive, you started down the driveway.
“Music?” You offered, gesturing towards the radio.
“I don’t really know what’s been playing these days… or for the last sixty years if I’m being honest.” At least it’s nice not to have to lie about it, Bucky thought.
“Well, we have a lot to catch you up on then.” You said, stopping at the end of the driveway and grabbing your phone. Scrolling through your music, you hit the bluetooth button on the console.
“This playlist has all my favorite classics on it. Feel free to skip anything you don’t like.” You said, handing him the phone and turning onto the road. The music started, prompting Bucky looked down at the phone. September- Earth, Wind & Fire.
---
Four songs later you were at the supermarket, grabbing a cart and discussing favorites.
“That last one was good too. Which one was that?” Bucky asked.
“That’s Stolen Away on 55th & 3rd. Dave Matthews Band. Now mind you, some of those are way older than others. The only thing they all have in common is that they’re all at least ten years old.”
“Huh.” He’s really missed out on a lot.
The two of you continued chatting as you went through the various sections. A couple cases of water. A bag of salad. Deli meats and cheeses. Bread. Ground beef. Pasta and pasta sauce. The topic turned to older music from Bucky’s time.
“I’m surprised you have heard of her.” He said, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
“Well, I’m going to be honest, the only reason I have any knowledge of it at all is because I had to take a lot of Music History classes in college. For whatever reason, they thought that to play music, you needed to know every which way that it’s evolved throughout the years. Though, I have to say,” you paused, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Now, I’m kind of glad I did.” You looked up at him slightly, face just a tad warm as he met your eyes. You both looked away and he coughed awkwardly. Feeling embarrassed, you scan the shelves of snacks before hearing him quietly say behind you-
“… I’m glad you did too. It’s different. And kind of nice to talk to someone about it. Who actually knows what I’m talking about.”
Trying to keep your smile small, you continued to look at the array of cookies on the shelf. A hand passed over your shoulder to take a pack of shortbread cookies.
“Hmm. Shortbreads.” You say, holding your arms behind your back. “Verrry interesting.”
“What?” He replied defensively.
“You can tell a lottttt about a man by his snack preferences.”
“Well, what do shortbreads say?” Bucky asked, leaning his forearms on the handle of the cart so that he was now eye level with you. It was too late this time to hide your smile. You turned back around to grab a pack of oatmeal chocolate chip cookies.
“If I tell you what they mean, you’ll just pick the kind that you think has the best traits. You’re not fooling me anytime soon.” You said with a laugh before you whisked yourself around the corner.
“Hey, that’s not fair, come back!” He pushed the cart around the corner where he ran into you hugging Sarah. The boys were with her and they went absolutely ballistic.
“Uncle Buck! Uncle Buck!” They shouted as they bombarded him.
“AJ! Cass! Stop acting crazy in the grocery store!” Sarah said, reprimanding them. You chuckled at the sight of Bucky being slowly overwhelmed by the two boys. He pried them off his legs and crouched so that he was eye level with them.
“Hey, I missed you guys. I haven’t seen you guys since the last time Uncle Sam and I came back-”
“-from fighting bad guys, right!” AJ said, getting a little too excited and causing Sarah to give him the look. Bucky tried not to laugh and held a finger up to his mouth to signal that they needed to be quiet.
“Yes, from fighting bad guys.”
You turned towards Sarah with a grin and put your hand on her arm.
“We’ll have to have all of you over, come see the new house. Will you text me a day next week when you, Sam, and the kids are free?”
“That sounds great. I’m so glad you got to move down here. I’ll let you know about next week!” Sarah said. She also walked around the cart and gave Bucky a hug. He returned it but glanced towards you nervously; You were already looking away. When they pulled away from each other, Sarah glanced in your direction and then at Bucky, a knowing smile on her face and eyebrows wiggling. Bucky made a face with wide eyes, letting her know to cut it out. Sarah laughed slightly while saying goodbye:
“It was good to see you, Buck.” Sarah said, laughing as she rolled the cart away, AJ and Cass in tow, who were both shouting goodbyes at Uncle Buck.
“Good to see you too…” He trailed off in her direction.
“Man, those boys really love Uncle Buck.” You said teasingly, making him jump slightly and turn around. You laughed and walked towards the next aisle, leaving Bucky red in the ears.
---
It was just starting to rain when you parked the car in the driveway. You grabbed some of the lighter bags and ran up the steps, hurrying to unlock the door. Bucky was piling on the grocery bags as the rain got heavier. He hauled everything inside as you held the door open for him. He lifted the groceries up onto the kitchen counter and made his way down the stairs again.
“Still have to get the cases of water.” He explained in response to your confused face. The rain was still getting heavier. Hauling the two jumbo cases onto his shoulder and carrying the last one by the plastic in his hand, he made his way up the porch, slower this time. You held the door open, looking incredulously again at how easy it was for him as he passed.
By the time he had set the waters down, you had grabbed a towel for him, extending it to him while looking away at from his drenched shirt.
“Thanks,” he said, toeing off his shoes and drying his hair with the towel before draping it over his shoulders.
“Please, let me make you some tea. You must be freezing.” You said, already digging through the pantry for some.
“Well, if you’re offering, I won’t say no.” He said, taking a seat at the kitchen island.
“Yeah, hold on, it’s kind of dark. Let me turn on the lights…” You trailed off as the light switch did nothing. Flicking it a few times back and forth, you sighed.
“I’m so sorry, the real estate agent told me it’s pretty easy to lose power in this area since there’s so many trees. They usually have it back on pretty quick though I’m told.” You said, now digging through another cabinet.
“It’s completely fine, you can’t control that. I’ll just take a raincheck-”
“Found it!” You said, cutting him off and proudly presenting the gas-powered single burner. You set it down in front of Bucky who watched as you also grabbed a tea light and a lighter from in the drawer.
“Would you like to stay for dinner?” You asked while lighting it.
---
Three more tea lights and a kettle of hot water later, Bucky was sitting with the towel draped over his shoulders, sipping on the warm cup of green tea. The flames created flickering shadows as you added the pasta to the pot of boiling water.
“I knew this was going to come in handy. I’m glad I saved it.” You said, setting a timer on your phone as you leaned on the counter across from Bucky.
“Why do you have it in the first place?” He asked curiously.
“I kind of had to hop around for a little bit before I got down here. I would stay in hotels but I didn’t want to eat out every night so this came in handy. Ole reliable.” You said, looking down at one of the tea lights.
There was a moment of silence before you pursed your lips.
“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked, setting the cup down.
“Has Sam told you… how I ended up here?” You asked, now looking straight at him. The look on his face told you the answer before he could respond.
“I see…”
“Hey, I’m sorry, I-”
You held up a hand to cut him off, soft smile on your face.
“No, it’s okay. I told him that if it ever came up, he could talk about it. I’m pretty open about it. How much did he tell you?” you asked, wrapping your hands around the cup to absorb some of the warmth.
“Just the basics. You two were together, then he got… violent. And you trying to leave.” He said, looking down into his cup.
“Yeah, that just about covers it… He kept following me after I got out of the hospital so I had to get a rental car and hotel hop for a while… When I got the house down here, I finally got my actual car and just booked it here. He’s never been to Louisiana before and he doesn’t know that Sam lives here now, instead of DC. I’m hoping he’s frolicking in city traffic, getting run over as he looks for me. Bucky snorted and tried not to laugh, which made you laugh.
“Sorry, it’s not funny.” He said, covering his mouth.
“Oh, it totally is.” You said, talking in a way where he could tell that you were smiling.
You both laughed as you grabbed a strainer out of the pantry. Draining the pasta, you both settled into a comfortable silence.
“Well, I’m glad you can joke about it.” Bucky said, watching as you poured pasta sauce into the pot to warm it up before chucking the rest of the pasta in.
“Some days are better than others. I’m just happy that I can stop running. Still, I do get a bit paranoid sometimes. I feel like I’m going to turn a corner and he’ll be right there.” You said, rubbing your arms as if you were comforting yourself. At that moment, Bucky looked at you and noticed for the first time how truly tired you looked. Dark circles underneath a sleep deprived gaze. Eyes clouded by worry and paranoia. Bucky’s seen that look on himself before. Before Steve found him in Bucharest, before he could trust his own mind. When he had to avoid being recognized, avoid being found, avoid falling back into Hydra’s grasp.
You exhaled as you uncrossed your arms, mixing the pot before sprinkling cheese on top. “Dinner’s all done.” Bucky sat peacefully, enjoying the aroma of the tomato and basil. Taking a deep breath, he slowly exhaled before speaking up again.
“Well. I’m here now.”
“Hmm?” You called back, not quite hearing him over the clanking of the bowls you took out.
“I’m here now,” he repeated, this time with more confidence. “So… you don’t have to worry about it. If you ever get worried about it, just call me. Or text me… Or knock on the door… and I’ll talk to you or I’ll check it out, keep an eye on the house from the apartment, or just be in the house with you. It’s not a bother, if it’ll give you peace of mind. I’ve been through something… similar. With, uh, the whole Hydra… thing…” Bucky trailed off as you stared at him with a neutral face. He was getting ready to backpedal, hand reaching for the back of his neck out of nervous habit, until you spoke.
“You’d do that?” You said, face unchanged, eyes searching his.
“Yeah… Yeah, I would.”
You blinked a few times before looking aside and trying to clear the frog from your throat.
“I don’t even know what to say but thank you. That is such a big relief.” You said, voice wavering slightly, one hand coming up to touch your forehead out of relief. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Nobody should have to go through that alone.” Bucky said softly.
You touched his hand softly, giving it a gentle squeeze before stealing your own back. You turned around to grab a drink when you paused, looking out the window.
“It stopped raining.” You stated, watching as the little bit of sunlight brightened the colors of the changing leaves. Bucky, on the other hand, was watching how the little bit of sunlight brightened you. He rubbed his thumb against where your hand had just been, trying to recreate the feeling of your hand on his.
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lofitowns · 4 years ago
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six facts
“ TWO THINGS I’LL FOREVER BE SURE OF, THE SUN WILL ALWAYS FALL FOR THE MOON AND I WILL ALWAYS FALL FOR YOU “
pairing. simeon x gn!reader
wc. 2.3k
summary. in which every time you see him, he overwhelms your senses (fluffvember 1/15)
an. i’m low key unprepared for this month,, BUT i’m really excited + taglist is in the comments. if you want to be on it, just message me :)
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five things you know and the one thing you don’t
first; he touches you and you light on fire. your wrist blazes where his fingers feel your skin. the burn doesn’t show, but it’s hard to breathe with ash in your lungs. it’s so hard to breathe. you’re suffocating daily.
    The sound of your feet hitting the stone floor was the only thing echoing through the halls of RAD. You were currently struggling to stuff your books in your bag and run at the same time. You were late, very late. You should have been back at the House of Lamentations hours ago, but your review with your teacher had run late.
    You had a very important test coming up, and even with the curve they gave exchange students, you were struggling. Devildom history was not one of your strong suits.
    It finally dawned on you that there was no one to walk you home. Lucifer had insisted someone always be with you at night. Sometimes it seemed annoying, but walking home alone in the dark didn’t sound too fun.
    You pulled your DDD out as you rounded the corner, only to be met with a warm chest. You flew back, landing hard on the group with a pained groan. You heard a small chuckle above you, causing your gaze to snap up. Simeon. A sheepish smile tugged at your lips.
    “Oh... Hey, Simeon,” You greeted, your cheeks warm with embarrassment. Of course, you had to run into him.
    He laughed at you again, reaching his hand out to help you stand, “What are you still doing here?”
    “I stayed to get some extra help. I didn’t realize how late it’d gotten. I was about to call one of the brothers to pick me up,” You explained as he grasped your extended hand. Electric shocks flowed through your body, making you tingle from head to toe. Your eyes were blown wide, almost unable to make your legs move. Your breath caught in your throat, the feeling of your chest squeezing becoming more and more prominent when he didn’t let you go.
    As he looked at you, you tried to focus on breathing. The sparks set off like fireworks in the pit of your stomach when he finally let your hand fall from his. The skin of your palm was on fire; you had to look down at it to make sure there wasn’t a burn.
    “Why don’t I just walk you?” He offered, to which you nodded, not trusting your voice. He turned around, and the two of you walked in step with each other. You were still trying to regulate your breathing when a realization hit you.
    “Wait, why are you still here?”
    “I had to come back. I forgot my homework in the classroom,” He admitted. The smile he sent you was breathtakingly beautiful. You let out a shallow laugh while your throat tightened.
    The heat of your hand was starting to die down as you walked, but then his fingers brushed against yours again. It was a pleasant warmth this time, something you didn’t mind feeling.
    The night was cool and calm; walking with him was something you could get used to. The house came into view all too quickly, and you nearly scoffed in disappointment. Halting next to the gate, Simeon swiveled to look at you. “Well, here we are! I hope you have a wonderful evening (y/n).”
    The heat of your cheeks spread to the tips of your ears. “You too, Simeon.” With that, he was off the way you came, and you were walking up the stone steps.
    The scolding later was worth being late.
second; it hurts to watch him. he shines. he’s brighter than the sun, he’s too beautiful for your eyes. it’s hard to look at him. it’s even harder to look away from him. you’re going blind.
    How can someone look so radiant doing homework? You didn’t think someone could be more breathtaking. His tanned skin had a soft glow from the dim lamplight, and it made your breath hitch.
    It hurt. Looking at him hurt. But your eyes were trained on him, and you couldn’t look away. It was like a drug. His presence made your heart palpitate and your palms sweat. His eyes flicked up, catching you in your daze. His smile was wide, teeth pearly white.
    “Have you finished the worksheet yet, (y/n)?” He questioned, quirking a brow. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You cleared your throat and shook your head. If you were honest, you hadn’t done much of the worksheet at this point. Since the moment you had stepped into his room, it was like you couldn’t avert your eyes.
    “Oh, no. I... I needed help on number 11,” You finally voiced, scooting the paper across the table to him. His eyes began scanning it, taking his bottom lip between his teeth as he concentrated. A shallow sigh fell from your lips as you watched him.
    You tried to stay focused, you really did. He just made it incredibly difficult.
    “You were doing it right. You needed to add five instead of four,” He explained, pointing to the spot you messed up. Even his hands looked good. You never even paid attention to anyone’s hands. How could one person so striking be real?
    You nodded, taking your worksheet back, “Thank you.” His fingers brushed yours, and like the last time, you could feel the searing heat of his touch.
    His smile was dazzling. You could compare it to the sun; it made your skin warm and your eyes water. He deserved his own place in the sky where everyone could see him. He deserved to be worshiped. But you also wanted him to yourself. You wished the smile he gave you was made for only you.
    “Do I have something on my face?” He asked after holding your gaze, reaching a hand up to brush his cheek. You shook your head, dismissing his thought. “No, it’s... It’s nothing.”
third; your ears are tuned to his voice. you could pick him out of a sea of thousands. his voice makes pretty singers who sing pretty songs sound dull. his voice makes everything else ugly.
    Hanging out with Mammon was always eventful. He always seemed to be getting himself into trouble, no matter what he does. He begged you for days to go shopping with him. You repeatedly declined, knowing he had no money, and he would make you pay. But when he gave you those puppy dog eyes, you couldn’t say no.
    That was how you ended up walking down the dimly lit streets of the Devildom.
    You were struggling to keep up with the rambunctious demon as he kept running ahead to look at different storefronts. It didn’t take long to lose him in the crowd, but you figured he’d come and look for you eventually.
    Strolling by yourself wasn’t bad, but you always liked to have company. And you felt a little safer with at least one other person around. Since you arrived, there had seemingly always been a demon by your side. Your eyes were drawn to a particularly bright colored window. The inside showed beautiful necklaces and shiny watches.
    You weren’t standing there long before your ears caught a voice that sounded smooth, like milk and honey. It was gentle, melodious. It made your heart start beating at a rapid pace. Your head turned until you could see the angel standing there in all his glory.
    “It’s alright, Luke. I’m sure you’ll find it next time!” Simeon assured the smaller boy, setting a hand on his shoulder. Your breath caught in your throat as you listened to him laugh. The sweet sound sent shivers down your spine.
    “(y/n)!” Luke called when his eyes fell on your figure. This seemed to pull you from your trance, causing you to look at the shorter boy.
    “What are you doing out here by yourself? Did those demons abandon you here?” The blonde boy gasped, tugging at the bottom of your shirt. While he looked sweet, whenever the brothers were brought up, his face would scrunch in disgust. Except for Beel, he seemed to like Beel.
    “I was here with Mammon,” You told him, shifting your eyes from Luke to the tall figure behind him, “But he ran off. I’m okay on my own, though.”
    Simeon sent you a warm grin, “Well, you may join us if you’d like. We’re headed back to Purgatory Hall.” It sounded homey, like your favorite song. You’d do anything to keep hearing that sweet, sweet voice.
    So you agreed, taking your place to Simeon’s left. You knew Mammon would be mad at you later for leaving him, especially if he knew you ran off with the angels. You’d deal with that when the time came.
fourth; the color of his eyes is blue enough to drown in. he is turning you into a cliched love-wrecked being. you are drowning, always sinking. down, down, down.
    The beach was always a nice place to visit, especially the private beach of Lord Diavolo. The sun shined down warmly on your skin, and the cool ocean water lapped at your toes. It was a lovely day.
    And it was even better considering who you were with. The seven demon brothers were running ramped, each doing their own thing. You were also joined by your fellow human, Solomon, and the two angles.
    You closed your eyes and tilted your head up towards the sky, letting the light shine over you. A few seconds later, a presence appeared at your side.
    Simeon was standing next to you with a gentle kindness filling his features. A smile graced his face when you look back at him. “Enjoying yourself?”
    You nodded, a content smile gracing your lips. “Yeah, it’s a really nice day today. I’m glad we could all come out together.”
    By far, your favorite part of living in the Devildom was the connections you had made. Each of them had such distinct personalities that made them stand out. You couldn’t imagine your life without them anymore.
    The conversation flowed, but eventually, you couldn’t focus. Your eyes were staring into his, and they were such a deep sapphire. You could hardly concentrate on the words leaving his mouth. You didn’t think he could get more beautiful than he looked at that moment.
    You could compare his eyes to the sea spread out in front of you. They were deep and blue, holding both kindness and mystery. They shimmered in the sunlight, and you felt utterly helpless. You were drowning in them and couldn’t make your way out.
    Simeon noticed your lack of attention, of course. He stopped talking and began to take you in as well. He couldn’t deny how enamored he was by you. There had been something about you the moment you met that he couldn’t shake.
    He wanted desperately to love you, but he also knew what happened the last time an angel fell in love with a human.
    But maybe, just this once, he could indulge himself for a few moments.
fifth; you know him. you love him. through a thousand lifetimes, across millions of stars, you’d find him. you’d never leave. you love him. till death do you part.
    The night was quiet, and the lights were dimmed low; the soft melody of classical music filled your ears. You enjoyed having quiet nights like this. Nights, where there was nothing to do and you could just relax.
    But you felt far from relaxed. For one, you weren’t in your room. You weren’t even in the House of Lamentations. You were currently sitting on Simeon’s bed, brushing shoulders with him as warmth crept up the back of your neck.
    It was becoming painful. You didn’t think love was supposed to feel painful. Whenever he touched you, you burned. Whenever you looked at him, you felt like you were drowning. You felt so drawn to him that being separated made your heart ache.
    You knew that if you didn’t tell him soon, you’d combust. You could feel the searing desperation bulging at your seams.
    So you looked at him again. His eyes were focused on the book in his lap; it was one he had just started. He had explained to you earlier that it was about a boy and a girl that began as friends. This soon led to them getting closer and closer until they blossomed into something more.
    You wondered how it felt. What it would be like to love and be loved in return. You felt your throat tighten at the thought. It took you a few moments to regain your composure. And when you did, you spoke.
    “Hey, Simeon?”
    He could listen to you talk forever, he decided. Your voice was music to his ears, even more beautiful than the sound of all the angels in heaven singing. Your smile made his heart twist in a way it never had before. You were radiant.
    “Yes, (y/n)?”
    Your heart hammered against your ribs as his eyes met yours. You could back out right now, and things would be fine. But what if he happened to feel the same way you did? That would surely make all this pain worth it.
    “I just... I just thought I should tell you something,” You paused in an attempt to gather your thoughts. Should you just come out and say it? Should you hint at it? The patient smile on his face made your thoughts scramble.
    “Simeon, I’m in love with you.”
    The words came out easier than you had thought they would. They fell out, and there was nothing you could do about it now. You looked away, not wanting to see his reaction. You didn’t think you could take it if he looked disgusted. But this is Simeon. He wouldn’t do that. Would he?
    A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest when you turned away. He reached a hand up to cup your jaw and turned you to face him again.
    The look in his eyes and the smile on his face gave you everything you needed to know.
sixth; he loves you too.
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     thank you for reading :) have a good day!
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personasintro · 4 years ago
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My Tiny Secret | 18; Worth It
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𝑴𝒚 𝑻𝒊𝒏𝒚 𝑺𝒆𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒃𝒃𝒍𝒆 | 18; Worth It
⏤𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; Pretty face doesn’t make it up for an ugly personality. And Kim Seokjin is the perfect proof of that.
⏤𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: seokjin x reader
⏤𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: angst, smut, mistress au, unexpected pregnancy au
⏤𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: strong language, mature content
⏤> 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒙
a/n: this is a continuation and the last flashback from the previous chapter!
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The ride is quiet, accompanied by the soft music again that should ease your mind, but it doesn't. Giving him your address and watching him to tap it into the touch screen of his car, was tense. He doesn't speak, focusing on the dark road ahead of him, his face illuminated by the street lights every now and then.
Deciding it's better to focus your eyes elsewhere, you pull out your phone to find a single message from Taehyung. He never texts you unless it's something about your shifts, but this time he shows his worry about you. You text him back, saying you're on your way home now. It takes him a whole minute to read the text and send you a thumbs up emoji.
“Is that your boyfriend?”
Your head snaps to the quiet, but still prominent voice. He's not looking at you, even when he stops at the red light as you lick your lips nervously.
“I don't have a boyfriend.” you tell him, sinking into the leather seat that's too far comfortable. You could fall asleep right away.
“I know,” he says, causing you to look at him again.
Did he stalk you? Does he know more than he shows? Before you can let your mind and thoughts go wild, he continues making your shoulders relax.
“I don't think you'd come to see me, if you had a boyfriend.” he simply explains.
He's making it sound like he knows you, and it irritates you but you stay quiet. Is he just trying to be smart, making you think he knows everything or he's just quietly observing you and then letting his thoughts speak out loud.
“Why were trying to get to know me? Asking all those questions...” you trail off, mentally sighing when a green light shows up and he puts car into drive again.
“What were you expecting me to do? Stare at your face and stay silent?”
You're dumbfounded for a second, thinking about the right answer.
“Can't man be a curious?” he questions, but doesn't say anything further.
It felt fresh for him – to talk to someone who's not trying to impress him, or is intimidated by him. He can't explain it himself, something about you made him curious. Of course, he hoped he'd get some information about your father. When he saw the emotion flash behind your eyes, when he talked about your father, he thought you were lying to him. He asked you and invited you to a dinner, in hopes you'd tell him sooner or later. But instead, he feels almost stupid for doing that. But how can he trust a stranger?
You don't trust him either.
Some part of him still thinks you must know something. It's your father for fucks sake. Hasn't he made any contact? He just stole the money and left? Some part of him naively thought, that your father would come up to you and give you some amount of those money. Seokjin's not stupid. You work at some stupid coffee shop that probably pays you much less than you deserve.
Even the address of your apartment building tells him, that it's not that great neighborhood.
“I'm sorry,” you choke out, eyes wide as your voice fills the silence. The melody from the radio is barely recognizable, making your voice stand out even more. “I'm sorry that my father stole your money. I'm so ashamed for that, I can't believe he'd stoop so low.” you tell him, seeing your apartment building.
He parks it at an empty space, his sport car between two old vehicles is looking almost comical.
“Why are you sorry?” he asks, turning his head to look at you. “You didn't do it. You're not responsible of your father's actions.”
It's weird, but even the small sentence puts you at ease.
“I know that,” you mumble, fumbling with your fingers as you feel a warm air hitting your exposed legs from the heating. “How can I look at you and talk to you, when I know my father did something like this?”
You're ashamed, even though it's not your fault.
“Maybe I can pay you back? I'll send you some amount every month.” you suggest.
Even though it's your father's shit, you can't help but feel guilty. You don't want to be known as a thief's daughter, and you definitely don't want the police to be involved. They'd just question you about him and you'd never be able to move on from him. Something, that you've worked so hard on would be shattered in seconds.
“Sorry to break it to you, sweetheart. But I doubt you have fourteen million won.”
You choke on your spit, your hand flying towards your chest as you cough. “What?!” you almost yell.
“Besides, you have nothing to do with this.” he sighs, fumbling his eyes as he looks tired.
He's right. You don't have that amount and it would took you years, to earn that kind of money. It's better if you'd just drop this and go back to your old life.
“You wanna come upstairs?” you gulp, the silence that follows after causes a red tint appear on your cheeks.
“I don't think that's a good idea,” he says, unfortunately for you. “You've drank some wine.”
“So? I'm not drunk nor tipsy. I've drank a whole glass of water and I'm completely fine. See? I'm fine.” you point towards your face and for the first time, you see the corner of his mouth lift upwards.
But it doesn't last long before he looks at the street.
“Why are you inviting me upstairs?” he asks, jaw clenching for a few seconds before he looks at you.
“I'm not sure,” you admit. “To talk, I guess?”
He eyes you, eyes trailing all over your face before his brows furrow.
“You're not trying to pay me by...” he trails off, still with those suspicious eyes.
He thinks you're inviting him upstairs to have sex with him, paying your father's debt.
“Oh my god! No! I would never do that! I don't fuck for money, I'm not a slut!” you quickly explain, words stuttering before you grow offended that he'd think such a thing. “You know what-- forget it. Thanks for the drive.”
You're reaching for the door handle, making sure your purse is clutched in your grasp before you open the door.
“Actually, I'd like to have some tea.” he speaks all of a sudden, halting your movements as you slowly turn around.
He's looking at you with the same intense look like he tends to do. You're the one who eyes him this time, wondering if it's a good idea to invite him to your home. Your brain screams at you a huge 'no', but you find yourself sighing before you open your mouth.
“Okay, let's go.”
The walk to your apartment is awkward, the front door creaks as you open them. The awful smell of the hallway and in the elevator is awful but bearable, only because you got used to it. You almost regret inviting him in, seeing in how awful state your building is. He wears a designer suit for fucks sake, and stands in the old elevator that smells like shit.
He doesn't comment on it, slowly following you as you walk up to your front door, opening it with a security code and a key.
As you awkwardly take off your heels, tossing them next to your sneakers, you lead him into your living room. The whole apartment is pretty small, probably in the same size as his office is.
The walls are old, and the small kitchen that's connected with the living room, almost blows his mind. The kitchen counter consists of three counters and he wonders how the hell you cook in there. He asks you for the bathroom, wanting to wash his hands and when you point towards one of the two doors, he makes his way there.
The shower is in typical Korean style, with no curtain, which means you most likely splash everything with water whenever you take a shower. It's a luxury to have a proper shower with doors or curtain, or even bath. It's something that Seokjin has, both of it. Even though the place looks like shit, he sees how you tried to make it nice.
With all those fake plants and Ikea furniture, he has to acknowledge your effort.
When he sits on your two seat couch, a blanket that covers all the stains that got them from the previous owner, he looks almost awkward sitting there. Yet, he doesn't show his thoughts or opinions about your living.
You hand him a cup of tea, the strawberry flavor one as he requested, before you awkwardly sit next to him.
“I know this place isn't much, but it does the job.” you chuckle, cheeks heating from embarrassment.
He stays quiet, blowing some air to his tea to make it less hot.
He has never lived or been in such an small apartment. He was born into a wealthy family that makes sure he'd never end up like... you. It's fucked up, but he can't even imagine himself living like you do.
“Don't you have two jobs?” he questions.
“Yeah, but the coffee shop isn't paying me that much, since I usually work on weekends. And the office job isn't that great either, my boss is a huge dick. I want to quit, but I can't. Not until I'll find something better. I can't loose a job, it's too much of a risk.” you explain, although it's hard to say it out loud.
Especially in front of him, when you feel ashamed for some reason.
“Why is your boss a dick?” he asks, surprising you that he specifically asks about that.
It takes you a moment to answer, causing him to look at you with those dark eyes. “He.. he's known for using his female employees.” you almost whisper, causing him to frown.
“Has he ever...” he trails off, causing your eyes to widen.
“No! Those women want it, it's not like he pressures them into anything. But I just know that he's open to use them, if they're willing to do that, of course.”
“Why would they let him use them?” he asks, genuinely confused.
It's a new emotion that you see, almost making you smile that you got to see him in different light. “I don't know. Apparently he increases their pay, but it's mainly just gossip. But honestly, I think it's true. All of those women that went to that office, got better payment and position. It's hard to fight with that.”
He looks around, glancing at your cheap art that's printed and nowhere near close to be considered as real. He's not much of a art guy himself, but even he can recognize it and see it's fake.
“Have you ever thought...” He doesn't finish the question, glancing back at you, but you know what he's asking.
Your nose scrunches in disgust and you shake your head. For some reason, you get why would he question you about it. Your apartment looks like shit and you could definitely use more money, or even better position.
“No, god. That man is around his forties,” you mutter in disgust, before you realize how that sounded. “I mean, not that it matters. Even if he was my age, I could never do that. That's why I want to quit. It makes me sick to go back there every Monday and every day.”
He nods, taking a cautious sip of his tea and when it's not hot anymore, he goes for another sip. He drinks in silence, making it especially awkward since it's silence. But you've no fucking idea what to talk about, and he doesn't seem to be the one who wants to start a conversation.
“I, um, I gonna change myself if that's alright with you.” you stand up, catching his attention once again as he sees you pointing towards your dress.
He nods, not uttering a word, and you take that as a clue to disappear into your bedroom. Five minutes later, you walk out with black sweatpants and casual shirt, looking basic as ever. You feel much better, and you wish you could just take off your bra as well. That tiny bitch that holds your breast tightly and pushes them up.
“I've to ask,” you speak up, sitting back on your previous spot as you notice the empty cup. He drank the whole tea while you were gone. “Will you go to the police?”
As usual, he doesn't react nor answers right away. He takes his time, making your nerves even more intense and prominent, as his fingers find their way to his black hair, brushing through them.
“No.” he answers, your shoulders relaxing in an instant but your face scrunches in confusion.
“Why not?”
“I don't think it's worth it.” he answers casually, shrugging his shoulders.
“Fourteen million won isn't worth it?” you chuckle, bulging your eyes at him.
Holy fuck, this man has to have a mansion and a huge account if fourteen million won isn't worth it. If it's not worth it, why the hell was he looking for your father? You remember asking him if he'll go to the police, he told you maybe he will.
Kim Seokjin is a confusing guy that makes your heart spin, from all the overthinking.
“No.” he says simply making you gape at him.
“You're crazy.” you say before you can stop yourself, causing him to chuckle.
“You're not the first one to think that, but you're the first one to say it out loud.” he points out, although no humor or emotion can be recognized behind it.
You're about to reach for the empty cup, when you stop in midst. “Thank you.” you tell him, realizing how close you're to him when you meet his dark eyes, looking empty.
You can smell his cologne, see his skin from close and even notice a small mole underneath his left eye. He looks stunning, shame he's so cold and emotionless.
“For what?” he asks quietly, eyes dropping to your lips before he looks back into your eyes.
“For not going to the police. Whatever your reason behind that is, thank you.”
You had the need to tell him that, to show him your gratitude even though you might not effected his decision. You do realize what him, bringing that to the police and court, would do with your life. It's not like you'd have to pay him back or something, but the reason behind your stress is strictly psychical. You'd have to deal with your father's shit again, screwing up your already fucked up life.
Seokjin might not realize what it means to you, but you still appreciate it.
When your own eyes drop to his lips, glistening in the lightening, you're already moving on your own as you press your lips to his. They're so soft, making you want to press them harder but you pull away with red cheeks. You've never been so bold, making the first move. The man is so fucking intimidating, yet you find yourself craving for him.
“I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that.” you blurt out, chuckling in embarrassment as he silently watches you.
“Here you were thinking I was trying to get you in bed, when you're the one who kissed me.” he says, cracking the littlest grin that you've ever seen but – it's there.
“I'm sorry!” you blurt out again.
“I'm joking,” he tells you, scoffing slightly. Is he for real? Kim Seokjin jokes? “If you wanted to kiss me, at least make sure it's a proper kiss.” he rolls his eyes, watching your widened eyes before they drop back to his inviting lips.
This time, you're hesitating, your fingers fumbling nervously as you shift on your spot. Seokjin makes it easier, cupping your face before he connects your lips much more quicker and harder, tasting your lips. It's not a single kiss, his mouth molding into yours as he moves them. Your breath is caught in your throat, your lips mimicking his every movement while he blows your mind. You've never been kissed so eagerly and even though you haven't kissed that many people, you're more than sure he kisses so fucking good.
Your hands find their way to his broad shoulders, before you hastily grab his neck pulling him even closer. Your body moves on its own, sitting on his lap before he grabs your waist. The lack of oxygen causes the both of you pull away, but he doesn't stop. His lips move to your neck, tasting your skin there as a faint fragrance sticks to your skin.
You don't recognize yourself. You've never had sex with someone you barely know, but something about Seokjin makes you feel safe. It's crazy and your mind is telling you that you're fucking crazy, but your movements are even more eager. Even when he lays you onto your back, going back to kissing you. His thigh parts your legs, dangerously close to your heat where you crave him the most.
“Bedroom.” you tell him between kisses, glad he doesn't hesitate when he pulls away but grabs you into his arms.
Your legs attach to his hips, silently admiring his strength as he holds you with no struggle. He doesn't ask which one is your bedroom, knowing the other door is your bathroom. He places you on your single mattress that's laying on the floor, no actual bed frame.
Most people sleep like this, but he has never seen it with his own eyes.
He's going back kissing your lips and neck, your mouth open as silent gasps leave, your hands clutching onto his forehead and back of his head. Your body feels like it's on fire, hips rocking into Seokjin's thigh.
He pulls away, brows furrowed as he stares at you. You panic when he sits onto his heels, breathing heavily. His own lips are swollen, abused by your own, but the sight only makes your eyes dance with lust.
“You need to know that I don't make love,” he says breathlessly, catching his own breath. “I don't want you to think this is something more.”
He doesn't say anything further, but you're not stupid. Basically, what he told you is that you shouldn't expect much from this. But you could never see him as a man being in a relationship. That thought haven't even crossed your mind and you're not naive.
“I know,” you whisper. “I don't expect anything more from this.”
When you tell him that you're fine, you've no idea whether it puts him in ease, but he goes back to kissing you. Your body clutches to his, desperate for every little touch he gives you as you grind onto his thigh with desperate moans.
“When was the last time you had sex?” he asks between kisses, grabbing your thigh through the fabric, but you can still feel his strong grip.
You can't even remember. Is that such a bad thing?
“Or are you...?” he trails off, about to pull away in question when you wrap your legs around him.
“No, I'm not. It's just been awhile.” you tell him, suddenly growing scared that he doesn't want you.
But he surprises you when he nods, taking off his suit jacket, throwing it on the floor without care. You gulp at the sight in front of you, his buffed chest and biceps visible through his shirt. The buttons restrain with each time that his muscles tense, while his silver watch glisten even in the darkness. The only sort of lightening coming from the living room, through opened door and the street lights from your opened blinds. Just enough for you to see him and notice such details.
Your shirt is the first one to go, by yourself as you expose your white lace bra. He shamelessly stares at your breasts, and it's hard to guess what he thinks, but you don't want to think about his every reaction. He's here, isn't he?
He helps you with your sweatpants, throwing them over his slacks before he pushes your legs apart, eyeing your clothed pussy. Licking his lips, he glances at you as you stretch your legs even more, giving him a silent plea. He smirks amusingly, slowly unbuttoning his shirt as you stare at him without blinking. His upper body is fit, defined abs decorating his stomach while his skin looks so smooth. You almost wish you'd turn all the lights on to see him fully. But something about the dim lightening makes this scene much more erotic.
He fully takes it off, not giving you any more time to gawk at him before he lays between your legs, face right in front of your pussy. He hooks a finger, very faintly touching your folds which makes your breath hitch. He's pushing your panties aside, before he pecks your clit. You moan loudly, too loud for just a single touch but you can't help it.
You hear him chuckling, your mind wanting to tell him to shut up, but your thoughts are cut off when he starts kissing your clit moving to your folds. He's the first one to go down on you, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape at the new sensation. He leaves you moaning around him, your juices dripping down before he licks them off and starts to devour you with his mouth again. He's basically making out with your pussy, repeating the same process until he's pushing his two digits into you. It takes him a couple of strokes against your walls, before you're cumming against his fingers with a silent cry.
He rides you off your high, licking off your cum before he sits back onto his heels, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Do you have a condom?” he asks, adjusting his slacks and obvious erection, that makes you salivate.
If you don't, he'd be forced to stop this. He never thought he could get laid tonight.
You sit up, your underwear covering your glistening pussy as you reach towards your nightstand. Thankfully, Hoseok bought you a pack of condoms as a joke. You were about to give them back to him, he'd probably need them more, but that has changed. You examine the box, before you look at Seokjin.
“I'm not sure if it's going to fit.” you mutter, handing him the box as he takes it from you.
He stands up, taking off his slacks and boxer briefs at the same time, making your eyes automatically widen. You weren't prepared for that, to be exposed to his hard cock right away. You watch his hand wrap around his cock, giving himself a few lazy strokes before he opens the package, pulling a condom. He throws the box onto the floor, opening the foil package with his teeth. Silently watching him, he grabs his cock before he slides the condom on.
He gives himself a few testing strokes, eyeing the rubber. “It's a tight fit, but it'll do.” he comments, making you nod as you quickly scurry to lay on your back.
You reach behind your back, unclasping your bra before you toss it away, exposing your breasts to him. He eyes them, pupils blown before he dives in to have a taste. He licks your nipple, wrapping his mouth around it as he starts to suck. Your back arches, moaning when he does the same to the other one. You try to take off your panties, it's a bit struggle but you manage to take them off after a few attempts.
He doesn't waste any time, lining up himself at your entrance as he rubs his cock against your clit and folds. “Ready?” he asks, glancing at you, a strand of hair falling to his forehead.
“Yes.” you answer him, looking at the ceiling instead.
You saw his cock. It's bigger than you've imagined, there's no way you're going to take him easily even after he made you cum.
He slowly pushes in, his head pushing your folds apartment. He's barely in, stretching your hole so much that it makes you whimper. He's holding himself on his elbow next to your head, while the other one holds his cock. Hovering over you, he watches between your bodies as he tries to push in some more.
“Fuck,” he gasps, not even fully in as he pulls out. “I don't think you're stretched enough.” he comments, muttering under his breath as you close your eyes in mere embarrassment.
“Just put it in, I can take it.” you tell him, parting your legs even more.
“It's going to hurt.” he points out, something that you're very aware of.
“I need you to fuck me.”
He eyes you, almost making it seem as if he hesitates, before he sighs and grabs his cock again. He starts pushing in, this time going harder earning another whimper from you. You lock your legs around his waist, making the feeling much more intense as your walls burn with each millimeter that he manages to push in.
It feels like you're having sex for the first time all over again, your hole stretching to adjust to his size. Your own eyes watering at the uncomfortable feeling but you don't tell him to stop, not even when another whimper resounds from the back of your throat.
“I'm hurting you.” Seokjin says through clenched teeth, not even half way in.
He stares between your bodies, watching as your pussy tries to stretch out for him. You shake your head, not sure if he even registers it but he starts to circle your clit. It does feel slightly better, even though it's hard to focus on the burn between your legs. But he doesn't push himself deeper, staying in the same position while he starts to rub your clit. When the first moan scrambles from the back of your throat, followed by couple other ones before he tries to push himself further.
This time it's less painful, earning a silent groan from him. A sound, that you never thought could be so arousing. He pulls out and with each push, he reaches deeper. He does it slowly, and once he's almost fully nestled inside of you, he pushes faster, bottoming out. You both let out sighs of pleasure before he lets you a few seconds to adjust. He pulls out, just to push in back in, gradually moving faster with each stroke he does.
Soon enough, he's fucking into you, groaning whenever your nails dig into the flesh of his back. The sounds of your wetness echoing between the walls of your small bedroom, his balls hitting your ass as he tries to desperately reach his high. He's holding himself with one arm, while the other ones hikes your leg further making him go deeper. His face is buried in the crook of your neck, gasping into your skin as he keeps hitting your walls.
If he wasn't grabbing your body so tightly, you're sure your head would be banging against the wall. When his thrusts turn rigid, you can't hold it anymore. At first, you thought you wouldn't cum again considering he made you cum earlier, still sensitive from the orgasm and stretch by his cock. But now, you feel yourself letting go as your legs shake, whole body freezing before you cum around him. You're clenching him tightly, moaning his name into his ear before he cums as well. His movements turn sloppy, fucking himself through the orgasm and emptying his balls into the condom.
His body slumps his naked chest brushing against your perked nipples, as he stays inside of you, breathing heavily into your neck. Your hand reaches automatically into his hair, caressing him as he tries to calm down. He's still careful not to crash you underneath his weight, before he pushes himself off you.
You both grimace as he pulls out, taking off the condom that's full of his cum. Tiredly, you point towards the small bin in your bedroom as he ties a knot on it, before he throws it out. He doesn't go back to you, standing in front of you as he watches you with the same dark eyes. You shouldn't expect cuddles from him, or even just him laying next to you as you both take your time. He reaches for his slacks, dressing up his thrown and crinkled clothes.
You awkwardly reach for your shirt, dressing up yourself as well, hiding your naked and vulnerable form from him. When you're both dressed up, he walks out of your bedroom without a glance or word, and you slowly trail behind him.
You're not sure what you're supposed to say and neither is he. The hell, you're not sure if you'll ever see him again, you're not even sure if you want to.
He opens the front door, stopping before he turns around to glance at you. He sees you leaning against the door frame with unreadable expression, matching to his own. He doesn't even utter a pathetic 'bye', he just closes the front door shut behind him and leaves you standing there alone.
Later that week, fourteen million won is transferred to your bank account that makes your eyes bulge out. You're typing frantically, turning on the app of your back as you stare at the huge amount of money in your bank account.
A minute later, a message pops out on your screen, showing you a number that you thought would never contact you again. It's not saying much, only one sentence that makes you stop breathing.
'Make sure you find yourself a better job'
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marshmallow-phd · 4 years ago
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Catching Rain
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Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe
Genre: Wolf!AU
Pairing: Minseok x Reader
Summary: You were more than satisfied with your life. You attended a nice college, had nice friends, a nice boyfriend. That’s what your life was: nice. You weren’t looking for anything more, so what were you to do when this seemingly harmless boy walked into your life and turned your nice little world into one much more dangerous?
Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I Epilogue
**
You woke up in a sweat. Little beads dotted your upper lip and temples. The source of the heat was all around you, encompassing the space you occupied. It held you so close that you wondered in your hazy awakeness if you would ever feel the cold again. Not that you wouldn’t mind. Summer was always your favorite time of year. But right now, you could use a break from the personal space heater. 
Eyes breaking open, you sucked in air at how close Minseok was. His entire outline was a blur, only his nose and mouth in sharp focus. The previous night’s events came back to you. Though still slightly hazy, you remembered falling asleep during the movie, Minseok bringing you up here, and then asking him to stay. It was quite possibly the most peaceful rest you’d had in your life. 
Minseok was still asleep. His mouth was open just a bit and the slightest bit of tension in his eyebrows. Your arms were pinned between your chest and his. If you uncurled your fingers you could touch his slack jaw. Minseok’s arm was tight around your waist. He sighed happily before snuggling in closer, moving his face so it now rested in the crook of your neck. Okay, as satisfied as he was, this was now getting a bit uncomfortable for you. 
“Minseok?” He didn’t move. “Minseok.” You kept squirming until he finally woke up. 
At first he merely blinked away the sleep. When his eyes focused on you, they grew wide in horror. He scrambled back to give you room. 
“Sorry,” he mumbled. He pushed himself up into a sitting position. 
“It’s okay,” you said. The smile was nearly impossible to hold back. As you also sat up, your hand slipped under the pillow, hitting something hard. You frowned. It felt like a book. Did he like to read before he fell asleep? You pulled the book out. No. 
It was your notebook of ideas. 
Panic set in his eyes. “I swear I was going to give it back.” 
“Where did you find it?”
“I’m the wolf you’ve been meeting in the clearing, remember? I found it the first day. I meant to give it back to you, but it would have been hard to explain, given the circumstances.”
You took a deep breath. The notebook was a reminder of all the information that had been dumped on you in the last twenty-four hours. It had been so easy to ignore the processing time your brain needed. Being in Minseok’s presence made it easy to forget a lot of things. “I, uh, I think I should go home.”
Disappointment was an understatement for Minseok’s expression. “Yeah. Right. I’ll take you back home.”
“Actually, I just need to get to my car. I parked it on one of the back roads.”
“Okay.”
He waited patiently for you to get out of the bed and put your shoes back on. He didn’t question why you’d parked out there. Simple answer was that he had made the connection to your little hike. You excused yourself to go to a bathroom, in which he pointed you towards. You didn’t have anything to brush your teeth or hair, so you settled on a splash of water to the face. Your go-to bathroom habit at this point. When you returned to the bedroom, Minseok was in fresh clothes. Keys in hand, he stepped passed you without a word. You followed him down to the first floor. Using your notebook as a shield against your chest, you tried to be as invisible to any of the others you ran into as you exited the house. Out in the garage, you got into the car that Minseok indicated. 
The ride was quiet, save for the few times you gave Minseok directions to where you’d parked your car. Closing your eyes, you leaned your head against the glass. You were still tired and could feel a headache starting to emerge.
“Uh, (y/n)?”
“Hm? What is it?” You opened your eyes and nearly shot out of the car. 
Several police cars and at least twenty civilians were all huddled around the area where your car sat. Erik was amongst them, talking to one of the officers. As soon as Minseok’s vehicle was pulled over to the side and the engine turned off, you bolted. 
“Erik!”
He looked so relieved when he saw you. The officer looked shocked, then his face rested into a neutral expression. “You must be (y/n).”
You nodded. “Yes, I am. What’s going on?”
Minseok came up just then. Erik did a double take then frowned. His eyes drifted down to your hand. You were still holding on to the notebook that Erik would recognize in a heartbeat. He motioned to Minseok with his head as he asked you, “The guy from the pictures?” 
Minseok looked surprised at the comment. And even a little embarrassed. But he did the gentleman thing and held out his hand. “I’m Minseok.”
Erik ignored the hand, barely glancing at it. “We were all worried about you. Do you realize what we thought when your phone was off and the cops found your car out here?” 
You flinched back. “I’m sorry, I was… taking pictures. I lost track of time.” 
“You lost track of time?” Erik scoffed. “That’s all you have to say?” 
“Hey, back off,” Minseok growled, taking a step so he was now partially between you and Erik. “She’s a grown adult. She doesn’t have to check in with you every three hours. She can make her own decisions.” 
Erik looked him up and down. “That much is apparent.” 
Shaking your head, you turned to the third man in the group. “I’m sorry, officer. This was all a misunderstanding.” 
“It’s alright. Just be careful next time, okay? Maybe let someone know where you are.” He looked at Erik. “We’ll call off the search party and let everyone go home.”
“Thank you,” Erik said. His tone was low and short.  The officer left to scatter the rest of the people. Erik barely looked at you. “I’m glad you’re safe. Turn your phone back on.” With that, he stalked off towards his car.
Minseok scratched the back of his head as he shifted from foot to foot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.” 
“It’s fine. Really, it's my own fault.” You dug your keys out of your pocket. “I should get home.”
“I understand. Can we talk? Later?” He sounded so hopeful, so sure. But you still needed time to think. Your brain felt scrambled, pulled and stretched like taffy on a hook. 
“Yeah,” you finally answered. “Later.”
He must have been hoping for a more enthusiastic response. You didn’t have the energy for that right now. “Okay. Um, okay.” That was his goodbye as he turned and headed back to his car. Did he have to look so much like a wounded puppy? You watched his car disappear down the road, a cloud of tan dust following closely behind.
You waited for everyone else to clear out before getting into your own car. For a minute or two, you sat there. It seemed so bizarre, surreal, the situation you found yourself in. And it wasn’t even the pack of humans-to-wolves that had you so disoriented. It was the fact that Erik had called the police, that a search party had been formed to find you after one night away. It was obvious that he still cared, break or not. Turning on your phone, you groaned as the notifications stacked up. Missed calls, texts in all caps, other social media contacts. You tossed the device into the passenger’s seat and drove home. 
Willa was waiting for you at the dorms. As soon as you walked through the door, she pounced. 
“Oh, thank god you’re okay!” When she let you go, she punched you in the shoulder. 
“Ow!” You rubbed the sore spot. “Was that really necessary?”
Willa pouted. “You could have least told me that you were heading out. Might have saved us this fiasco.”
“You were asleep.” And you would have been punched anyway. Willa insisted that she had no control over her limbs in that groggy state, but you didn’t entirely believe that. “I’m fine. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Minseok’s right, I'm an adult. I don’t need babysitters.”
“Who’s Minseok?”
Oh… crap. “Um, he’s just a friend. A tutor, really.”
Willa took that pathetic explanation. Although, truthfully, that was how it all started. “Oh, did you finally decide to get help so you can finally pass math class?”
You narrowed your eyes at her. “Jerk.” 
“What?” Willa said innocently. “I want to see you graduate. You’ve been talking about getting your masters and I want to see you do that. Kind of need to pass your classes to get there.”
Stalking past her, you fell down on your bed, face towards the ceiling. 
“Hey, you okay?” Willa asked. 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you lied. “Just tired.”
“I bet, if you stayed out all night.” Willa sat down on her bed across from you. “Where were you, anyway?”
You shrugged. “Just… around. Clearing my head.”
“You were safe, at least?”
“Perfectly.”
“Good.”
**
Nearly a week went by. You went to class as normal. You were nearly finished with your extra credit project. Minseok had given you the perfect jumping off point and diving into the project had given you the ultimate excuse to not think about anything else. Between that and your other classes, you’d hardly had any interaction with the people close to you. Besides Willa, you’d almost completely isolated yourself. The reasoning you had given yourself was to think things through, to decide if you would turn back around and go down the other road or keep heading forward. The only problem was, you kept avoiding it. 
You didn’t think about Erik or Minseok. Or, you tried not to. If little thoughts of them started to creep up, you would find something to distract yourself with. A jog, a scary movie (avoiding anything supernatural), or homework. You would immerse yourself until the thoughts went away. Avoidance might not have been a healthy coping mechanism, but it was the one you were going with. 
You were currently participating in that mechanism as you lied on your bed, watching videos on the internet. It was simply you and your short laughs as you switched from clip to clip. The internet was a black hole. Once you got too close, you were sucked into a place where time no longer moved at a normal pace. 
Willa walked in and dropped her bag on the floor. You barely acknowledged her long, drawn out sighs that were clearly made for attention. She sighed again. Louder, this time. When that still didn’t work, she threw her pillow at you.  
You turned off the phone and finally looked at your best friend. “Sometimes I wonder why I put up with you.”
“It could have been avoided if you’d looked up from your phone the first time.”
Sitting up, you turned to her. “Okay. What can I do for you?”
She pursed her lips. “I’m hungry.” Like it had been waiting for an invitation, your own stomach growled. Willa smiled. “Sounds like you are, too!”
You laughed. “Sure, okay. Let’s go get something to eat.” 
Willa hopped off the bed and switched her things from her backpack to a purse. You pulled on a pair of shoes and shoved your feet in. As the two of you headed out and towards Willa’s car, she came up with an additional idea. 
“Why don’t you ask Erik to join us?” 
You cringed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” 
She sent you a look. “Why not?”
That was right. You hadn’t completely updated her on the recent events of your life. “Because… we’re on a break.” 
She unlocked her car and opened the driver’s side door, but didn’t get in. Leaning against the open space, she said, “Like… a real break or a Ross and Rachel kind of break?” 
You shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest.” 
Willa was quiet for a second. She was looking away from you, eyebrows scrunched in thought. “Was he the one who suggested it?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded. “Why do you ask?” 
“I-” She clicked her tongue several times. “Look, I didn’t want to say anything because it wasn’t my place and I didn’t know what the situation was anyway. This is college, we all have to work with others and-” 
“Willa, spit it out.” Your heart was picking up speed in anticipation of what secret she was about to reveal.
“I’ve seen Erik talking to some girl in the theatre department. A lot.” She threw her hands up. “Innocently, by the way. It didn’t look suspicious at all, besides the frequency. And the fact that it was just the two of them. Did I just make things worse?” 
You found the corners of your lips turning up. “No, actually, I feel a lot better.” 
“Really?” Willa looked taken aback. “Are you saying that… you might not be in love with Erik anymore?”
“I think we’ve grown apart,” you said. 
“Maybe… because of someone else?” Willa looked at you with a cheeky smile. 
You rolled your eyes. “Let’s take this one step at a time, okay? Get in. I’m hungry.”
Willa laughed softly to herself, but got behind the wheel. The two of you had dinner at the small malt shop that had been a staple in the city for decades. You munched happily on the fries and sipped on your chocolate shake with no worries whatsoever. Willa saw your sudden change in mood, but didn’t say anything, keeping the conversation on a lighter note. 
Apparently, talking to someone about what was going on was, indeed, a good idea. It was natural for two people to grow apart. And you had been destined for someone else all along. 
The next day, you went about your routine as normal. After your last class, you headed towards the theatre. It was hell week, as the thespians say. It meant every spare moment was spent in the theatre to get ready for opening night. Erik would be there to make sure any last touches on the set were taken care of. As you neared the building, a familiar spectacled man exited the front doors with a small group of people.  
“Eric, wait.” 
He stopped and waited for you to meet him. He had a tight grip on the strap of his messenger bag. The group stopped and waited, but he shooed them on. 
“What is it, (y/n)?”
You folded your arms over your chest. “We need to talk.”
“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for this.” He looked down at the cement sidewalk, kicking an invisible object. “I guess the break will be permanent, then, huh?” 
You moved your own gaze off to the side. “I… um.” 
Then it hit you. Why did you have to be so scared about this? It wasn’t a permanent ending. And you were allowed to make your own choices. You shouldn’t have to beat around the bush and spare his feelings. Wouldn’t it be better just to be honest? 
“You know what? Yes, it will be,” you said assertively. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen, but that’s life. People change, others come along. And from what I hear, you’re moving on, too.”
Erik’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t do anything.”
“I know,” you said. “And neither have I. But feelings change. It's okay to follow them.” A mindset you were only now learning for yourself. 
Erik adjusted the bag’s strap to sit more comfortably on his shoulder. “Maybe it’s good that it ended this way. Maybe... we could still be friends?”
“Yeah, maybe.” Arm’s length friends, anyway. 
Erik looked over his shoulder at the group that was now huddled around a car. “I’ve got to go. But… thank you. For talking to me about this. I feel a lot better. I hope you do, too.”
You blinked. “Yeah, of course.”
Erik gave you one last wave before going to join the others. The sun was starting to go down, but you didn’t want to go back to the dorms just yet. You decided to head downtown, to walk around and figure out what exactly you would say to Minseok. You knew it had to be in person. Simply calling him wouldn’t be enough. You needed to see him. 
Hey, so Erik and I officially broke up. And I like you. Heck, I might even be falling in love with you. I want to be your mate. Now what?
Yeah, you could be so articulate sometimes. 
Night had fallen by now. The brightest stars in the sky were shining, breaking through the city lights that drowned out the others. A few people milled about. It was that lull time of night when the dinner rush was dying out and people were getting ready for their late night escapades. 
“(y/n)!”
You nearly laughed out loud before turning around. It was like Fate was pulling the strings, putting you on the path that would lead you right back to him. And you couldn’t say that you were upset about it. In fact, it might be the push you needed. 
“Hi, Minseok,” you said in a quiet voice as he approached. He was alone. Thank goodness. You didn’t really want to have an audience for this.
“How have you been?” He kept his hands in the pockets of his black jeans. His shoulders were tense, pushed upwards as if he were holding himself back. 
“Not… too horrible,” you replied. “You?”
“Anxious.” He was honest. Too honest. Knowing that he’d been anxiously waiting for you to do what you promised, to talk to him, made you feel horrible, selfish. Might as well stop stalling and pull the bandaid off in one go. 
“I, um, I talked to Erik.” 
His head shot up, eyes sparkling with anticipation. “You did?”
“Yeah.” You chuckled. “We… we broke up. For good. People drift apart. And, not only did I find myself drifting away from him, but I drifted towards someone else. Someone really special, made just for me.”
A smile so wide that his gums were showing spread across his face. He took a step towards you. “Really?”
You nodded. “Yeah. Really.”
Minseok didn’t hesitate. He reached forward, cupping your face with both of his hands. Then he kissed you. 
The first kiss was deep and electrifying. It was warm, soft. He took it slowly as you followed along. It was perfectly right. 
He was still smiling when he pulled away. You giggled at his happiness. He took that as an invitation to pepper your lips with more short kisses. He moved to your cheeks and your nose, making sure to capture every inch of your face. You were surprised by the shower of affection, but you certainly enjoyed it. An eruption of cheers broke the sweet moment. 
To your left, nearly the entire pack was clapping and cheering in jest. Junmyeon looked guilty and apologetic while Jongdae simply rolled his eyes. 
“And here I thought this was going to be a private moment,” you groaned through your teeth. 
“Sorry,” Minseok sighed. “Not in this family.”
You smiled at him. “I guess that’s something I’ll have to get used to.”
He leaned his forehead against your own. “Yeah. I guess it is.”
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emilyplaysotome · 4 years ago
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Queen's Choice - Part 5
This is the fifth chapter to a multi-part smutty fic with the MLQC boys.
Catch up:
part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4
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He’s up before I am, but I’m not surprised. I wake to the smell of coffee and breakfast, and my stomach lets out a growl. I usually do without or pick something up on the way to the office, but I can’t pass up his cooking.
I’m surprised at how sore I am from the previous night’s activities and my cheeks burn as I think about everything that transpired.
I think about what it felt like to be under him and on top of him and how despite what we did I still want more.
I wonder when I got so greedy and I also realize I only have a week of having my cake and eating it too before I have to start making hard decisions, so I do my best to push down the unpleasant thoughts and focus on the man in my kitchen.
As I’m getting ready, my phone lights up with a notification from Kiro.
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“It's just that I'm...back in town! You doing anything tonight?”
I can still smell Victor on me and it feels almost wrong to reply, but I do.
“Nada! Want to hang?”
“Something like that 😈 - I have a concert tonight and got you a VIP pass. I want you in the front row”
“…And I have a surprise for you before.”
“Oooh! A surprise. Like candy?” I type back with a grin.
“Something a bit spicier…”
With that he sends me the address with a time and I open the door to see Victor enjoying coffee and a plate of eggs with toast waiting for me.
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“Good morning sleeping dummy. I thought I’d be off on my work trip before you even woke up. So glad you could join me.”
He’s laying it on thick, but we kiss good morning as if we’ve been together for years. It’s just a peck on the lips but it makes this all feel very domestic and I take my seat next to him before digging in.
The food is amazing, which isn’t a surprise.
Victor smiles as he watches me eat with gusto and even though we’ve done this kind of thing before, having followed what we did last night it feels more intimate. There’s a moment where I look at him and smile and realize that the pendulum to my clock has stopped moving and I realize that he’s frozen us in this moment.
“I need to leave,” he explains, gently wiping some crumbs from my mouth. “But I don’t want to quite yet.”
It’s romantic and sweeter than I’m used to him being.
I feel myself swooning a bit and I take a gulp of the juice next the coffee he’s made and kiss him. A real kiss where I hope I taste like OJ and everything sweet instead of the savory breakfast he’s made for me. I can feel it starting to escalate but he gently pushes me away and says, “I need to go.”
“When do I get to see you again?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“I’ll be away on business. I’ll write when I’m back.”
I nod but am reminded of how important Victor is.
How unavailable he is at times.
He must see this and he kisses me gently again and says, ”I trust you’ll keep yourself occupied so you won’t miss me too much, yes?”
I nod, guiltily thinking about the fact I’ve already made myself plans with another man and that after signing the contract I thought about how I could see the others before time ran out for one of them. I don’t know if he sees through me, but he kisses my forehead and tells me to be a good girl while he’s away before putting on his jacket.
When he’s at the door he looks at me with a naughty smirk and says, “When I’m back we can live out your fantasy in my office. Until then I look forward to hearing what you dream up next in your bed about me.”
I feel myself go bright red and yell, “Have a good trip!” and hear the sound of his low laughter and the click of the door before I’m left alone with my breakfast and thoughts.
I think about how easy it’s been to float between four men and how they all come and go in a way that makes me question if any of them could be present in the way I want.
In the way my perfect one would be.
I forget about my worries and get lost in work, planning our next episode of Miracle Finder with Anna. We budget and make phone calls and laugh about challenging production experiences and before I know it the day is gone and it’s time to hit the gym.
I change into my clothes and I catch a small mark on my breast. I question who it’s from and why I don’t feel more satiated.
I had thought that by being with each of them, I would have some clarity but if anything I feel it has muddied things. I wonder if I need to try again. Or until Victor’s contract forces my hand.
It’s then that I shower him off of me and I feel a pang of melancholy.
I’m surprised by the fact that I liked having him on me but I’m about to meet Kiro and that feels like a personal line I don’t want to cross.
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The security at the venue is insane and I question if I’ll be able to make it back to the green room where Kiro instructed me to meet him. It’s only by chance that I run into Savin by the entrance and he escorts me through the labyrinth-like backstage, dropping me at the door before running off to take care of something else.
I knock and hear a cheerful voice inviting me in. I open it and enter, seeing Kiro in all his pop star glory, styled to the max but reclining on the couch, Nintendo switch in hand.
“Miss Chips you made it!”
“I did.”
He throws the switch aside and jumps up to greet me, giving me a deep kiss before evaluating my appearance.
“So cute. I don’t know how I’m going to stay focused on the concert with you up front looking like this…not to mention what I’ve planned for us.”
“For us?”
I can’t help but giggle as he gives me a little twirl before running off to get the surprise he’d mentioned but that I’d already forgotten about. It’s a box that gives few clues about its contents, and I open it and discover what looks like a sexy underwear set.
“Put it on.”
“Now? But…”
“Now. It’s locked, no one will come in.”
There’s an impish look I haven’t seen before and I obey, surprised that he runs over and turns his attention to his laptop instead of on my naked form. I can feel that there’s something…in this underwear, pressed up against my most sensitive spot and I don’t quite understand until I’m in it and he’s looking at me with a smile.
“I made this just for you,” he says with a smile.
“Made it?”
“Programmed it for your pleasure tonight…”
He starts to sing a soft melody that I recognize as his song “Key to your Heart” and the moment his voice hits the word “Key” I feel a vibration that’s subtle enough to go unnoticed by someone next to me but present enough to trigger a moan out of me.
His eyes are glued to me and he gets up and reaches out to gently touch my face before running his hand down lower to play with my breast the way he did when we were in the shower.
“Clever isn’t it?”
I realize that the word “Key” activates the mechanism, and knowing that I alone know his secret alter ego, I desperately try to regain my composure and say, “It’s a nice touch. How do I stop it?”
“I love you Kiro.”
“What?”
“Say it.”
I pause and he smirks and sings, “The KEY to your love…” and the intensity of the vibration increases.
I moan, “I love you Kiro” louder than I expect and the vibration stops.
He laughs and kisses me.
“Anyone else will think you’re just a fan, but I’ll know what’s happening.”
“I didn’t realize you played dirty.”
“I play to win…always.”
I can tell he’s serious and his gaze has an intensity it usually lacks. He doesn’t feel like the jovial, playful boy that I spent the past couple years with. He suddenly feels more mature and I find myself wanting his touch before the concert, but Savin’s knock interrupts us.
“Be right there!” He yells back, switching into his sweetheart persona.
“5 minutes,” Savin says from behind the closed door.
“Got it. I’ll see you backstage.”
Savin grunts in reply and it feels like my heart is the only one that’s racing.
“We’ll finish what we’ve started after the concert,” Kiro says, slipping a VIP lanyard around my neck. “See you here after the encore.”
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He doesn’t touch me, even though I’m riled up and I have no choice but to find my place in the crowd for his concert. When it starts I realize he’s only a few feet above me and while he does his typical amazing performance, I can feel him watching me through most of it.
He insists on saying the secret phrase more than usual, and I do my best to keep my composure in the crowd, too embarrassed to shout “I love you Kiro” as often as he says “Key”. The girls around me all squeal when he looks our way, which is often, and I struggle not to let his toy get the better of me.
I can tell he’s getting riled up too, watching me from the stage, because his eyes turn gold and he lets everyone know that the encore is coming early tonight. None of them care, especially not me, and within 20 minutes of the last song I’m back in the green room being bent over a couch that has seen years of this kind of behavior.
My clothes are still on but the underwear he gifted me is down around my ankles and he makes lewd comments as to how his toy has made it easy to have me. I’m almost embarrassed by my own wetness but he continues to moan filthy commentary as he fucks me which is far filthier than I ever expected him capable.
I realize that neither one of us were as sweet as we pretended to be with the other.
He flips me over and lifts me in a princess carry for a moment before laying me down on the couch. He spreads my legs in a way where I'm half laying, half sitting, exposed on the very edge to him and he enters me again. He nips at my neck, and lightly pinches my breast, toying with me, teasing me like he did all night and once again there’s a knock from Savin.
“Kiro - you’ve got a meet and greet in 15.”
He smirks but doesn’t stop.
“But I’ve got 15?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s all the time I need. Thanks Savin.”
I cover my mouth as to not alert his manager to what’s actually happening behind the door as he ups the intensity of his movement. He has full control over me and my pleasure and much to my excitement (as well as my disappointment), Kiro keeps his promise to Savin.
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We say goodbye a few minutes before the meet and greet, drenched in our own sweat and fluids but riding some endorphin high from the night.
He doesn’t mince his words this time.
“You know I’m in love with you right?”
“I…”
“And you know I play to win, right?”
I nod.
“Then I’ll be seeing you soon."
I watch him pause at the door before he looks back and adds, "Sooner than anyone else if I have to.”
“But what about your world tour?”
Savin knocks from beyond the door, but doesn’t want to leave this time.
“Kiro come on. Chop chop. I promised my wife I’d be home to put the kids to bed tonight, let’s go.”
I don’t know why, but I hide when he exits so it seems as if Kiro was in the green room alone before I compose myself to head home. I pass girls wearing t-shirts with Kiro’s face plastered all over them and I think about what we just did.
I think about how he’s off to meet fans, covered in me just as I am covered in him.
I think about what he said and how they all basically said it.
How I keep being asked to choose.
I still don’t want to choose.
It feels like a helpless situation, being pulled in all directions. I approach an intersection and looking at the traffic light, a lightbulb goes off in my head. I stop where I am on the sidewalk to send the exact same text to all four of them.
“Can I see you on Saturday?”
I have no idea what it is that they'll say, but on the small chance that this goes the way I think it might, I might have found a catch. I smile to myself, no longer feeling as conflicted and walk to pick up some dessert to enjoy when I'm home.
Cake perhaps.
It seems fitting for an occasion where having cake and eating it too applies to more than just sweet nothings...
--
Part 6
I hope you liked the fifth chapter of my steamy fic. If you liked this, please comment, share, and like! I love seeing that :)
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benedictscanvas · 5 years ago
Text
found - aaron hotchner
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Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader
Word Count: 4.6k (i got a little carried away with this one!)
Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, torture, serial killers, reader’s father was killed in a car crash, reader is the victim of emotional and (a small bit of) physical abuse from her mother, nice and fluffy ending
Request: i ADORE your writing. could you do a hotch x female reader where the reader works at the bau but comes from a really rich business family and a case comes in where her brother's gone missing because they want money from the family. they save him but the reader's mother belittles and slaps her, and the team stand up for her in front of her family and then later she goes to hotch's office and just some cute fluff because they've been in love with each other for years? ik it's weirdly specific lol
A/N: First of all, thank you! Also, never apologise for specific requests, it only means that I don’t have to think up an idea myself, haha, always a good thing! This one got away from me a little, but I just really loved how protective the team were of the reader here (especially my man Aaron). Love to you all, I hope none of you ever have to go through a situation like the one below <3
---
The weight in your stomach was beginning to ache now. Your mind was playing the events of the past few days over and over but you couldn’t work it out. You’d found him, you should be fine, and yet there was something still bothering you.
There was no way the BAU ever would have taken this case were it not for the connection you had to it, there was no point kidding yourself about that. It was on Tuesday morning that you had practically run through the bullpen towards Hotch’s office, ignoring the concerned voices of the members of your team and not bothering to knock as you burst in on him.
“It’s my brother,” you said, out of breath, clutching the door with a painfully tight grip as your chest heaved and Hotch stood from his desk. His face would have seemed as stoic as usual to most people, but you could see the worried lines around his eyes better than most people, “Someone’s taken him, I don’t know who, but they want money quickly and my mother won’t give them the money and-”
“Y/N,” he quieted you with his soft utterance of your name, and you gasped in for breath that you didn’t have. There were tears in your eyes, but you wouldn’t let them fall, “We’ll get everyone in the conference room, okay? Tell us all at once.”
You nodded, pressing your lips together and wiping a shaky hand down your face. He didn’t question you. Didn’t question taking the case. You had hardly told him anything and he was dropping whatever the hell he had been doing, and even in your haze of fear you couldn’t appreciate him more.
“Thanks, Hotch,” you said quietly, and he simply nodded at you, resting a warm hand on your shoulder briefly as he passed you to gather the team together. Not five minutes later were you telling the team everything, from the rich parents you’d never previously mentioned to your brother’s disappearance, showing them a picture of the ransom note that had showed up on your mother’s doorstep that morning. Not thirty minutes later were you on a plane to your hometown, sat next to Hotch on the seat of four and listening to him and the team bouncing theories around.
It had taken three days to find him.
Three days of you being worried to the point of sickness. You’d thrown up multiple times. JJ had been there the first time, swiftly following you into the bathroom after the toe showed up in the mail. She held your hair back as you emptied your lunch into the toilet, your tears simultaneously streaming into the bowl. But the second time was after your mother refused for the fourth time to pay the ransom to save your brother. You only made it to a bin in an empty room in the police precinct, but Hotch was right behind you, rubbing your back with a firm hand.
You only found him in the end due to a connection Spencer made between the original ransom note and the note that came with the toe, an inconsistency that led Garcia to a name and you to an address. It all fell into place quickly, like it often did, and soon the two culprits were in cuffs, your brother was sent off in an ambulance and the case was closed with no lives lost. It should have been a good day.
But still, now, as you sat in the front seat as Hotch drove you to the hospital your brother had been taken to, your stomach was swirling with doubt and anxiety and you knew exactly why.
“You don’t look too happy,” he commented in a low voice, even though there was no one else in the SUV except for the two of you. As soon as your brother was taken away in the ambulance, your mother jumped in beside him and you were left on the pavement, before Hotch placed a hand on your back and jingled the keys beside you, spurring you into action, “Your brother will be fine, Y/N, they’re only taking him as a precaution.”
“Oh no, I know,” you said flippantly, turning to Hotch even though he kept his eyes on the road, “He’s a strong guy, he’ll take this in stride. There’s just something...else.”
You wondered whether you should tell him. It was a thought you dismissed as soon as it came. You and Hotch were close, closer than anyone else really realised, and if you told him there was no telling what he might want to do about it. There was nothing to be done, though, and so there was nothing to be said either.
“What is it?”
“I just-” you figured out your lie, needing it to be half-true so he wouldn’t see through it, “I don’t think it’s sunk in yet that he’s safe.”
He nodded, but didn’t say anything. It was a sign that he knew you were lying, that he was waiting for you to crack and tell him the truth. A trick he’d learned from you, actually. Sometimes, you stayed late with him to help him out with paperwork, try to get him home a little sooner and you talked. You talked a lot. And whenever you’d ask him how he was, or whether something was bothering him and he would lie you would nod and go silent, waiting for him to speak again and inevitably reveal the truth.
It wouldn’t work on you this time. Instead, the rest of the drive passed in a slightly uncomfortable silence and when you got out of the car, the two of you headed into the hospital without words. Guilt poked at your heart but you pushed it away as you were given directions to your brother’s room and took purposeful steps in that direction.
Just as you reached the door, you pushed open the door to join him, your mother and the nurse that was checking him over.
“Hey little-”
“Y/N!” your mother cried, rushing over to hurry you out of the room again and you caught a glimpse of your brother’s apologetic glance before she was shutting the door in your face, “Can we have a word?”
The weight in your stomach was getting heavier by the second.
“I’d really like to see my brother and check he’s okay,” you said, tone clipped and formal. You felt Hotch’s presence a little way behind you, watched your mother’s eyes flick between you and him with disdain.
“And I would really like a word with you,” she said, her voice different to how it had been. She had an audience now, you thought silently, and fought the urge to roll your eyes, “If you wouldn’t mind talking to your mother.”
She was trying to make you look bad and you knew it. You tried not to, but you could feel your embarrassment rising despite yourself. There was nothing to be embarrassed about and you knew it, but having Hotch there watching your mother talk to you like this, no doubt profiling you both made heat creep up the back of your neck.
“Then let’s find somewhere private-” you attempted but she cut you off.
“No, we talk here.”
It had been her favourite method of doing things when you were younger too. As soon as your dad died, she began subtly belittling you in the house. Blaming you for his death was the only way she seemed to move forward, even though you quickly accepted that just because you had been in the car when he died didn’t make you at all responsible.
But it was when you went out with her that she truly came into her own, having the free reign to humiliate you as publicly as possible, making sure that other people heard it. You hadn’t seen her in a few years. You’d forgotten how difficult it was, even now, to avoid reverting back into that childlike state when she looked at you like that.
“Mother-”
“Again. Again, someone has hurt our family and again, you are the one responsible. Do you enjoying seeing me suffer? Is that was this is, Y/N?”
You stared at your feet and set your jaw. It was difficult to know whether to shout at her, laugh in her face, or start sobbing on the ground. You’d tried all three before. Nothing worked. And now - oh god - and now the whole team had rushed into the hospital to check on you and your brother and you turned your head a little to see Hotch hold up a hand to stop them from saying anything behind him. You bit your lip. The taste of copper filled your mouth with a welcome, distracting bitterness.
“How could this possibly be my fault?” you asked incredulously, looking up and meeting her gaze with all the anger you held towards her for so much of your life, all the resentment. You hoped none of the fear shone through alongside it. Apparently, your rage meant nothing, as she simply laughed, the hollow sound a haunting nostalgic tune.
“You’re meant to be a fucking FBI agent, and yet your brother has come home without two of his toes and one of his fingers,” she said, still laughing, shaking her head in disbelief at you, “You couldn’t find him in time.”
You were seething.
“If we hadn’t found him in time, he’d be dead. Things don’t always end this well, mother. He’s lucky,” you ground out and she reared back, stung.
“Lucky? Are you out of your fucking mind?”
“Mrs Y/L/N-” Hotch began, and you heard him take a small step forward behind you. You winced. You knew what was coming.
“Oh, Agent Hotchner,” she said, her tone sweet again and you felt your stomach churn. You were beginning to feel lightheaded. Your serial killer catching team were right there and you were being scolded by your mother. Don’t cry, you pleaded with yourself, “You must be so tired of dealing with my daughter and her lack of empathy. Thinking that her own brother is lucky when he’s been severely deformed, I mean, the lack of-”
“Severely deformed?” you said, chest heaving as you stared her down, “Sam is fine. He will be fine. He is not deformed. All thanks to me and my team. My amazing team, who do not want to see any of this so can we please-”
Part of you was hoping that maybe some of them would take your hint and leave, just so you wouldn’t embarrass yourself in front of your colleagues anymore, just so you wouldn’t have to handle them losing all their respect for you. But there were no footsteps.
“We’re not going anywhere. You’re not seeing your brother. I won’t let you hurt him more than you already have-”
“I have never hurt Sam in my life-”
“You know you’ve hurt him more than anyon-”
“For fuck’s sake, mother, I didn’t kill dad!”
She slapped you. Actually slapped you right across the face and your head whipped to the side. She’d never done that before. Perhaps she’d never had the heart when you were younger, or maybe you’d never actually said the words before, you didn’t know. You clutched your cheek as you kept your eyes downward and felt the tears staining your cheeks. Fuck.
You were already planning your resignation from the BAU in the stunned silence of the corridor.
JJ was first to run forward, putting an arm around you.
“Are you okay?” she murmured in your ear and you simply nodded, shrugging her away from you a little in your embarrassment.
“Don’t you ever mention your father to me,” she said, her voice dangerous, but you still hadn’t looked up, couldn’t fathom giving her the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You wanted to scream at her, slap her right back, maybe slam her against the wall but you knew none of it would help. You hardly had any dignity left as it was.
“You know what, Mrs Y/L/N,” Dave spoke up into the silence and you closed your eyes, hoping he wouldn’t say anything too bad, “I was wondering why you wouldn’t pay the ransom. I thought maybe it was the principle, or perhaps you were worried they’d just ask for more. But, I get it now.”
“Yeah, me too, Rossi,” Derek chimed in, “Now it’s easy to understand. Your kids simply aren’t worth anything to you.”
“Excuse me?” your mother’s voice was higher in pitch and part of you was worried she might slap them, but you knew she didn’t have it in her. JJ was still hovering behind you.
“You have two wonderful children, Mrs Y/L/N,” Emily continued, “Sam’s a doctor, the perfect child and yet the only value he has to you is in the bragging rights he provides.”
“And Y/N? She’s one of the best agents in the bureau. She cares about people-” Spencer’s voice cracked and you blinked out a fresh wave of tears, “-she cares so much. She’s one of the best people I’ve ever met. If you can’t see that, then it’s your loss.”
You finally stood up straight and looked to your team with eyes full of shame. Your cheek was no doubt a different colour to the rest of your face, tear stains galore, eyes puffy. No moment was worse, than seeing them all staring at you with pity in their eyes, and yet the warmth you felt radiating from them was stronger than any feeling you’d ever had from your family. This was your family, after all. Your real family.
“Y/N’s one of the best people I’ve ever met too.”
“Same here.”
“Me too.”
Came the replies from your team. You let out a shaky exhale as you stared at them. Thanking them and apologising to them all at once with just the look in your eyes. Your mother was still silent, clearly shocked that anyone could possibly care about you like this, let alone a whole group of people.
“She’s the best person I’ve ever met,” Hotch spoke up and when your eyes snapped to his, you didn’t see pity. You saw that fiery anger that he usually reserved for the lowest of the low. And yet now, he was staring at your mother with that stare that made killers recoil in their seats. She looked horrified, “And she’s going in that room to see her brother. You will go outside and wait until we’ve left. Then, and only then, can you come back inside this building.”
“But-”
“That’s an order from a federal agent, Mrs Y/L/N,” his voice was hard and unfaltering and you saw his hands clenched at his sides, longed to prise them open and slip your fingers in between his, “Rest assured that if I ever hear you speak to Y/N like that again, I will make your life a living hell. You’re a lawyer, right? I pull some strings, and you’ll be out of a job before you can blink.”
“She’s my daughter and I will-”
“Go outside.”
You surprised yourself when you spoke up. But the anger that boiled inside you had bubbled to the surface and now, there was no stopping you. Your team were behind you, literally, figuratively, in every way possible. It was enough. You weren’t a child anymore.
“Y/N-”
“I said, go outside. I don’t want to see you again, are we clear? We’re done,” when she just stood there dumbfounded, you pointed towards the exit and took a step towards her, your heart leaping when she took a step backwards, “Leave.”
And just like that, she left. She had to walk past every member of your team on her way and they refused to move out of her way, so she had to squeeze past each and every one, mumbling to herself the entire time.
She was gone and silence enveloped the little corridor to the private room yet again.
“And don’t come back,” Dave muttered, causing you to finally crack a smile in his direction, which in turn made him smile, and the rest of the team, even though they were hesitant. You wanted to say thank you, but you weren’t sure you had the words. You were so damn tired.
“Hey,” JJ spoke up beside you, a hand on your shoulder, “Go see your brother. You want to stay for a while? We can hold the jet.”
You shook your head.
“I’ll see him quickly,” you said, “I just want to go home.”
Everyone smiled again, more sympathetically and Hotch spoke up, his voice back to his normal voice around you. It was your favourite version of him. Soft.
“We’ll be right here when you’re ready.”
You nodded gratefully, turning and heading into the room without another word, because you didn’t have anymore. You just said a quick hello to your brother, gave him a tight hug. You’d never been close, the torment you’d been put through by your mother he had been immune from and it had put a rift between you. You’d never understand each other. But he was your brother, and you loved him all the same, so you wished him well and told him to call more often. When you left the room, true to their word, the team were still there and led you out of the hospital to the SUVs, shielding you with their bodies from your mother outside. You didn’t even see her.
There was no talking in the SUV. Hotch drove, Derek in the front beside him and you sat in the back with JJ. She insisted. Halfway to the jet, she reached over and grabbed your hand, not even looking over at you and you squeezed it gently. You were grateful for the grounding touch.
It was only back on the jet that someone spoke up. Hotch was busy in the kitchen. But everyone else was sat around. You were sat beside Spencer at the table, with JJ and Rossi opposite. Derek was sat on the couch nearby and Emily perched on an arm rest just so she wasn’t sat too far from you.
“When did it start, Y/N?” Derek asked once the plane had been in the air for a while, earning some sharp looks from JJ and Emily but you waved them away.
“It’s okay, guys, it’s not like I can hide it now,” you said, having calmed down significantly on the drive to the jet, JJ’s touch and the hum of the engine comfort enough to decrease your heart rate, bring you back to earth. Your shame was still there, but you had tucked it away for later. Right now, you wanted to salvage as much of yourself as you could, “As you guys know, my dad was killed in a crash when I was 12. But what you don’t know, is that I was in the car and that my mother blamed me for it. She made everyday after a living hell. I moved out as soon as I could and never looked back. I’ve not seen her much since, just family events and such, but she’s always the same.”
They all had varying looks of anger and sadness. Spencer asked the question on everyone’s minds.
“Has she ever…?”
You didn’t make him finish, because you knew the words would be difficult for him.
“Hurt me before? No, she hasn’t. I don’t know what was different this time,” you shrugged, subconsciously reaching up to gently touch your cheek, “I don’t think I’ve ever said outright that I didn’t kill him before.”
“But you know you didn’t, right?” Emily asked without thinking and you smiled at her.
“I’ve always known that,” you said honestly, “It would have been so much worse if I’d believed her, but I always knew she was wrong.”
Hotch emerged from the kitchen with an ice pack and you smiled at him a little, relaxing when he offered a small smile in return. You expected him to hand it to you, but to your surprise he sat on your armrest right next to you, your arm pressed against his side. He brushed your hair away from your face with gentle fingers and placed the icepack on your cheek, apologising under his breath when you winced from the cold sting.
“That’s what you were worried about in the car then,” he mused aloud, gaining the attention of everyone on the plane, “You knew what was coming.”
“Somehow, I did,” you grimaced, looking up at him, “And I’m sorry you had to see it,” you looked around at everyone, “I’m sorry you all had to see it. It’s so embarrassing and degrading and...well I understand that your perception of me must have changed but I assure you-”
“Woah, woah,” Derek interrupted, “The only way my perception of you has changed, honey, is that you’re stronger than any of us knew.”
When you looked at everyone else around the plane, they were in agreement with Derek, it was clear. You felt yourself welling up again, and cursed your weakness.
“I can’t thank you guys enough for what you said about me,” you began, voice shaky, “It just...it means a lot. I’ve never had a real family before.”
“Well, now you do,” Dave said simply, watching you with those kind eyes of his. You nodded with a smile before Spencer produced a blanket from behind you, offering it up to you if you wanted to sleep. You accepted gratefully, laughing a little when Spencer and Hotch on either side of you helped to tuck it around you snugly. Your laugh was a sign to the team that they could relax. That you’d be fine. As you fell asleep, you felt Hotch lean into you a little more, still holding the icepack on your face, and the knowledge he was there was enough to lull you into slumber.
---
Spencer woke you gently and told you that you’d landed. There was no one left on the plane, but you’d trapped him into the window seat. He waved you off when you apologised.
“You’re really important to us, Y/N,” he said, letting a few walls down now that everyone else had gone. You knew it must’ve been hard for him to hear her say those things to you. You’d talked about childhood bullying before, helped him to work through his own without telling him your experience. He’d probably feel guilty that he hadn’t known, but you pulled him into a rare hug.
“You’re important to me too, Spence,” you said, knowing that he’d really meant it personally. You felt his smile against your shoulder and grinned at him sleepily when you pulled away, both of you making your way off the jet. You walked into the office and shared compulsory hugs with the rest of the team, including Dave who you didn’t think you’d ever hugged before. When the hugging was over and people began to make their way home, you looked up at his office.
Hotch.
He was leaning against his desk. Not working. You knew he was waiting for you, so you hopped up the steps and let yourself in without knocking, letting the door close behind you with a soft click.
As soon as the door was closed, his shoulders fell and his posture became hunched.
“Hearing her talk to you like that…”
He trailed off and your heart melted. You walked towards him and rested your hands tentatively on his biceps, feeling the muscles relax at your touch.
“Hotch,” you breathed, “We’re home now.”
“But I didn’t do anything,” he said, eyes flashing upwards to meet yours and that anger seemed to be back, but it was directed inward, “She was saying all this crap about you and I didn’t even do anything, I didn’t want to intrude but then she- she slapped you, Y/N.”
He was talking in facts, a trick he used to take the emotion out of situations in which he got too emotional. You recognised it in an instant. The small protective edge he had for you was one that you shared for him, so you noticed these things. Made a habit of it.
“I know,” you said, nodding, “But that icepack did the trick in bringing the swelling down- look.”
You reached down and grabbed his hand, bringing it up to rest on your face. You knew it wouldn’t hurt. His touch was so hesitant around you, always worried to overstep a mark that you wanted him to leap over. Now, seeing him care about you made you bolder than you had been with him in the years you’d loved him.
You’d realised you loved him, actually, really loved him about two years ago. It had been three for him. Two beings hopelessly devoted to one another, yet kept apart by paralysing fear. You were kind of over it.
You leaned into his hand, but he was the one who closed his eyes and relished in the touch.
“You took care of me,” you whispered into the relative darkness of his office, lit only by the soft glow of the overhead lamp, “See?”
He shook his head with a gulp.
“Shouldn’t have let it happen in the first place.”
“What could you have done?” you asked, smiling, “Slapped my mother first?”
He cracked a smile at that and his chuckles joined your own giggles in a few seconds.
“I wouldn’t have done that,” he insisted and brought his other hand up to cup your other cheek in an act of boldness spurred on by your own. Perhaps he was tired of not just being with you too. God, you hoped so, “You looked so...ashamed afterwards and you had nothing to be ashamed about. All I- all I wanted to do was take you in my arms and take you away from there.”
He’d never spoken like this before. You basked in his words, enjoying the pleasant tingling that had erupted down your spine. You were feeling lightheaded again, but this time you wouldn’t have had it any other way.
“A nice thought,” you hummed, “I think I could get used to being in your arms.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah, I think so,” you were breathless as you leaned closer to him, because now you’d had some of him it would never be enough. You needed it all. You needed every bit of him, because now you knew it could be yours if he said it. You needed him to say it.
“You wanna know something?”
“I really, really do.”
You were getting closer with every word. Breathier with every passing second.
“I’ve loved you for years,” his lips brushed against yours as he whispered the key to his soul, “And nothing hurts me more than seeing you in pain.”
You closed your eyes and brushed your lips against his again, fleeting, a promise.
“I’ve never loved anyone like I love you,” you gave him your soul in return, because it was the fair thing to do, after all.
He pressed his lips against yours properly, for the first time. All at once, the world tilted and you had found a new course for the future, one where you hoped Hotch - Aaron, as you moaned when he began a path of kisses along your jaw - would keep kissing you like this for a lifetime.
908 notes · View notes
machi-kun · 4 years ago
Text
syrup
Tony is a playboy, and he’s good at it. He never leaves a partner unsatisfied, he never leaves a phone number – and he always leaves before breakfast.
And then there’s this one guy. Steve.
In the morning after, making pancakes before Tony can escape.
This is a fill for the 2020 Stony Bingo, Round 2! Square S-1: pancakes ;)
Read it on AO3 | Morning After, Awkwardness, Fluff | Rated T
****
“Hey.” Steve says, smiling. “Good morning.”
Tony, fully dressed and expertly sneaking out, stops before he can even close the bedroom door, head turning so quickly in the direction of the kitchen he almost pulls a muscle.
He looks to the side, where he remembers seeing a clock – yep, there it is, and it says 6:11 AM on it, which is unholy and vile, an hour no one should be awake at, much less a Saturday, and yet, here is his one-night-stand, by the stove, making breakfast.
Tony thought he was in the bathroom. He even left a note. The door was closed, and he thought he heard water running – fuck, it’s raining out, isn’t it?
Not that it matters now that he’s already been busted, but still.
It’s gonna be even more awkward now, waiting for a cab.
“Yeah, uh. Morning.” Tony replies, after a weird, awkward attempt to clear his throat. It feels horribly sore, and he’s not sure if it’s from the noises or the other thing, but it’s probably both. A glass of water might help with that, but coffee is always a distracting temptation. “You’re up early.”
Which is an understatement. But what other way can Tony convey the feeling of why are you not conveniently unconscious so I can leave without sounding like a complete asshole?
“So are you.” Steve – and even if Tony wanted to forget his name he couldn’t, because he said it a lot last night, and Steve is still smiling, friendly, cute, and a little smug, like he somehow knows what Tony’s thinking. “I’ve always been an early riser. Usually I would be going for a run right now, but I didn’t want to leave you here by yourself.”
Maybe this would have been easier if he had.
“Thanks.” Tony rasps, walking a little closer but not sitting down anywhere, still holding his shoes, looking as out of place as an elephant in a rose field. Steve places the coffee pot back in the counter, close to Tony’s reach, next to a cute, yellow mug, with a tiny picture of a cat on it. It’s empty, and Tony really wishes it wasn’t but he’s too unsettled to reach out and actually fill it for himself.
The silence stretches, only low crinkles of plastic and the muffled sound of traffic and – there it is, rain, coming from outside the small window in Steve’s tiny, modest kitchen – act as the soundtrack for the world’s most suffocating breakfast ever.
“I made pancakes.” Steve says, after an unbearably long time, turning around with a plate full of blueberry pancakes, dammit, Tony’s favorites.
Did he tell him that last night? He can’t remember. He might have.
Usually Tony wouldn’t have a problem with this, even if his partner for the night happened to catch him while he snuck out. This is not his first time. It’s not even his fifth, or his tenth. He’s had this encounter before, and to be fair, this is proving to be quite amicable compared to other possible reactions he’s experienced in the past; Far preferable to being attacked with shoes, no doubt, but it still feels way worse than all the other times.
Maybe it’s just because Steve isn’t his usual partner. There were no pulsing lights or thrumming bass or sweet drinks to set the mood, no darkness to disguise the truth in the flirty banter – the bar had been awful, and Tony left not even forty minutes after arriving, once he spotted Sunset Bain far too close to his own booth for his comfort. Steve was not there. No.
Steve was at the small, quaint little diner Tony found a couple blocks away after walking around aimlessly, tending to the costumers with far too much energy for the late hour, and he had coffee and snacks, and Tony never even hesitated.
Makes sense Tony would tell him about the pancakes. Tony has no idea what else he told Steve – he sat down, Steve looked at him, and he had no idea what had happened next. It had been almost closing hours, Tony gathered by the almost empty café, but he and Steve seemed to be talking for hours. But it couldn’t have been that long, considering they still came back here, and it’s barely six now. How – What the hell happened? How did a simple stop by a diner turned into a freaking date, and then into sleeping together, so quickly, and he hadn’t even noticed?
And Steve had been so – so nice. Gorgeous, of course he’s gorgeous, but more than that; He smelled like orange and vanilla, from the pastries, he said, ah, that’s when Tony complained about the lack of blueberries. He remembers now.
“Too much?” Steve chuckles, interrupting his thoughts, and it’s got a shaky, uncertain tone to it, and it immediately turns Tony into an anxious, fumbling, not suave at all mess.
“No, it’s—” He coughs. “It’s fine.”
Steve’s eyes narrow just a bit, and something teasing pulls at the edge of his smile, almost malicious. “That’s a little hard to believe, considering you were going to sneak out on me.”
“That’s – uh – hm.” He forces out a laugh. “It’s not personal, don’t worry. I just— I had a great night, don’t worry—”
“Oh, I’m not worried.” Steve’s eyes shine again with that spark of mirth, and Tony, running on barely any sleep and a rush of endorphins that has yet to go away with how thoroughly they got it on when they finally made it to bed, has to shamefully admit that he goes a little hot at the sight. “I get it. Morning after, it’s awkward. Haven’t done this much, so I thought maybe the way to make it less awkward would be breakfast?”
“That’s really nice of you.” Tony comments, and he completely means it. “Nicer than sneaking out, I guess.”
“Both have their benefits, I think.” Steve sways his head from side to side, trying to be placating. “Well. I’ve made them. You can have some if you like, but if you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”
See what he means? Nice. Steve’s nice.
Not everyone would react this well. This calm.
“What would be more awkward, if I stayed, or if I left?”
Steve unexpectedly laughs. “I don’t know. Is this your first time getting caught?”
“First time sober – well, not hangover, at least.” Tony admits, and he’s pleasantly surprised there’s no judgment, no derision in Steve’s tone when he assumes, correctly, that Tony is an experienced runaway after one-night-stands. He’s just amused, like it’s ridiculous, and it is. It is ridiculous that they’re both so embarrassed now, when they were both fully sober and fully consenting to go home together last night.
And it can’t be because of the sex, because it had been fantastic.
So maybe it’s really just because this is… new. In some ways. New for Steve, as far as hook-ups go, and new for Tony as far as incredibly sweet partners go.
He doesn’t know what to do.
He could leave.
But—
Should he?
Does he want to?
“Well, I did have a great night, Tony. Thanks.” Steve looks down for a second, sheepish, as if he’s not sure if he should be thanking someone for sex, or for… whatever it was that happened between them last night, this weird pull that’s keeping Tony frozen in the spot and not sending him bolting through the door at the first chance he gets. “Maybe I won’t see you again, but at least I want you to know how much I enjoyed it.”
“You don’t have to thank me.” Tony tells him.
“After last night?” Steve looks up at him from beneath his long, beautiful lashes, and Tony is caught so off guard he feels his face heating up and hopes Steve can’t see it. “I kinda think I do.”
“You repaid the favor quite nicely, mister” Tony flirts back, before he can think twice about it, feeling inexplicably amused by the sudden turn in Steve’s behavior – awkward, but still flirty? That’s… good. Very good, actually. It feels a bit like an invitation, like Steve’s trying to figure out if he can get Tony to give up on leaving if he can seduce him back into bed. Tony doesn’t know why that doesn’t make him want to run. It usually would.
But Steve made him blueberry pancakes.
Steve’s nice. Steve’s… different.
Tony doesn’t want to leave before he can figure out how.
“Well… I could have some breakfast.” Tony decides.
Steve’s smile is adorable, soft and sweet at the edges, just like the pastry he’d given Tony last night, just like his kisses – and Tony wonders if it would be just as sweet in the morning.
“And then later, I could have your number?” Steve asks, bold, and the shock of it is softened by the sweet smell of pancakes, the richness of the coffee Steve pours into the little cat mug, the sound of rain falling outside, the almost painfully domestic atmosphere of this cute kitchen in a lazy Saturday morning.
Steve sits across from him, fork in hand, decided to share the meal it seems – and Tony remembers last night, when both of them shared the last slice of the key lime pie the diner had for sale, leaning over the counter to be closer, like teenagers in love sharing sips from a milkshake, talking about motorcycles of all things, and he doesn’t know how something so simple can be so endearing, but it is.
Tony’s stomach does a flip, and just for now, he pretends it’s from hunger.
“Yes, Steve.�� Tony rolls his eyes, smiling so wide his cheeks hurt. “As soon as we’re done with breakfast.”
Pancakes now.
Maybe that’ll make Steve’s mouth taste even sweeter later.
165 notes · View notes
bxcketbarnes · 4 years ago
Text
Make You Mine (High School AU)
Tumblr media
Pairing: Ashton Irwin/Reader
Words: 6000+
Author's Note: It's finally finished! After quite a while. I hope you like this as much as I do. 🥺
The bell rings, and everyone in the classroom begins to gather their things, the sounds of chairs dragging across the floor hurts your ears a bit. You shove your books into your bag before standing up, making your way out into the hallway.
You glance around, seeing everyone meeting up with their friends, and you frown a bit. You wish you had friends that wanted to be seen with you in public. Shit went down when you first moved here that practically made you a loner and sometimes you wish you could just start over again.
"Hey, loser, get out of the way," the popular girl, Rosie, yells before shoving you into the lockers.
You wince as you slam into the metal lockers, your head bouncing off of it slightly. You swallow thickly, not saying anything as you continue your way towards the exit.
Ashton watches from afar, his lips parting in surprise as no one stepped in to help you… or defend you. His eyes follow you as you walk past him, keeping your head down as you cling your bag to your chest.
"Ash?" Jasmine calls out, and the brunette snaps his head towards his black-haired friend who rocked purple tips. "You coming?"
He nods his head, turning his head back towards you once more before following his friends.
You make it outside and take a deep breath in, always love the smell of fresh air. "God, I hate it here," you mumble to yourself and head towards the table you regularly sit at.
Ashton, Calum, Michael, Jasmine, and Luke walk outside with their lunches, and they all sit at one of the ten tables that's out there. "So… did no one see what Rosie did to Y/N?" Ashton brings up, Jaz's head snapping towards him.
"What?! What'd she do?" She asks immediately as her brown eyes glare towards the strawberry blonde.
"She roughly pushed her into the lockers, claiming she was in the way," he explains as his hazel eyes find your figure sitting at the farthest table.
Jaz scoffs and pushes some of her hair out of her face. "Of course she did. She's never liked her," she sighs, and Calum speaks up.
"Who cares? She keeps to herself. She kind of asked for being a target." The black-haired girl glares at her friend before punching his arm, really hard, and the brunette lets out a groan. "Fuck, Jaz! What the hell?!"
"Don't be a fucking dick! Who cares if she keeps to herself. That doesn't mean she should get bullied," she explains with an eye roll before getting up from the table.
Ashton's eyes widen a bit as Jaz starts to walk over to you. "Jaz, what are you doing?" He calls out and glances towards his other friends.
She looks over her shoulder with a smirk on her lips. "I'm gonna bring her over here, duh," she says before she becomes out of earshot.
You're finishing the math homework that's due tomorrow when a shadow blocks the sun. You lift your head to see Jasmine standing in front of you, hands clasped together.
"Hey," she smiles, and you return it, looking at her curiously.
"Hi…? What's going on?" You ask quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
Jaz grabs your bag, and you quickly reach out to stop her. "Come on," she states and motions her head towards the crowd of students. "I want you to sit with my friends and me. I've got one that really wants to meet you."
Your face heats up in embarrassment and you start to shake your head. "Jaz… I-I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine right here," you tell her and the girl lets out a sigh.
"Please? Just for today?" She slightly begs and doesn't let go of your bag. Your stomach churns with nerves, your eyes dancing between her and the sea of students.
"You guys don't want to be seen with me," you try to tell her and Jaz shakes her head. You swallow thickly as she doesn't let up, and you sigh hesitantly. "F-Fine, but just for today."
She grins, letting go of your bag and you pack your things away before standing up. You grip the straps tightly, feeling your hands becoming sweaty as the two of you get closer to her table.
You can feel other students stares while you walk past each table, keeping your gaze on the ground, so you don't make eye contact with anyone. You run into Jaz, not realizing that she has stopped walking and you quietly apologize.
"Y/N, these are my friends," she starts and points to Calum first. "This is Calum. You might know him from the soccer team."
You shake your head, not having a clue that he was on the soccer team and Jaz moves onto the next person.
"This is Luke," she points to the blonde and he gives you a wave and a smile. "He's in the choir."
You return his gesture with a small smile and wave as your eyes move onto the boy with lilac-colored hair.
"This is Michael. He and I created the video game club and are currently still mad that I'm president," Jaz introduces with a giggle and Michael scoffs, moving some of his hair from his face.
"Of course, you're the president. You're a pretty girl in a club with a bunch of gamers," he replies in a sarcastic tone and Jaz gives him a look, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Mhm, sure," she starts and looks down at the man, "keep telling yourself that. It's really because I'm a better gamer than you."
You watch the interaction between the two, really feeling the chemistry that's radiating off of them. You smile softly before moving your attention to the last man. Your breath hitches in your throat as his hazel eyes are already looking at you, and a smile comes to his lips.
"And finally, we have, Ashton!" She grins before leaning into you, whispering into your ear, "he's the one that really wanted to meet you." Your cheeks heat up at her words, feeling yourself becoming more nervous.
Jaz motions for you to sit down while she sits across from Michael and you hesitantly take a seat, still feeling Ashton's eyes on you. You glance up through your lashes while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. You go to lean your head on the palm of your hand when you wince, forgetting that a bruise is forming where your head slammed against the locker.
"How's your head?" Ash asks and you swallow thickly and shrug your shoulders.
"I-It's alright. I'm pretty sure I'll have a bruise, but I'm okay," you whisper while your gaze darts everywhere, avoiding making eye contact with him.
Ashton frowns as you don't seem affected by what happened. He runs a hand through his hair and glances towards his friends, seeing them all too deep in a conversation to know what's going on. "I… Is it okay to ask why Rosie does this to you?"
You fiddle with your fingers and let out a sigh. "Look, Ashton, I appreciate the concern or whatever, but I-," you start but get cut off by someone running into you.
"Oops," Rosie's voice calls out and you glance up, seeing her standing beside you with her little posse. "Making new friends I see?"
You shake your head, clearing your throat while scrambling to get up from the table. "N-No… I was just leaving," you stutter and begin to walk away when Rosie trips you, making your fall flat on your face.
Everyone around you starts to laugh as you can feel tears come to your eyes. You push yourself up and dust yourself off as Jaz stands up from the table.
"Hey, Rosie, how about you fuck off?" She growls, glaring at the popular girl and the strawberry blonde snickers.
"Nice to see you sticking with the loser still, Jaz. Be careful. She might steal your man," she states while her eyes glance towards Michael. The girl looks back towards you, giving you a disgusted look before walking away.
Jaz lets out a huff of breath, crossing her arms over her chest. "God, I fucking hate her," she states and Michael just looks confused as to what just happened. "C'mon, Y/N, sit back down."
You shake your head at her offer, seeing the pity look in her friends eyes as you begin to back away. "I told you, you guys wouldn't want to be seen with me," you mumble before walking away. You can hear Jaz calling out your name but you ignore it as you go and find the nearest bathroom to cry in.
-
Ever since the incident at the lunch table you've kept your distance from Jaz and her friends. You low-key wish you could be friends with them but you didn't want what happened to you, happen to them.
You fiddle with the hair tie on your wrist as the memories from when you first moved here floods into your mind.
You were kind of excited to attend a new school, hoping to finally make some friends who aren't fake bitches. You hike your bag over your shoulder as you exit your mother's SUV.
"I'll pick you up at 3, okay?" She says and you nod your head. You smile at her while waving as she drives away.
You take a deep breath and make your way towards the school doors, looking around to see everyone conversing. Some people glance your way, obviously wondering who you are since they've never seen you before. 
A gasp leaves your lips as you bump into someone, your hands reaching forward to stop yourself. The tall man turns around and you take a step back, beginning to mumble an apology to him.
"It's alright. Guess I shouldn't stand in the middle of the hallway," the blue-eyed man states with a chuckle.
"Yeah," you mumble quietly and look around to try and find a way to the office. "Hey, do you know where the main office is?"
The man twirls the football in his hands around while tilting his head to the side. "Uh, yeah. You're new here?" You nod your head in response and a smirk comes to his lips. "Ah, I knew it! Never seen a pretty girl like you around these parts before."
You furrow your eyebrows at his comment before clearing your throat, beginning to get uncomfortable. "Uh, thanks? I think. Can you just-"
"Grant!" A voice calls out and the football guy's eyes look at someone behind you. "Who the fuck is this?"
You glance over your shoulder to see a girl your height walking up to you, her strawberry blonde hair swaying with each step.
"She's new. I was gonna show her where the principal's office is," he states and drapes an arm over your shoulder.
Your fingers grip the straps of your bag, trying to move away from him as the girl in front of you scoffs. "Oh, really?! Like she doesn't know where the main office is," she snaps and you open your mouth to defend yourself when she cuts you off. "It's just a ploy to take you from me! Every girl does it."
"I-" you start but once again gets cut off by her slapping you. A gasp leaves your lips and Grant removes his arm from you.
"Rosie! Fucking hell. You can't go around and slap every girl I talk to," he rolls his eyes and walks away from the two of you.
You swallow thickly, your cheek stinging as Rosie steps closer to you. "Stay the fuck away from him," she seethes and you nod your head rapidly. The blonde looks you up and down one more time and mutters pathetic to herself before walking away.
"What the fuck just happened?" You ask yourself while continuing down the hall. "Guess I'll fucking find the office myself."
It wasn't long after that interaction when Rosie found you and Grant near the locker rooms. He was trying for weeks to try and get into your pants, and you weren't budging. You tried to defend yourself to her, telling her that he was the one that was trying shit but she wouldn't listen.
She's the reason you have no friends. No one wants to be friends with a girl who'll steal their boyfriend's… even though he was the one trying to get with you. The only girl who would talk to you is Jasmine.
Jaz's really cool. Quirky, funny, sarcastic. You enjoyed her company, but at the same time you don't want people to stop being friends with her just because she's seen with you. So you try to stay away as much as possible.
You walk into the library and make your way towards the tables in the back. You hear whispers amongst people as you walk by their tables, keeping your head down. You sit at the table in the back corner and let out a sigh.
A part of you wants to leave again, but your mom likes her new job and you can't take that away from her. She doesn't even know what happens at school. That you're a loner. Have no friends whatsoever.
You bite the inside of your cheek, keeping the tears in before getting out your schoolwork. You start with your math homework, wanting to get that done as quickly as possible so you didn't have to worry about it this weekend.
You're a quarter into the homework when someone sits down in front of you. Your heart beats quickly in your chest as you slowly look up, seeing Ashton sitting across from you. He smiles softly at you before getting out his work.
"W-What are you doing?" You ask him, glancing around the library to see a few groups of people looking at the two of you.
He cinches his eyebrows together, motioning towards his homework. "Doing homework? What else do you do in a library?" Ashton asks and you blink in surprise.
"I-I mean… why are you sitting with me?" You question quietly while tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Because you intrigue me, and I want to be friends," he answers and doesn't look up from his notebook. Your cheeks heat up at his words, covering one of your cheeks with your hand.
"O-Oh," you mutter quietly and your heart flutters in your chest. Your stomach drops as reality kicks in, knowing that Rosie will get to him if he's friends with you. "A-Ashton, I really appreciate you wanting to know me and all but…"
"I don't care what Rosie says," he mentions and you press your lips together. "I don't believe what she claims you to be."
You look at him with wide eyes as he smiles at you again, reaching out to rest his hand upon yours. Your breath hitches in your throat as your cheeks turn pink. "O-Okay," you whisper, a smile coming to your lips.
Ashton's cheeks also turn a bit pink and he pulls his hand away from yours. He goes back to doing his homework, your eyes never leaving him as you can't believe what just happened.
-
Ashton's eyes are staring in your direction as you sit under the big tree. A smile comes to his lips as he watches you. You're currently trying to keep all your papers from flying away in the wind, your hair hitting you in the face and you sigh in frustration.
He twirls a pen in his hand, his fingers tapping against the love letter he's currently writing. Jaz and the rest of his friends begin to sit down at the table, diverting Ashton's gaze towards them for a few seconds before looking back towards you.
"What are you staring at?" Michael asks while taking a bite of the pizza on his plate. The lilac-colored boy follows his gaze which lands on you. "You're staring at her again?"
Ashton snaps his head towards his friend, a blush on his cheeks. "What do you mean again?!" He asks and Michael gives him a look before glancing towards Jaz.
"What he means is that you stare at her a lot, which is okay! You like her, it's cute. But, it'd be more effective if you actually talked to her," she elaborates and Ash scoffs softly.
"I talk to her. We're friends," he states and Jaz raises an eyebrow. She taps her finger against the letter that sits on the picnic table.
"If you're just friends… what's this?" Jaz asks and Ashton blushes.
He picks up the paper as the rest of the boys glance at him. "It's nothing," Ashton mumbles and folds up the letter before stuffing it into his bag. "I've got a concert tomorrow night, so I'm gonna go practice."
The brunette picks up his stuff before heading back towards the school. You look up from your work at the same time Ash decides to glance at you and the two of your eyes meet. You blush a bit, smiling at him and he does the same. He gives you a small wave before walking into the school.
You still have a hard time believing that the two of you are labeled as friends. It's been about a month and a half since Ashton sat with you in the library.
"You think he'll have the balls to ask her out?" Michael asks Jaz and she glances towards the lilac-haired man.
"I wouldn't talk, Mike," Luke mentions and the gamer boy slaps the blonde's arm, giving him a look.
Jaz furrows her eyebrows together at the two boys before glancing back towards you. She frowns at the empty spot under the tree and she looks around to try and find you, but you're nowhere to be seen.
You're walking through the halls, heading towards your locker when a loud crash startles you. You jump, gripping your bag's straps while glancing down the hallway where the noise came from.
"Son of a bitch," a voice echoes off the walls afterward and you begin to make your way towards the room.
You peek around the doorway, seeing Ashton putting a drum set together. "Everything okay?" You ask in a whisper, wondering if you spoke loud enough for him to actually hear.
The brunette jumps and turns his head towards you, a look of relief on his face. "Fuck, Y/N, it's just you," he breathes and lets out a chuckle. "Yeah, everything's good. I guess people don't know how to put a drum set together."
You give him a small smile and walk into the room, taking a seat beside him. "You play the drums?" You ask him, your eyes meeting his.
Ashton's heart flutters as your eyes meet, a smile coming to his lips and he nods his head. "Y-Yeah, yeah. It's fun. A good stress reliever too," he tells you and you nod your head, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
"That's cool. Drums are cool," you mumble with a smile. You and Ashton sit in silence for a few moments before he grabs his bag.
You watch him as he opens it, rummaging through it before pulling out a folded piece of paper. "Here," Ash mentions with a blush on his cheeks. You blink at him a few times before grabbing the note. You furrow your eyebrows as you inspect it, twirling it in your fingers and begin to open it. "Wait, wait. Not here."
"Why?" You ask and Ashton scratches the back of his neck.
"I-I… just for the sake of my embarrassment," he awkwardly laughs and you let out a giggle of your own.
"Alright. I'll open it when I get home," you smile and Ashton nods his head. "I'll let you get back to whatever you were doing."
You stand up from the chair, gripping the note in your hand before placing it into your front pocket. "I'll see you later," the brunette grins and butterflies soar in your stomach. You give him a wave and leave the classroom, taking a deep breath when you're out of sight.
-
The final bell rings and you gather your stuff together before heading towards your locker. A few people bump into you on your way there and you quietly apologize to each person even though it's their fault.
You open your locker quickly, trading out books you'll need for the homework and stuff them into your bag. You grab the note Ashton gave you, fiddling with it in your hands when someone roughly bumps into you. A gasp leaves your lips and you fall into your locker a bit, holding your hand out to steady yourself.
"Oops," Rosie's sarcastic voice calls out and you huff, getting a bit annoyed by her antics. The note Ashton gave you falls from your hands and you quickly go to grab it when the strawberry blonde reaches it first. "Oh, what's this?!"
"Give it back," you demand and the girl raises an eyebrow.
"Oh, since when did you get a voice?" She asks and you reach for the folded piece of paper. Rosie moves her body away from yours, tsking. "Nuh-uh."
You try to stop her from opening it but her little goons stop you from getting close to her. "This isn't funny. Give it back to me," you state once more with narrow eyes.
Rosie opens the note and begins reading it to herself, a pity laugh coming from her lips. "O-Oh my fucking god this is gold!" Her blue eyes move to yours, a smirk on her lips. "Who knew Ashton had a thing for losers."
Your heart skips a beat at her words, your breath hitching in your throat. Ashton likes me? You think to yourself and your cheeks blush.
The popular girl notices your blush and lets out a devilish laugh. "Oh, don't tell me you like him too?" She teases and pouts her lips. "You really going to believe that he likes you? Please. Grant told him to do that."
"W-What?" You stutter, your heart dropping as she crumples up the note before tossing it at you. You swallow thickly as Rosie and her little group laughs, walking away from you.
You uncrumple the note, your eyes scanning over the words but not really taking it in. Tears come to your eyes as you fold it gently and place it into your bag.
"Y/N!" Jaz's voice calls out and you turn your head to see her and the rest of the group walking towards you.
Your chest clenches at the sight of Ash and you quickly look away before shutting your locker. You don't acknowledge them and you make your way towards the front of the school, needing to get away from everyone.
"Hey, hey, wait!" Jaz calls out once more and jogs up to you. She steps in front of you to stop you, but you just walk around her. "Y/N!?"
"Can you just stop?!" You ask, your chest heaving rapidly as you look her dead in the eye.
"What's going on?" Ashton asks while walking up to the two of you. You glance towards him, not being able to look at him for long before scoffing.
"You know… I thought you were different," you tell him and he looks down at you with a confused look on his face. "I really, really thought you'd be different."
You shake your head and start walking away again when it was Ashton's turn to stop you. "Wait, what do you mean? I… what did I do?" He asks you and you swallow the lump in your throat before pulling out his note.
"This stupid fucking note," you answer him and his hazel eyes glance towards the crumpled up paper, his heart pounding in his chest. "Rosie told me everything."
"This fuckin' bitch," Jaz mumbles and Michael rests a hand on her shoulder. "What'd she-"
"Jaz," Ashton cuts her off and glances towards the girl, giving her a look to let him handle this.
You anxiously tap your foot on the tile flooring as your eyes stay focused on Ashton. The brunette glances back towards you, his hands up slightly as he tries to think of the best way to handle this.
"What'd she tell you?"
You lick your lips, your fingers fiddling with the hair tie on your wrist. "She told me that Grant put you up to writing the note. That you don't actually like me," you tell him and bite the inside of your cheek, trying to keep it together.
Ashton shakes his head and sighs. "That's not true. She's just saying that to get in your head, Y/N," he explains and you cross your arms over your chest. "Plus, I don't even talk to Grant. Like, at all. Not once."
"Plus, we saw him writing it during lunch before he left," Luke chimed in and your eyes dart towards the blonde.
"Did you read it?" Ash asks and you clear your throat and shake your head.
"Not thoroughly," you mumble and the brunette reaches for your hand. A blush covers your cheeks as his long fingers lace with yours.
Your eyes flutter shut as the butterflies in your stomach are going crazy. Ashton squeezes your hand, the other one stroking your cheek. "I like you. I really, really like you. You intrigue me. You're funny, sweet, adorable, shy. Your personality is truly amazing. I… I want to be with you," he confesses and your breath hitches in your throat once more.
"R-Really?" You ask in a whisper and Ashton giggles softly, nodding his head in answer.
"Yeah, absolutely," he smiles and grabs a hold of your other hand. "If you want I-I could take you out for dinner tomorrow night?"
You take a step closer to him, removing your hands from his before wrapping your arms around his neck. "I'd like that," you whisper into his ear as Ashton holds you tightly. Awe's can be heard from behind you and the two of you chuckle softly before Jaz speaks up.
"Alright. Now that you're seeing each other I'm gonna fuck Rosie up," she states and marches towards the front doors. Michael curses softly and follows after her, not wanting her to get into any sort of trouble.
The rest of you follow suit, Ashton's hand intertwined with yours as you all made it outside. Rosie, Grant, and a few of their friends stand towards the other end of the school when Jaz yells to her.
"Ayo, bitch!"
The strawberry blonde glances in your direction and you can see her rolling her eyes. Jaz walks right up to her before clocking her in the face. Gasps leave some of the girls lips as Grant's eyes become wide.
"What the fuck!" Rosie screams and tries to attack Jaz. The black-haired girl swiftly moves out of the way before landing another hit on her.
"You think it's okay to just pick on everyone here, huh?! Does it fuel your fucking ego?! How's it feel to be belittled?!" Your friend screams while taking a chunk of Rosie's hair in her hands, pushing her back.
Michael runs up to the girl, wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her back. "Jaz, stop," he mumbles as she writhes in his arms.
"No, lemme at her! She deserves it. He does too!" She snarls and manages to get out of Mikey's hold. The feisty girl throws a punch at Grant, hitting him directly in the eye and he groans, bending over slightly.
"You bitch," he growls and takes a step towards her when Michael steps in front.
The lilac-haired boy pushes the jock, his green eyes glaring at him. "Yo, were you about to hit a girl?!"
The rest of you step forward and you lay a hand on Jaz's shoulder, pleading with her to stop. "C'mon, let's just get out of here," Ashton states and urges Michael to step away.
"Please," you add on and the two of them let out huffs of breath.
"I don't want you coming near us ever again," Jaz threatens Rosie and she scoffs. Your friend takes a step towards her, causing her to flinch back. "You hear me?!"
She rolls her eyes and nods her head. "Fine, yes. Jesus, just get the fuck away from us," Rosie states and the six of you walk away from the group.
Yours and Ash's hand brushes against each other's as you all walk towards their vehicles. A blush covers your cheeks as Ashton's pinky links with yours before lacing the rest of your fingers. You glance up at him to see him already smiling down at you, a blush tinting his cheeks. "You need a ride home?" He asks quietly and you hike your bag higher on your shoulder with your free hand.
"That'd be nice," you tell him and he nods his head, his hazel eyes glancing towards your intertwined hands.
"You should still read the note when you get home," he informs you and you giggle, nodding your head while resting your head against his shoulder. 
-
"So, how are things going with Ash?!" Jaz asks as the two of you walk down the hall. 
You couldn't help but blush while hugging your books closer to your chest. "It's going good. We hung out for most of spring break," you tell her with a smile and she squeals a bit.
"That's awesome, Y/N. You two are fucking adorable," she grins and you thank her quietly. "Have you guys kissed yet?"
"N-No," you stutter, looking towards her with wide eyes. Jaz gives you a baffled look and blinks a couple of times. "What?! I mean… should we have? We've only been together for a few weeks."
The black-haired girl runs a hand through her hair and lets out a huff of breath. "Well, I just assumed that he's kissed you goodbye after a date or greeted you with a kiss," she mentions and you gulp a bit, shaking your head. "It's probably nothing. He most likely wants it to be special or both of you are just too nervous to make a move."
The two of you split up as you head towards your math class, thinking about what she just said. Does he wanna kiss me? Your eyebrows are furrowed together when you bump into someone. A gasp leaves your lips and you glance up, getting ready to apologize when you notice Ashton standing in front of you.
"Ash, hey," you chuckle softly as his hands rest on your arms. "Sorry, I wasn't paying attention."
"It's okay. You looked deep in thought, pretty girl. What's going on up here?" He asks and taps your forehead softly.
Your heart flutters at his touch. You stay silent for a minute, internally figuring out how to answer his question. Ashton glides his fingertips down your face, a smile gracing his pink lips. "Just… just something Jaz said," you say vaguely and the boy raises an eyebrow in question.
"That's it? That's all I'm gonna get?" He asks and you laugh, shrugging your shoulders. "Does she talk about Mike all the time?"
"Eh, I would say fifty percent of the time," you answer and Ashton hums, nodding his head.
"Cause Mike talks about her all the fucking time. Like, we're happy that they're finally together but chill," he laughs and you join in.
"Let them be," you playfully smack his chest and Ashton grabs your hand, pulling you into him.
Your eyes widen a bit and your breath hitches in your throat as his forehead rests against yours. "You're coming to my concert tonight, right?" He asks and you nod your head, your fingers grabbing a hold of his.
"Wouldn't miss it," you inform him with a smile.
Ashton pulls away a bit and presses a kiss to your forehead. "Good. I can't wait for you to see my skills," he wiggles his eyebrows and you roll your eyes playfully.
"You've been bragging about these skills a lot, Ash," you giggle and he shrugs his shoulders.
"Well, you'll finally get to see them tonight. Shit, I gotta get to class. I'll see you later, babe," he rushes and presses a kiss to the corner of your mouth before running off.
You watch after him, still feeling his lips on your face. You smile softly and lift your hand up, your fingers grazing over the corner of your mouth. A blush covers your cheek as you realize he called you babe.
You squeeze the books in your hands, grinning ear to ear while letting out a deep breath before heading to your class. He's so amazing…
-
You fiddle with your fingers as you, Jaz, Mike, Cal, and Luke walk towards the school for Ashton's concert. You also decided that tonight's the night you're going to kiss him for the first time.
The hallway is crowded with people as they chat with their friends/child/etc. You look around, trying to find your curly brunette boyfriend. "Can you see him?" You ask Jaz, glancing towards the girl as she shakes her head. "You guys go ahead. I'm gonna check the band room."
They nod their heads and walk towards the auditorium while you make your way down to the band room. You take deep breaths as you get closer, hyping yourself up. The door opens up and Ashton walks through, your eyes widening at how good he looks.
"Hey! There you are," Ashton smiles and wraps his arms around you. You hug him back, a smile coming to your lips as you inhale his scent. Vanilla. "I'm glad you came to find me."
"I-I wanted to wish you luck before your concert," you tell him with a smile, glancing up at him. Now or never. You place your hands on his face before leaning on your toes, pressing your lips to his.
Ashton's eyes grow wide at the sudden action before they flutter close. His fingers glide through your hair, pulling your body closer to his as he kisses you back. You smile into the kiss, running your fingers through his hair.
He pulls away after a minute, resting his forehead against yours as your heart beats a mile a minute. "I-Wow," Ash whispers and nudges your nose with his. "What was that for?"
"I… remember when you asked me earlier what I was thinking about?" You ask and the brunette nods his head. "Well, Jaz asked me if we kissed yet and I said no, cause we haven't, and she was confused about why we haven't. So… I wanted to."
Ashton rubs his hands on your hips, a deep breath coming through his nose. "I know you're really shy and reserved so I didn't want to try and be rejected," he confesses and you frown a bit. "I was waiting until you were ready."
"God, you're so sweet," you chuckle softly and shake your head. Ashton tilts his head and presses your lips together once again, a hum coming from your lips.
"But now that you've done it, I'm not going to be able to stop," he mumbles against your lips and you shudder.
"Good. Don't," you whisper before placing a peck to his lips. "You should get going. The concert starts any minute."
Ashton nods his head, his hand coming up to your face and strokes your cheek. "I… I think I'm in love with you," he tells you, and your breath hitches in your throat.
You blush heavily, glancing towards the floor as a large smile graces your lips. "I think I'm in love with you too, Ash. Now, go kill it out there."
Ashton giggles and steals one last kiss from you. He gives you a cheeky wink before walking back through the band room's door. You giggle and bite your lip, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear before making your way back towards the auditorium to join your friends.
-
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