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auxiliarydetective · 11 months ago

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Ooooh good question. Honestly, I'm not really sure. There definitely would be some changes caused by the medium itself and their portrayal in it.

Luna, first of all, would have her magic looking completely different. I just can't stop imagining how freaking beautiful live action Luna would be with her gigantic white wings, flowing platinum blonde hair, blue glowing eyes... and her magic would be absolutely gorgeous! Shields that look like actual crystals, beams of light that look like, well, light! Lense flares, those halo thingies around street lights if your vision is a little screwy... She would be so stunning. Her relationship with Sanji would also be a little different because Sanji is different. In the anime/manga we have the goddess and her over-the-top lovestruck idiot husband, in the live action it would be the goddess and her golden retriever boyfriend, and that would be so freaking cute. I love them, your honor. I could also see her joining in on Zoro and Sanji's bickering in this version. In the manga? No way. She's not getting into physical fights. But throwing little backhanded insults into the mix is absolutely her style. They come when you least expect it and you never know which of the two it would be directed at.

Inari! Inari would be changed a LOT between the anime and the live action, simply because live action Inari with her three eyes might actually be creepy. So, she'd probably have her third eye covered more often than she has in the anime/manga. I'd imagine they'd probably use makeup to make her eyes look larger. Inari's character is also more or less reliant on the cartoony-ness of the manga in the way that I imagine her having lots of physical comedy and effects like stars, hearts, etc. and those just don't work in a live action. So, those parts of her character would probably be more subdued, but the main aspects of her personality would still be intact, some even be strengthened. Her talking about singing flowers and trees and whatnot is way funnier and more absurd in a live action than in an already whacky anime. Also, getting back to the aesthetics again: I would just love to see her devil fruit transforming her hair and eye color, her powers, and her fighting with her war fans in a live action medium. It would look so freaking amazing. Also, the live action might give you more of an idea of how young she actually is, something that One Piece's art style isn't too good at. I mean, just look at her twin Pudding, she does not look 16.

Oooooh hell yeah, Cora time. Cora would thrive in the anime, simply because her devil fruit powers would be so great to draw. Imagine a Disney/Studio Ghibli style sequence of her sewing a dress, it would be lovely. Or her fighting using one of her enhanced threads with cool drawn slow-mo shots. She'd also definitely be one of those characters that monologue in mid-air during a fight. Her trauma would be more subdued in the manga/anime. Oh, also, she gets the added bonus of getting to bonk people (aka mostly Zoro) on the head when they're being stupid. I love that manga trope for her. I can also definitely see her getting a variation of Hancock's running gag, as in she blushes a lot and is constantly seen head-over-heels for Zoro and Sanji but then acts like it's nothing - because this is the anime/manga, folks, there is no romance here. That's a lie, it's my canon, so there is romance, but I imagine it would be a little less obvious.

Felicity is another character who would greatly benefit from the anime/manga format because it would turn up the cuteness to 1000. Picture lots of stars, sparkles and hearts and whatnot, and the cutest tail/ears emoting ever. Also, you could do so many things with her devil fruit powers. Anime and manga sometimes have words written out across the screen, right? Like "gloom", "sparkle", you know what I mean. Yeah, that's a Lily thing. Overall, this is one of the few characters whose personality would actually be amplified by the media change because her emotions could be visualized and amplified so freaking much. Also, her incredible agility is something that doesn't work too well in a live action but works really well in an anime. Imagine her actually getting the zoomies across the ship. It would be great.

Finally, Aurelia, who actually HAS two versions. First of all, her story is a bit different between the live action and the anime/manga. I haven't fleshed out her story in the animanga just yet, but I imagine she maybe shows up at the finale of the Baratie arc to safe either Zeff or Sanji's life. Her role is generally kept a lot smaller there. In the live action, she's there earlier but still manages to miss Mihawk's fight against Zoro and then comes back to verbally kick Arlong's ass, actually semi-officially adopts the Straw Hats as her protegés and escorts them to the Conomi Islands with the explicit instructions to get Nami back and kick Arlong's ass for real - because Nami asked her for help in this iteration. She didn't even meet her in the animanga. Anyways, personality differences: Animanga!Aurelia is probably a lot more cool than OPLA!Aurelia, and I mean that in the "cold" sense. She's more similar to Mihawk here and seems to not care as much. Imagine a fusion between Hancock and Mihawk with some elements of Shakky thrown in there. OPLA!Aurelia is a lot warmer and motherly but no less terrifying, if not more terrifying because you have the actual contrast of her gently kissing Sanji on the head and giving him gifts versus her shooting Kuroobi and yelling at Arlong. Generally, I see OPLA!Aurelia as openly warmer because she shares more screentime with people she has grown attached to and cares for. Animanga!Aurelia also has that warmth, you just don't get to see it as often, so she appears colder. Also, OPLA!Aurelia would be confirmed trans whereas animanga!Aurelia probably would never get that far. And animanga!Aurelia's fanservice quota would be through the roof, but that's a given. She's the one characters where I forgive lots of fanservice though, maybe even encourage it, because she is the seductive type.

I love your brain, you're asking amazing questions!

Here’s a custom Q for you if you don’t mind! When you’re writing for your One Piece OC, do you tend to picture them most as Live Action, Anime, or Manga? Or perhaps a combination of the bunch?

If you tend to write/create them more geared towards one of the mediums, what might their adapted-to-another-medium alternate set look like?

Hi, thanks so much for your question! It seems I can answer asks normally on desktop, and I was thinking about this exact thing just now while working on my masterlist redux, so here we go:

It actually really depends on the OC! Both Luna and Inari were created when the Live Action wasn't even announced yet. They're also introduced in the story at a point that OPLA hasn't reached yet, so I never really thought a lot about how they would be presented in the Live Action when it came out. Cora and Lily were created specifically for the Live Action, so they don't even really have an anime-style counterpart. I haven't drawn one yet for either of them but I would love to some day. Aurelia, my newest darling, was originally supposed to be an anime girlie, but then I started imagining what part she might play in the live action, and now she exists in both worlds. Generally, when writing, I stick to the main canon of whichever media type I'm writing for, but I'll use the other version to fill in holes. For example, Cora's backstory is 100% based on late anime/manga events, and I wouldn't put it above myself to maybe sneak OPLA's earpiece den den mushi design into an anime/manga fic simply because it's cool and practical.

Anyways, when I picture my girls in my brain, here's what I see:

I view Luna as a sort of semi-realistic figure (because she wasn't a OP OC originally, it's a long story), somewhere between the anime's artstyle and, well, a normal human being. This is why it's incredibly hard for me to pick a potential faceclaim for her, because I have this set face in mind and nobody seems to really fit it perfectly. If I had to pick though, I'd probably go for either Joanna Vanderham, maybe Morfydd Clark, maybe potentially Samara Weaving. They all have details I don't 100% like and they would need to have way lighter hair, but they would work.

Inari I view as 100% anime style. It's hard for me to not see her as this cartoony anime girl with three huge blue eyes. But if I had to pick a faceclaim for her, my current pick would be Amanda Arcuri.

I'll skip over Cora and Lily here because I view them as their live action forms for obvious reasons, though Lily is still more cartoony in my brain simply because of her ears and tail. I definitely wanna draw both of them in anime/manga form one day!

Aurelia is a special case because she exists in both canons, but I see her as her live action variant most of the time. I don't 100% know why, maybe it's the leftover brainrot, maybe it's easier, but that's just how it works with me.

So, I hope this sorta answers your question! Thanks again for asking, and have a lovely day!

#one piece oc #opla oc #oc: aether s luna #oc: charlotte inari #oc: akaito coraline #oc: felicity #oc: dracule aurelia #ask #well not really but y'know

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multifandhoem · 4 years ago

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server collab || ii

Server Collab from the Haikyuu HQ server with the prompt: “Guess I‘ll just have to cum inside you.“

The masterlist for the whole collab is here!

Genre: fluff, smut

Warnings: slight SPOILER (it‘s really really small), smut obviously, little bit of public stuff if you count it as such, slight breeding kink, wedding sex, lot‘s of fluff

Word count: 3292

“I still remember when Iwa-chan told me, how he embarrassed himself in front of a cute girl and hoped he would never see her again to not relive the existential dread he felt at that moment. And then he told me he met her again and she laughed over the mishap and they were going to get coffee next week.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“I am so sorry.” His face was red, head bowed down in embarrassment, but you could still see it at the tip of his ears.

“It’s okay, it wasn’t like you were a stalker or something.” You were giggling a bit at the state he was in. “On top of that it is kinda my fault, I should’ve closed the curtains or something.” He slowly raised himself again, face still scrunched up in discomfort. He really looked like he was in horrendous pain and it was kinda your fault. “Please don’t beat yourself up over it. I’ll treat you to coffee, to make you feel better, when are you free?”

Maybe the fact that he was a looker made you act a bit more open towards him than usual, but you genuinely felt bad for him. He was obviously beating himself up over that accident a couple of days ago.

You had realised fast that you could look from your window right into the room on the other side of the street, which was why you invested in curtains pretty early. But apparently, you had forgotten to close them this time, so when you turned around shirtless and made eye contact with a man, you were both equally surprised. He looked mortified and you couldn’t even blink when he suddenly dropped to the floor, now hidden from your wide eyes.

Your body reacted, even though he probably couldn’t see you anymore, shielding your breasts with one arm, the other hastily closing the curtains. After the initial shock wore off you couldn’t help but giggle a bit. Why did he just drop to the floor? He could’ve turned around or something.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

Next to you, Hajime buried his face in his hands, but the large grin that had adorned his face for the whole evening was still there. Tooru waited a bit until the laughter calmed down until he continued.

“When I came back from Argentina for a visit she was already his girlfriend of five months. And when I saw Iwa-chan I knew that she would probably stick around for longer. You know, Iwa-chan is a very violent person-“ “Only towards shitty people!” You knew he couldn’t have let that jab just go by, but Tooru professionally ignored him.

“but with her, he was very soft, always touching her in some way. Sometimes touching too much. Don’t think we forgot the trip to the cabin!” He scoldingly wiggled his finger towards you, accompanied by Makki’s and Mattsun’s affirming but still scandalised shouts.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“We gotta be quick, Haji.” His lips were hot on your collarbones, fingers already dipping under your shirt, quickly pulling it over your head. “I know, they will wonder where we are.”

You had excused yourself for a second from the movie the others had put on. It was the first time this day where there weren’t two other people in the room with you, everybody being huddled in the living room of the small cabin where you resided for the weekend. With two bedrooms shared between the six of you and one big room that functioned as kitchen, living and dining room, there was never space for some alone time, which you were desperate to have after your boyfriend strutted around you shirtless the whole day. It should be illegal for someone as fine as he was to do such things.

Foreplay had to be postponed for the next time, you had little time until the others would grow suspicious. “No need, I can take you.”

You pulled his fingers out of your entrance, desperate to just feel his cock in you. He chuckled at your eagerness, pushing his sweatpants down until his cock sprung free, already hard and leaking. Apparently, you weren’t the only sexually frustrated one.

“Fuck,” you breathed out when he buried himself in you with one stroke.

“Quiet, baby.” His lips found yours stifling your small moans as he began moving his hips.

Breathless gasped and small moans soon filled the room, occasionally accompanied by the sound of skin slapping, when Hajime couldn’t stop his hips before they met yours. “I’m close,” you whimpered as he began rubbing your clit and he shot you a breathless smile and pressed a small kiss to your lips. “Bite something when you come,” he said quietly, thrusts becoming a bit more erratic.

“Disgusting!” Loud banging on the door interrupted you and Hajime let out a string of curses. “If you already know then don’t go interrupting, Shittykawa!” Not having to hide anymore his hips finally snapped into yours, using the full capacity of his strength to make you moan against his shoulder.

Unfortunately, the orgasm you experienced didn’t lessen the embarrassment when you faced the others again.

-*-*-*-*-*-*

It was your turn to hang your head in shame, trying not to meet your parents’ eyes, who were seated next to you. Or worse, Hajime’s parents.

Tooru chuckled at your misery, before continuing.

“To be honest, I wasn’t that surprised when Iwa-chan called me and told me he would send me pictures of rings and I should help him decide. He obviously forgot timezones since it was 2am for me and I first thought somebody had died, but after promising to make me best man I obviously forgave him.” The guests laughed again and Tooru took a well-rehearsed break.

“I don’t think I have seen Iwa-chan as nervous as when he was rehearsing his proposal through me via Skype. I told him it was good, even though he was a stammering mess. But the thing about those two over there is that they calm each other down. So I knew, when the moment would come, everything would go swimmingly. I saw the way they looked at each other, there was no way she would say no.”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“What are you planning?” You were chuckling, when Hajime lead you through the small house on the outskirts of Tokyo you two had purchased together when it was safe that he was staying in Japan with his work. “Let me surprise you, woman, and stop asking.” You could hear the amusement in his voice and it made your heart bloom. After all these years together he still made you feel like you were going on your first date. And he probably always would.

“Small step, be careful.”

You felt the ground changing from the hardwood floor to a rougher and colder one, showing you that you were now outside on the small terrace. You didn’t have to wonder for long, what he was planning when he carefully pulled the blindfold off your face. The first thing you saw was him.

But it was enough. He was smiling at you, his eyes radiating love. You couldn’t help but snaking your arms around his neck, to press a kiss to his lips. “You look so handsome. I love you.”

Hajime in a suit was something you had the pleasure of seeing a couple of times, but it still caught you off guard how someone could look this good.

“You haven’t even looked around, idiot,” He chuckled but still laid his arms around you to tug you towards him to kiss you again. After that he still forced you to turn around, to take a look at what he conjured in the last couple of hours.

The small garden you had behind your house was completely transformed, fairy lights making the faint evening glow even more magical.

“It’s beautiful.” The words were soft, Hajime wouldn’t have heard them if he wasn’t standing this close to you. “All for you, baby. I love you. I just thought, maybe we could sit on the blanket, maybe drink a bit of wine and just talk, you know?” His voice was laced with nervousness, even if he wasn’t even sure why. He knew you would like what he did. He went through your Pinterest boards and they were loaded with fairy lights, clinking classes, kisses shared under the faint glow. “That sounds perfect. What’s the occasion? I haven’t forgotten anything, right?” He laughed out loud at your nervousness. “No, babe, you haven’t. I just wanted to do something for you.”

His smile was so pure, filled with raw emotion, you had to kiss him again, putting as much passion as possible into the kiss. “Thank you, Hajime. I love you so much. I can’t believe I got so lucky.”

Your eyes were a bit wetter than usual and you hastily blinked the tears away, smiling at your boyfriend, ready to have a magical evening.

He really had everything prepared. Next to the blanket, a small cooler with a bottle of rosé laid, together with two glasses for you. His phone played soft instrumental music in the background, as you settled yourself against his chest, occasionally sipping at your wine, reminiscing about the past years, wishing for the future ones.

“Hey, move for a second, my leg’s fallen asleep.” A small tug of his leg under you made you sit up, while he fixed his posture, both of you now sitting upright in front of each other.

��Sorry, about that. Do you want to stand up for a bit to move it?” His eyes twinkled with amusement as he tugged you back down when you already wanted to stand up.

A shaky breath escaped him. So this was it. “Y/N, baby, I love you. So much, you can’t even imagine. You’ve been with me for the past couple of years and I honestly can’t wait for the future, if you’re by my side.” He paused for a second, hand slipping into his pocket. “Hajime.” Tears were already welling up in your eyes before he even managed to pull the ring out of his pocket, that he and Tooru had chosen so diligently a couple months prior.

“Will you marry me?”

-*-*-*-*-*-*

“Those two, right there, are a great couple if I’ve ever seen one. I actually can’t imagine a better partner for my Iwa-chan. Hajime. I’ve seen you grow up. I’ve been growing up alongside you and, dare I say, we’ve both become pretty great.” Tooru chuckled a bit, but everyone could hear his voice wavering, as his eyes were fixated on his best friend.

“I can’t express how happy I am, to still have you in my life, to now seeing you maturing into this great man who is inspiring others in everything he does. Seeing you enter this new part of your life, with this great woman in my life warms my heart. And you deserve nothing less. A toast to you. A toast to your future, Mr. and Mrs. Iwaizumi.” He raised his glass to you, a big smile on his face.

If he weren’t sitting right across from you, you would’ve missed the small tears rolling down his face. The guests around you all raised their glasses to towards you, everyone touched by Tooru’s speech.

But nobody came close to Hajime, who was clenching your hand in his’ tightly, tears welling up in his eyes, before he strode over to his friend, tightly embracing him.

You couldn’t hear what words were exchanged as tears fell and people smiled at the pair. Every guest at your wedding knew about Hajime and Tooru. The best friends, the best partners, who have been with each other since they were about five years old. Who only see each other every couple of months, partners technically becoming rivals.

When your husband came back to you his eyes were puffy, some tears still escaping, but the happiest smile on his face. Tooru hugged you too, wishing you good luck for your future, making a small joke about becoming an uncle again and telling you, once again, to take care of his best friend, his brother.

“I’m so happy to be your wife.” Hajime kissed you at your words but you still knew that he was equally as happy as you were. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily now,” you joked, relishing in the laughter that escaped him.

“As if I would ever want that. I’m going to put some kids in you as soon as possible. And then we have a little family. Maybe even a big family. Whatever you want.” He kissed you again and you couldn’t help but smile at the picture of him with kids in your head. More importantly, your kids. “About that.” You leaned into his side, grateful for the minutes you had at the edge of the room. “I’ve been thinking, maybe stopping my birth control? I mean we don’t have to start trying and stuff, but we’re married now and we’ve been together for a while, and we talked about it already, and-“ You were cut off with a passionate kiss, Hajime even dipping you slightly as he practically devoured you.

“Do you mean that? Do you really mean that?” You could only nod, a wide grin on your lips as you cupped his face in your hands to bring his mouth to yours again. “Fuck, I love you. I can’t wait to fuck you today.” Heat shot through your stomach at his words and his kisses did nothing to soothe it.

“Hajime.” You really didn’t intend for his name to sound like such a whimper. But when he growled against your lips you knew you were done for. “The bridal room. Where I got ready. Let’s go.”

You felt like a schoolgirl sneaking around again, when you were rushing through the halls of the venue, hand in hand with your new husband, giggling around, until you finally closed the door behind you, being pressed against the same one in an instant, a breathless Hajime resting his forehead against yours.

You were whispering ’I love you’s to each other for the probably thousandths time this day, but it wasn’t like you were growing tired of it anytime soon. “You gotta be careful about the dress, I don’t wanna have cum stains somewhere,” you reminded him as he was flicking up your skirt, already sinking to his knees.

“Guess I’ll just have to cum inside you.” You giggled in excitement at his statement, soon leading into a moan, when he buried his face between your lower lips, thong pulled to the side, his tongue expertly doing all the things he found out about you the years before.

“Fuck, Hajime.” Your fingers thread themselves in his hair, tugging him closer.

He took one of your legs in his hand, tugging it over his shoulder and digging even deeper between your legs, using the fingers of his other hand as well, to insert two of them into your dripping cunt. “Haji, I’m coming,” you whimpered, clamping onto him.

“Wait for my cock.” The years of never neglected training came in handy, when he stood up, with you in his arms, to seat you on the small table, that was probably just in the room for decorating purposes. You shrieked a bit at how fast everything was happening, but you kind of agreed with him.

The first time you should come as husband and wife should be with him deep inside you.

He dropped his suit pants to his ankles and you could feel yourself clench with excitement. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, please, Haji.” You pulled him towards you again to connect your lips, moaning into his mouth when he rubbed his dick up and down your folds, coating himself in your arousal.

It’s weird to explain what you felt the moment he pushed himself inside you. You had sex lots of times. But in that moment you felt more complete than you ever did.

You stayed like that for a couple of seconds, connected in the most intimate way possible, before his hips snapped back and into you again, eliciting a moan of both of you.

“Honestly, fucking you in your wedding dress is hot as fuck.” He laughed breathlessly, kissing you again, all while not halting his thrusts.

“Think about me pregnant with your kids,” you purred in his ear and squeaked in delight when his next thrust was harder than before.

“Don’t get me started. You’re going to look so good pregnant. All round and cozy.” His speed grew more erratic and you knew he would come soon.

“Fuck, we gonna start soon, right?” Your fingers clenched in his shirt, pushing him closer to you, chasing your own high.

“We’re starting right now, baby.” He kissed you again, hand moving down to rub your clit again, chuckling at the little whimpers you let out.

“Haji-“ You didn’t need to say more, he already knew, what you wanted to tell him.

“Go on, baby.” You kissed again, moans mixing in your mouths, as his tongue caressed yours, the slight taste of your juices still left on them. Every time his cock hit that one part you had to suppress a small scream, only slightly moaning in your husband's mouth.

“Can’t wait for tonight. Gonna fill you- ah- up again and again. And then you can be as loud as you want. Fuck. Gonna take my time with you.”

The filth he muttered against your lips only made you clench down harder onto his cock, feeling your high approaching rapidly. It was him coming, his cum spurting into you, which finally sent you over the edge, legs wrapping around him, bringing him even closer to your body, completely engulfing him, dead set on never letting him go.

Heavy breathing filled the room, as you both came down from your high. Small kisses were being exchanged, I love you’s were mumbled. But it was still perfect.

“I’m already anticipating tonight,” you mumbled, slightly exhausted due to moaning so much, making him chuckle, while his hands calmingly rubbed up and down your sides.

When he pulled out of you, you moaned again at the feeling of his cum slowly dribbling out of you.

“This looks so good. You look so good.” Hajime’s eyes were focused on the spot between your legs, fingers twitching to push it back inside.

“Don’t let it go on the dress!” You shrieked, chuckling at the way he darted to get a paper towel, carefully wiping you down.

“You alright, baby?” He helped you down from the table after pushing your thong back in place and fixing up his suit pants.

“Yeah. I love you. You made me the happiest woman alive, today, you know that?” The smile he threw your way at your words made your heart bloom. You were so in love with this man.

“Now, brace yourself for the comments.” You intertwined your fingers again, going back down the hallways to rejoin your guests at your reception. “You think somebody noticed something?” Your hands grew sweaty at the thought. Hopefully, nobody suspected a thing. Especially not his parents. Or worse, the grandparents!

“Tooru will have noticed for sure. You know how he is. If we’re lucky he hasn’t told Makki or Mattsun.” Hajime seemed way to relaxed at the thought, only shrugging his shoulders, ditching your hand to throw his arm around your shoulder and pull you into his side.

“I love you.” He pressed a kiss to your temple and you could feel he was smiling.

“I love you, too.”

No matter what was going to happen once you got back, this was still the best day of your life.

#haikyuu #iwaizumi #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi hajime #server collab #haikyuuhq #multifandhoem #seijoh #oikawa #oikawa tooru #wedding #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #aoba johsai #iwaizumi steamy #steamy

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fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

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Worth the World

Spike x Reader

Words: 2459

Summary: On a particularly bad day, the reader can barely bring herself to get out of bed. Spike does his best to comfort his girlfriend without being overbearing.

Notes: This is inspired by one of my favorite fics ever by @suckmysupernatural. I got this idea when having a depressive episode myself, so I hope you guys enjoy a little comfort fic with one of my favorite vamps. Plus, I’ve never written for Spike before and since I’m getting back into Buffy, I thought this would be the perfect time. (Also, this is entirely based on my own experience, so it might not be everyone’s experience with this kind of thing {but please be nice, I just used a few of the things I felt so it’s all based on my own emotions and insecurities!}) Enjoy!

Warnings: Depression, self-loathing, anxiety (This imagine was really just a way for me to put down my emotions and write something comforting, but I hope you all like it too)

You didn’t want to move. You weren’t really sure if you could. Your limbs just felt… heavy. Forcing your legs to move, you slowly swung them over the side of the bed, using all the strength you could muster to sit up straight.

It wasn’t that something terrible had happened. In fact, the day before had gone pretty well. You’d spent most of it watching movies with Willow and Buffy and, when the sunset, you went on a long evening walk with your boyfriend. There were no deadly forces plotting world domination, no vengeful vamps after you or your friends. Hell, your favorite restaurant was open and you brought home leftovers for breakfast.

Now, the idea of eating made your stomach turn. You managed to shuffle your way to the kitchen of your apartment, but just stood in front of the counter, leaning on the marble top for support. Just standing there felt like it took every ounce of energy you had. It was almost painful, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. You did your best to keep them from falling. You had places to be today, meeting up with the gang and you didn’t want to worry them with your moping.

With slow steps, you made your way back to your room to get dressed. Of course, most of your clothes were dirty and you didn’t care enough to wash them. So you threw a sweatshirt over your pajama top and put on some shoes, hoping no one would ask about it. You caught your reflection and felt that dark, empty feeling in your chest grow. Pathetic. Your shoulders sagged forward and you blinked away more tears as you watched them well in your eyes. You didn’t have the right to feel like this. How much had Buffy been through and she still greeted every day with a smile. Everything was perfect and yet you were pathetic enough to still want to crawl back into bed. You just hoped that you would feel better by the time you saw everyone. Especially Spike.

You sat with your legs pulled up to your chest. Xander and Willow were debating whether or not using wooden bullets would be a good vamp killer. Buffy was listening in amusement and Giles just looked exasperated, distracting himself by putting books back in their proper place on the shelves. No one said anything about your pajamas. You actually felt kind of invisible, like no one even really knew you were there. It made the empty feeling that much worse.

“What do you think, Y/N?”

“Xander, don’t you think that’s a little insensitive?”

“What? It’s not like we’re planning on dusting her boyfriend. Even if he is annoying and evil and-”

“Xander.” Willow said sternly. When you looked up, everyone’s eyes were on you.

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t really paying attention.” Your voice held little to no emotion. You were almost too exhausted to feel anything. You just felt hollow.

“If I shot Spike with a wooden bullet do you think he would, you know,” Xander made a motion with his hands that was meant to simulate a vampire dying. “Just theoretically, of course.”

Everyone was expecting a witty remark. You and Xander were close and teased each other often, especially about your relationship with Spike. Instead, you just shrugged, your eyes fixating on a spot on the table.

“Maybe.”

The group collectively exchanged a look of concern, but didn’t press anything. After all, what reason could there be for you to be upset? They knew that if something had happened with Spike, you would tell them and there weren’t any recent deaths to worry about, so they continued on with their playful conversations about breaking curses and some movie that they had watched recently. It felt like you were intruding- like an unwanted bystander that everyone wished would just disappear. While no one had said anything like that, the thoughts filled your head nonetheless.

This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, but you’d never told them. An episode like this hadn’t happened in months so you had hoped they had stopped. Some days you were as happy as you ever had been, but others you felt like a burden. Worthless and pathetic- pitying yourself for no reason at all.

Spike didn’t even know, even after almost a year of dating. You never dreamed of telling him. Spike was always saying that you were the strong one. You were the one that helped him through every day of his endless living. He got his soul for you. What would he say if he saw you like this? If he knew the doubts and loathing going through your head. He would know that you’re weak and vulnerable and you didn’t want that to happen.

So you didn’t tell them. You kept all of your thoughts inside of you as they ate away at your mind. On the outside, you just looked tired. Everyone knew that you stayed awake into the late hours because of Spike, so you hoped that’s what they would think. You were tired, but it wasn’t from lack of sleep. It was like your body just wanted to give up. Maybe if you could just wake yourself up, everything would go back to normal.

Buffy and Willow went out for coffee, so you went with them, hoping the caffeine would be enough to shake you out of this. Instead, it just made you more jumpy and anxious. The cup shook in your hand, but you kept drinking, still hoping that it would give you enough energy to fake it. This, like your out-of-it demeanor, did not go unnoticed.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” Buffy asked, suddenly stopping her conversation with Willow about shoes. At first, you didn’t realize she was talking to you. You were so focused on the thoughts swarming around in your head, you hadn’t noticed they were both looking at you with concern.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you’ve been spacing out all morning. What’s going on?”

“I guess I’m just tired.” You shrugged, grimacing from the effort the small movement took.

“Are you sure? Did Spike do something stupid, because you know I’ll-”

“Really, Buffy, I’m okay. I think I just need to go home and rest for a while.” You finished the rest of the coffee, feeling your heart beat faster as the anxiety built up in your chest. “I’ll see you guys later, okay?”

“Okay.” Buffy gave you a skeptical glance and Willow smiled sincerely.

“Feel better, Y/N.”

“I’ll see you guys later.” You faked the best smile you could before turning away from them.

“Is she going to be okay?” Willow wondered, watching the way you nervously messed with the hem of your shirt as you walked. Buffy narrowed her eyes and grabbed her bag.

“I don’t know, but if she won’t talk to us about it, there’s one person she will.”

“Oh do we have to go there? You know that place gives me the creeps.” Willow whined. Buffy just gave her a look and the two trekked off in search of your sun-hating boyfriend.

You stood in the middle of your living room as the tears slowly started to pour down your cheeks. The coffee must have given you enough energy to cry and now you couldn’t stop. You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t move, you just stood, frozen by the overwhelming emptiness inside you. Pathetic. Useless. Worthless. Everything was swirling around your head, breaking you down further until you had to lean against the window sill to stay standing.

You could faintly hear something outside your door, but you made no motion to open it. It sounded far away, or maybe you were just blocking it out. All you could hear was your heart pounding, along with the hundreds of doubts rattling in your head. It was until the door burst open that you flinched.

“First, the slayer comes banging on my crypt, telling me that something’s wrong and then you leave me to break down your door- if I could die, you would have scared me to death. Why didn’t you open the door?” Spike huffed in frustration. You didn’t turn around. Frankly, you hardly noticed he was there. His irritation quickly faded, replaced by worry. “Y/N, love, what is it?”

You still didn’t respond, keeping your back turned with your hands clinging to the window sill to keep from falling. Spike approached you slowly and you thought you heard his footsteps, but part of you thought you were just imagining him. Why would he come for you? It was the middle of the day and the sun was high in the sky. A rush of guilt washed over you. He came here despite the danger of being burned and you didn’t even have a reason. You’d put him at risk for your own pitiful problems.

“Darling, why won’t you look at me?” He took another step towards you, but stopped. The sun’s rays created a shield around you, preventing him from pulling you into his arms. “If you could just lower the blinds, that would make this far less awkward.”

“You d-didn’t need to come here. T-the sun.” You stammered. You wanted to reach for the curtains, but you still couldn’t move your arms without your legs giving out.

“A little sunlight isn’t going to stop from me from getting to you,” he said sincerely. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him rush to the window, the sound of his skin sizzling in the light made you let go of the ledge. Your legs buckled just as he got the curtains closed.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You had hurt him. All you had to do was reach up and shut out the sunlight and you couldn’t even do that. He burned himself just to reach you.

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. It’s alright.” He held you up for a moment before sinking to the floor to hold you in his lap. “I’ve got you love, I’ve got you.”

“Y-you shouldn’t be here, Spike. I’m not-” You hid your face from his view so he would see the tears. “I’m not worth all of this. There’s something wrong with me. One minute I’m fine and the next I’m like this and I don’t even know why. I don’t have a reason to feel like this. It’s like I’m… broken or something.”

“You aren’t broken.” Spike said softly, tucking your head under his chin and gently rocking you back and forth. “You’re human.”

He held you like that for a long while, not saying anything or even moving off of the floor. He didn’t make you look at him until he was sure you had relaxed enough. Putting a finger under your chin, he gently lifted your face to meet his.

“I’m sorry about all this.” You sniffed, using your sleeve to wipe some of the dampness off your cheeks.

“I don’t want to hear those worse from you for the rest of the day.” Spike gave you a small smile and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “I would trek across deserts wrapped in a blanket if it meant being here with you. Every second is worth it.” Now, he lowered his lips down to yours for a slow, sweet kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were shining with the soul of a man in love. “To me, love, you’re worth the world.”

You stared into his eyes and knew that he meant every single word. While it didn’t chase away your doubts or the empty feeling in your chest, it helped you see that this feeling would end. And for now, that was enough.

“I love you.” You whispered, pulling him closer. He kissed the top of your head.

“I love you too, darling.” He hooked his arm under your knees and stood, holding you against his chest. “Now, why don’t I get you something to eat and we can spend the day in bed?” He wiggled his eyebrows. “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“Spike.” You laughed lightly.

“There,” He beamed, “I knew I could get a smile.”

He carried you into your room and placed you on your usual side of the bed, laying your fluffiest blanket over top of you. Then he vanished into your kitchen, the sound of your cupboards opening and shutting reminding you that he had no idea where anything was. It almost made you smile. He came back in with a bowl of your favorite cereal, a class of milk, and a thin leather bound journal.

“What’s that?” You wondered as he climbed into the bed beside you. He handed you the cereal and milk and put his arm around you, pulling you close.

“Eat your cereal.” He ordered teasingly, opening up to the first page. You tried to look over his shoulder, but he pulled the book away, laughing. “Do you want me to read or not?”

“What is it?” Your curiosity made your tone amused and playful. You were starting to sound like you again.

“Well, ever since I got this pesky soul back, I’ve had an unbearable amount of feelings running about in my head, so I figured I could at least put them to good use.”

“Spike, are they…?” You perked up with excitement. He smiled sheepishly.

“Poems.” He looked down at seemingly endless pages of his writings and back at you. “They’re mostly about you, of course. I thought, maybe, you’d like to hear them. See if they’d make you feel a little better.” You were almost too awestruck to nod.

“I’d really like that.”

With your cereal in hand, you curled up beside him, laying your head back against his shoulder. He read softly and slowly, his gentleness with his words almost lulling you to sleep. The poems were beautiful, forcing you to stay awake if only to hear one more word. Spike felt you relaxed against him as he read and paused his reading to kiss your forehead, then your cheek, and lastly your lips.

You felt the emptiness for a few more days, but each day, he was by your side, making sure you ate and gave yourself time to breathe. By the time you started to feel normal again, he’d read most of his poems and continued to write more and you were able to go for your evening walks without feeling exhausted. Your friends were more than supportive and helped you through it all while still giving you the space you needed.

It wasn’t the last time an episode like this happened, but now you always knew that, no matter what, you’d never be alone.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216

#spike x reader #james marsters #Buffy The Vampire Slayer #btvs #spike #spike buffy #xander harris #buffy summers #willow rosenberg #buffyverse #comfort fic #depressive episode #comfort boyfriend fic #cute

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bittersweetmorality · 4 years ago

Note

OMG CAN U PLS WRITE A SUB CHUUYA SMUT I BEG

ASK AND YOU SHALL RECEIVE BABIE!! sub chuuya is my favorite chuuya 😋😋 sorry this took so long !! i was actually admitted to the hospital and .. YUH so i haven't been able to do literally anything for a bit. but ! i back. also i was listening to the Mitski cover of Let's Get Married the entire time i wrote this ANYWAY i hope u enjoy ^_^

— i'm going to take such good care of you, baby~ pt. 1

☾ pairing: sub!chuuya x GN!Reader (f!bodied reader in the next part, but no pronouns specified in either)

☾ summary: chuuya wants you to take care of him

☾ warnings: very suggestive themes, but no explicit smut (yet), making out, i think that's it

☾ a/n: HIHI Y'ALL. i'm currently writing the second part and it's basically finished, i just thought the only way to pace this fic out was by separating it into two part-- idk why it just seemed off to me if it wasn't. BUT ANYWAY ! SECOND PART OUT VERY VERY SOON !!! and it's literally filthy like ... lord have mercy

☾ w/c: 1,358

| PART TWO |

the entire evening, chuuya was barely being subtle about his feelings— his desire. light touches on your thigh that lasted a little too long not to arouse suspicion, kisses that lingered farther than they should’ve, and the dark look in his eyes as his gaze drank your figure.

even the most oblivious person could tell what was going on— chuuya was never one to hide his feelings, anyway. even at an extravagant event like the annual port mafia gala, he still managed to show enough PDA to make anyone uncomfortable.

pressing you against him on the dance floor, trying his best to subtly (but failing miserably) grind against you, bringing his face down to your neck.

“chuuya!” you yelped, as he nipped a small mark against your collarbone. “i told you, we’re leaving soon, can’t you calm down for just another 10 minutes?”

you weren’t against PDA— of course not. you knew what you were signing up for when you agreed to be his girlfriend. but, you just wished that he would be professional for this one night and hold himself together so you didn’t have to shield your eyes from the stares of mafia members.

“aw, are you flustered?” his movements were slightly sloppy from his light alcohol consumption, and you could feel his smirk against your skin. you scoffed, placing your hands on his shoulders and pushing ever so slightly for him to look you in the eyes.

he didn’t move an inch.

“no. i’m not flustered, chuuya,” you tried again, with more force this time. “i just—“ again. he still didn’t budge.

with a huff, and your patience running dangerously thin, you grabbed his chin harshly. his eyes instantly met yours, big and full of surprise.

“we’re going. now.” your voice wasn’t loud, but it would be nothing if not powerful; stern.

you had his undivided attention now.

he blinked dumbly a few times before snapping back to reality, and doing his best to regain some semblance of composure “ahem— the gala doesn’t end for another half an hour, babe. we’re in no rush, are we~” he moved in to steal another kiss, his eyes dark and his hands lingering.

your jaw tensed, and your grip on him even rougher now, “did you hear what i said? now.” you nothing but growled lowly in his ear.

you swear you could hear his breath hitch in his throat, but at that moment your frustration ran far too high to find the means to care. you grabbed his hand, speeding to the front hostess, and giving her a half-hearted ‘thank you,’ as she returned your fancy dress-coats.

as the two of you rode back to your shared apartment, the tension in the air could be sliced with a knife. you noticed that way the red-head seemed to shrink in the passenger seat; but most certainly not out of fear. intimidated was the better word— and as if he wanted to know what you were going to do next.

you’ve never acted like this before, and he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

“chuuya, baby, why didn’t you listen to me when I told you to tone it down?” you questioned. your tone wasn’t completely calmed down yet, but it was significantly more gentle than at the event.

he scoffed, “can’t help it when you dressed up like that, doll~” he attempted at teasing you and taking more control, despite his inner dilemma.

something about the way he thought he always had complete control just made you want to ruin him. you just gave him a small smile, planting a small kiss on his cheek and saying nothing else.

by the end of the night, you just knew you would make sure he listened to every command you gave him.

for the remainder of the way home, you barely gave him any attention, simply turning on your music and keeping your focus on the road. his neediness didn’t subside; if anything, it only got more heated. he still had one hand on your thigh, stroking lightly and squeezing occasionally, whispering sweet nothings like, ‘can’t wait to get you home,’ and ‘want you so bad.’

you couldn’t agree more.

finally unlocking the front door and stepping in, you were instantly met with a messy kiss from chuuya, his arms beginning to snake around your waist.

oh god, was your patience running thin with him tonight.

you grabbed him by both of his wrists, pinning them by the sides of his head and looking him straight in the eyes, “you should know by now, you’re not calling the shots tonight, baby.”

chuuya was never one to give up quickly, you knew. it wasn’t going to be easy to get him to submit to you, but damnit, you were going to make this man beg on his knees for you to fuck him.

he groaned into your mouth as you kissed him roughly, gently poking your tongue out to brush against his pink lips in question. instead, his lips sealed immediately, breaking away from your kiss and looking into your eyes with a dark gaze.

oh, you knew this would be difficult.

“let go of my hands,” he growled.

“or what? what’re you gonna do about it, sweetheart?” you cooed in his ear. you could feel his muscles tense under your hold as if he was about to break out, but you quickly moved in retaliation. You caged him in with your body and bringing your knee up to brush against his growing bulge. “hm... you want me to let go, but it seems like you’re enjoying this just as much as i am, sweetheart~”

his brow quirked upward, the way it does when he doesn’t know what to say for himself. his body was betraying him. without realizing it, he was finally able to submit to you— throughout the entire evening, the butterflies in the pit of his stomach were purely anticipation.

anticipation for what you were going to do to him.

yet, he still attempted to break out of your hold, feeling the strain in your hold. he was much stronger than you-- you both were well aware of this. if he really wanted to break out and take control, he could. of course, you wouldn't let this remain unspoken between you.

"something the matter, hun?~ you want your hands free?" you whisper, letting your voice run low and your breath fan against his ear, "hm? if you want it so bad, then do it. you know i wouldn't stop you~"

you gave him his time, never rushing him to make the final decision, you wanted chuuya to as comfortable and content with everything.

suddenly, you felt the tension in his wrists go limp. you expected to feel reluctance radiating from him, in his eyes, in his actions. instead, you were met with his blue eyes, big and round and trusting. he relaxed into you.

he was yours.

you chuckled lowly in his ear, basking in your victory for a short moment before beginning to lead him to your shared bedroom. you wanted to make sure the entire experience was perfect,

just for him.

suddenly, you felt a light tug against the fingers wrapped around your hand, ever so slight that if you weren't giving him your undivided attention, you may have missed it.

you looked back at your boyfriend, immediately being able to pinpoint his nervousness.

"hey... chuuya, baby," you whisper, cupping his face gently. "if you don't want to do this, that's okay. hm? i promise, okay?"

he moved his gaze up to meet your eyes earnestly.

"take care of me... please," he said under his breath.

your heart swelled at his words. you knew just how much courage it took for him to say it, and how much trust he had in you for him to mean it.

"oh, honey... don't you worry..." you coo, pulling him flush against you, chest-to-chest. despite his nervous appearance, you could feel his arousal press up against you-- straining against his slacks. oh, he definitely wanted this.

"i'm going to take such good care of you, baby~"

masterlist

#chuuya smut #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #chuuya drabble #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuuya x y/n #bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd smut #bsd smau #morality.reqs

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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago

Text

Strong Girl 🔞☁️❤️🎀

🍧 Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x Reader

🍧 Genre: Good Girl AU!, slice of Life AU, non-Idol AU, smut

🍧 Warnings: DD/LG themes, so much love it's gross istg, a home accident if that makes you uncomfortable but we aint having a full on world's end dw, hero! Reader, no other way to put it, Koo is so proud, so so proud, showers her in kisses yes please, nsfw themes because it's me what did yall think this was gonna be, finger sucking (forgive me lord for I have sinned-), reader being cute, injuries (mentioned and described), praise kink, oral (oral f. rec.), size kink, strength kink, manhandling, subspace, Dom! Jungkook, Sub!Reader, protected sex because you won’t ever catch me slip HAH!

🍧 Summary: Jungkook is not just your boyfriend- he's your absolute hero, your knight in shining armor, your protector and personal simpBodyguard when he needs to. But sometimes, even little girls can be heroes. And they always get rewarded, in the end.

This is part of the Good Girl Universe! (But can be enjoyed on its own)

Good Girl || Sweet Girl || Smart Girl || Brave Girl || Pretty Girl || Charming Girl || Enticing Girl || Bad Girl || Tempting Girl || Strong Girl

Taglist: @sweetenedcooky @ggukkieland @btsismybias22 @darkgvk @daddypkj @flowerprincess24 @crazylittlemay @zeharilisharaban @teresaisla @tangledsparkles @dammit-jjk

The first time you said it, it made his heart beat faster.

It was on your way home from grocery shopping, a small bag in your hand as Jungkook held your hand, walking silently. You and him had been slowly but surely become a couple like the one's you always dreamt of being when you were younger- the one that fought sometimes, yes, but would ultimately be together at the end of the day, doing simple tasks such as what you did just now. Jungkook somehow made even boring things such as buying mere groceries interesting, not just by making fun of other customer's outfits, but also by explaining things you didn't know. He loved that he somehow made your eyes light up in wonder whenever he told you about a certain dish he could try out with a vegetable you've never tasted before. Or that awkward moment you said you hated brocolli, just so he could correct you and explain to you that no, you've eaten it a lot actually- he was just really good at making food taste how you liked it. He felt proud when you told him, with magic in your eyes, that he was incredible.

Because when you said it, he really felt like he was.

It all happened so suddenly, you didn't even notice yourself slip out of fear and shock- and even Jungkook didn't notice at first. A stray dog had walked up to you, but, contrary to all those cheesy movies where you'd pet it and it would be on its way quick after, it turned out to be not a stray at all; because the man that owned the big dog was desperately trying to catch up to it, leash in his hand- collar still attached to the hook.

Jungkook had never reacted so quickly in his life before, as he pushed you behind him, sucessfully shielding you from the violently barking saint bernard in front of him. You held onto his jacket in complete terror, mind filling with nothing but the loud barks as you were sure this was a nightmare. Don't get it wrong, you loved dogs- but this one wasn't so sweet.

"I'm so sorry!" The man yelled, slipping the collar back around his dog's neck, making it a bit tighter to make sure his pet was secure this time. "He just slipped out, are you two okay?" He said, and Jungkooks voice spoke out, calm, but firm in its tone.

"We're good, but please make sure to boy a harness or something, sir." He said, and the man apologized again, hurrying on his way while the dog still pulled violently and untamed at the leash.

"Baby? He's gone, you can let go now." Jungkook says with the hint of a smile in his voice, one that quickly vanished however once he feels you sniffling against the fabric of his jacket, as your head shook in denial. "Sweetheart I can't check up on you if you hide like this." He explains calmly, glad that your apartment building was already in sight. He knew that you had probably slipped, and he was unsure how to deal with that in public; it wasn't like he was ashamed of it, but he knew that others would judge you quick and easy, and he didn't want to push you into such a bad situation. "Can Kookie check up on you, baby? You're worrying me." He says, and at that, you slowly let go of the fabric, as he turns around. His heart clenches at the sight, tear stained cheeks and nose all red already. He quats down in front of you for a second as he rubs your arms comfortingly. "There we go, everything's fine, yeah?" You nodded after a moment, but refused to speak. "That was scary, wasn't it?" He asked, and you nodded, still quiet. "Let's go home, okay? We can continue that puzzle we've started yesterday, alright? And Miri is waiting, too!" He said, and at that, you nodded more excitedly, even though you still seemed timid.

But you still held his hand tightly, only letting go once you were in the safety of your own home- calling him your hero with a quiet voice he almost didn't catch.

Jungkook really enjoyed both sides of you.

Just like he did now, searching for the right puzzle pieces to place, silently watching your innocent, concentrated face. In a way, it was healing for him; since he never truly had a good childhood himself, this was somehow like a chance to enjoy all of these things he missed with you- a fact that made all of these experiences even more special to him. "Baby, I don't think that fits there." He chuckled, correcting your placement of a piece that didn't fit the edges of the picture it was trying to build. You huffed, before yawning, eyes glossing over with sleep. "Hm, this one is hard, isn't it?" He asked, running his hand over your head before pushing some hair behind your ear. "I think my baby needs to recharge her batteries, hm?" He asked, but you shook your head after a moment, making him raise his brow in question. "Oh really? Miri, what do you think?" He asked, the dog immediately skipping over, excited to be given attention so suddenly. She immediately went to sniff your face, making you giggle. "See! I knew she'd agree with me!" He said, and you laughed full on when the dog went to lick your cheek. "Alright then, Miri, off!" He called out, the dog immediately stopping her actions at the sound of his voice. Jungkook had been unsure on how to train a puppy at first, but overall, he'd done a pretty good job at keeping her fierce temper under control.

Even throughout her violent phase of chewing on pretty much every fucking thing.

So after making sure you were comfortable on the couch, he simply sat down at the puzzle laid out on the living room floor to continue silently. However, shuffling could be heard as he look towards the couch, where you'd previously been laid down on; your tired form talking towards him with eyes barely open. He chuckled when you simply flopped down close to him on the floor with your blanket, head on his thigh as you sighed in comfort. It was second nature to him almost, the way his hand immediately found your head, gently stroking your hair as you drifted off.

Days like this were nice, he decided.

Typically when you came home, Jungkook would greet you at least with a call. Today however, you heard nothing; something that immediately set something off inside you.

Searching for him wasn't a long process- after unleashing Miri into the apartment, you went straight into the bedroom where he's usually be if he's not feeling too well. And sure enough, there he was- weirdly pale and visibly uncomfortable, even in his sleep. Squatting down in front of the bed, you gently felt his forehead, just to simply detect that he was slightly sweating, but had no fever whatsoever. "Koo?" You asked, and he stirred a little, opening his eyes, a little red looking.

"You're home? I didn't even hear you." He said, before he ran a hand over his face. "Sorry, I think I'm coming down with something." He explained, and you nodded, simply telling him to lay back down and take it easy. You made a mental note to maybe cook something light since he never really had much of an appetite when he was sick.

"Is it just me or is it cold in here?" You asked, brows furrowed as you noticed how chilly it was inside the apartment, despite the heater being set pretty high. Jungkook simply groaned, too tired to move much as he asked you to please close the curtains. You followed his request, worried figure dissapearing out of the bedroom.

However, something didn't sit well with you.

Maybe it was a simple gut feeling, but when the night slowly crept over the town, and you were slowly growing mildly dizzy yourself, you decided to make sure that your suspicions were correct, slowly walking towards the heater in the living room. It was chilly, but the heater was set to full power. And somehow, after looking at Miri whining in her bed, aimlessly pacing around, it seemed to click inside your head.

Jungkook had been home all day since last evening.

The apartment was cold, the heater's on.

Miri was already looking just as bad- and your own headache told you that this was exactly what you thought it was.

You instantly shot up from the couch, knocking your knee into the edge of the table which made you fall- the edge of the table ripping at your skin on your arm, painfully scratching it open. But it was as if you didn't feel it. Ripping the bedroom door open clumsily, you immediately opened the window, turning the heater off, before you went to wake Jungkook- or at least, try. "Kookie! Jungkook, wake up, come on!" You begged, shaking his shoulder as he slowly somehow came to his senses. He wasn't really awake- but he wasnt unconscous either. "Fuck.." You whispered under your breath, grabbing his phone and calling an ambulance- the dispatcher telling you to try and get him outside or to a place with fresh air.

But this was Jeon-I-love-working-out-Jungkook.

There was no way you could carry him all those stairs.

So you ran out the door, uncaring to close it, and knocked at your neighbours door- a familiar face looking at you with surprise. "Y/N?" He asked, visibly stunned to see you; teary eyed, with a bleeding arm, and clearly distressed.

"Namjoon, I think we have a gas leak in our apartment.. Jung-Jungkookie- they said I should get him outside but he's too heavy-" You pressed out, last words a little unclear as you finally broke. Namjoon simply went inside to grab his shoes and keys, before he closed the door, running towards your apartment, where he instantly grabbed Jungkooks arms, trying to somehow get him on his back.

"Jesus christ how much does he fucking weigh-" He swore under his breath, until he got a somewhat secure hold on the younger boy, walking out the door while you grabbed the dog, running after the two with the puppy in your arms.

Outside, the ambulance had just arrived, immediately attending to the both of you.

Seems like you owe Namjoon twice now.

Jungkook woke up with stinging smells and bright lights around him, some birds chirping outside the opened window. His arm felt heavy, fingers tingling slightly, and as his eyes adjusted to his new surroundings, he saw the cause of it.

You, with a bandaged arm, sleeping with your hands grasping his in your slumber.

He gently moved his arm, waking you, as you sleepily looked up at him, eyes suddenly widening as they glistened- a tell-tale sign that you were going to cry. "Thank god!" You said, head burying itself into his chest as he chuckled, a little confused on what was actually happening.

"What happened?" He said, partially also referring to your arm clad in white cloth, his inked hand gently touching it.

"We had a gas leak in our apartment." You explained, sniffling. "At first I thought you were just not feeling well, but then I started to feel unwell too, and Miri.." You went on, his hand running over your head to soothe you a little, noticing how you were getting wound up again. "And then I- I checked online and thought better be safe but you were sleeping, and you looked so bad so I called an ambulance and they said I should get you outside and I really tried-" You explained, and even though it hurt him to see your tears, he couldn't help but chuckle at that in amusement.

"Baby, you tried to carry me?" He asked, and you nodded. "My strong girl!" He teased, full on laughing when you playfully hit his arm to make him stop, a small smile on your lips. "But I highly doubt you got me even out of bed baby." He said, and a familiar voice chimed in from the door of his hospital room.

"No, but she was smart enough to get someone who could." Namjoon explained, casual clothes telling you that he wasn't there for work purpose. "I'm seriously questioning your body though. How the hell do you look like a yoga instructor but weigh as much as a professional wrestler?" Namjoon teased, making Jungkook groan in annoyance.

"Oh my god, now I owe him twice!" He said, playfully exagerating his reaction to the fact that Namjoon had helped them for the second time by now. "Please someone lay me back in my bed, I wanna die!" He said, and you hit his chest.

"No!" You said. "You're ready to leave me and Miri like that?" You said, playfully pouting as you turned away from him.

"Oh baby no, I take it back- nooo, look at me!" He whined out, making grabby hands for your just-out-of-reach sweater you wore, Namjoon laughing as he watched the scene unfold.

A couple of days later, Jungkook and you were sitting in your home again- with the pipes fixed, and plans of moving into a different apartment. For some reason, you didn't truly trust the apartment anymore- but maybe that would settle after a while.

"Hm.." Jungkook mumbled, looking at you as if checking for something, until he moved from his place on the couch, sitting up from his previously laying position. Without many words, he moved you onto his lap, his back resting against the couch, as he held you in place on his thighs. "You know everything's fixed right?" He asked, and you nodded- but he knew you simply answered to reassure him, not yourself. "Baby, I promise we can think about moving if you're really not comfortable- but let's settle down first, yeah?" He said, and you sighed.

"I know its stupid-" You began, but he quickly placed his pointer and ring finger to your lips, effectively shutting you up. You already knew that he'd argue that you weren't stupid, and you knew that- sometimes phrases like these just slipped out. So you playfully snapped after his fingers, making him shoot you a dark glance; a glint in his eyes that told you clearly that he was definitely up to play with you.

"Hm, did they never tell you to not bite the hand that feeds you?" He said, voice deep as he suddenly, and without warning, pulled you closer by your thighs, the abrupt movement forcing you to brace yourself against his chest with your hands, face inches away from his. "Or the hand that gets you off, in our case." He added, making you blush from his words.

You should be used to this by now, but somehow, as weird as it sounded, being together with Jungkook was never the same as the time before. He always found ways to make things different- either by taking it slow, or by introducing you to kinks and fantasies you never even knew were a thing. He loved excitement, loved to try out new things, even if sometimes they would turn out to be something he or you didn't enjoy. Somehow, he always managed to steer things around even if that happened however, turning an awkward situation into a sweet memory in the blink of an eye.

He groaned out lowly when you took his hand again, never breaking eye contact with him while you slowly guided his hand towards your lips- Jungkook instantly taking the hint, as he pushed his first two fingers between your lips, pushing down your tongue;

oh what a sight to see.

Both of his hands wandered towards your neck, never putting pressure- simply touching, holding you, and enjoying just how sweet you were being just for him. He loved these moments with you, these reminders that no matter how useless he felt whenever something didn't go his way, for you, he was always a hero. A knight in shining armor, your Master-

He could feel his pants getting uncomfortable at the thought of those words tumbling from your lips.

He'd probably introduce you to that someday else, because in that moment, he was way too impatient to think clear enough. He'd probably miss important clues that were sometimes so small that he himself wondered how he saw them- because you were dangerously submissive to him. He knew that if he asked, you'd do anything.

Even if you didn't like it.

"Hm.. I wonder if my baby can ride me this time?" He hummed, and you nodded, making him grin as he searched behind him for his hidden condoms in the couch- something you found quite funny at first, but by now you've gotten used to it. "Fuck." He groaned, noticing that there was no contraceptive hidden like it usually was.

"Thats a bad word, kookie." You playfully said, teasing him as he grabbed your behind quite roughly, raising his brow as his jaw clenched.

"Oh I'll make you scream out some bad words." He said, before standing up, throwing you over his shoulder in a manner that seemed to practiced to be simply winged out of nowhere. After all, this wasn't just a one time thing- he loved showing off his strength over you, and you loved it just as much in return.

Your body hitting the matress, Jungkook immediately grabbed your thighs again, pulling you to the edge of the bed where he already kneeled- placing your legs over his shoulders after almost rushing to get your clothes off. There was no gentle touching, no foreplay, he simply dived right in, pitch black eyes darkly watching you as you squirmed, back arching off the mattress every now and then in pleasure once he added the first two fingers into the game he was playing. "No smart words now, hm?" He hummed from his spot between your legs, amusement clear on his face at the sight of your trembling body. "But I'm not gonna let you suffer tonight, baby." He said, licking his lips before crawling over your body, hand reaching for the bedside table where he knew he had condoms stored in. "Take it as-" He said, while shedding his clothes before wrapping his length in the clear protection. "As a reward." He said. "For being my personal guardian angel." He said sweetly, before leaning down to connect his lips with yours. What was an innocent gesture at first, turned heated quite quick however; you would've never guessed, but Jungkook was a pretty messy kisser- open mouthed and tongue running over your lips, all while he guided his length inside you.

One thing Jungkook loved, was just how utterly small you looked underneath him. Not just that- but the way he could feel his own dick move inside you underneath his inked hand placed on your lower belly made him growl deeply as he rolled his hips in a forward motion, eyes fixed on the view he had of your cunt swallowing him as if it was nothing.

You were his.

For a long time, he didn't quite get the hype about saying that your partner belonged to you. For him, that was stupid- you couldn't 'own' a person, so why say that? But nowadays, he finally understood that no, this wasn't about ownership. It was about being able to simply have situations like these; moments of pure emotions and nothing else, with a person so devoted to yourself that you felt as if your entire life had their name.

He was yours.

Because even if he took on a more dominant role in the relationship, and a leading force in the bedroom, you had him in your hands at the end of the day. He was so utterly in love with you it sometimes hurt him to even think about it; the way you looked at him with so much adoration made him melt, the way you touched him with so much care made him feel so loved. He'd glady give his life to you if he had to choose between you and him.

"So sweet, just look at you." He mused, out of breath as he smiled, leaning over you again before kneading your soft breasts with his hands, kissing the delicate skin sweetly as he picked up his pace. "All mine, aren't you?" He said, and you nodded, mewling out something he didn't quite catch- but that was okay. "Gonna fuck you stupid, pretty girl-" He huffed out, biting the skin on your shoulder as he grew more and more sloppy. "Come on baby, cream on my cock," He grunted out, making you squirm- and open your mouth in a silent scream as Jungkooks hand found its way between your bodies, viciously moving his fingers over your most sensitive spot. The quick movement and the pressure of his length inside you finally made you come undone, hands desperately reaching for his arms as if that could save you. The orgasm you experienced made your vision bright, and unbeknownst to you, Jungkook came quickly after, panting to catch his breath, before he discarded the condom.

It took a moment for you to come back around, but when you did, the first thing you noticed was, that you were practically laying across his chest- his hand gently running up and down your arm, kisses being place on the top of your head as he bathed you in praise. "You're so sweet.." He hummed, before he noticed your eyes on him. "Welcome back princess." He grinned cockily, before placing a kiss ontop of your nose. "Come on baby, lets get you washed up and into bed, yeah?" He said, and you simply nodded.

Too tired to talk, and too comfortable in his arms to really move on your own. But that was fine.

He loved carrying you around anyways.

"You know.." Jungkook said, while you were both at the table, eating dinner. "I know I said I was uncomfortable with you calling me daddy, and I still stand by that." He said, and you nodded, unsure where he was going.

"I mean, yeah, you've said that but what does that have to do with-"

Suddenly, he leaned forwards after finishing his plate, eyes sparkling mischieviously. "I wouldn't mind hearing you call me 'Master' though." He hummed out.

And you choked on your fries.

#bts imagine #bts #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook imagine #bts jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts reactions

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leah-bobeea · 4 years ago

Text

Magazine Girl; Steve Rogers

You ever start writing a fic about a journalist reader at two am who’s eventually gonna end up doing steeb, over his desk, biting down on his expensive leather belt?

❀ ❀ ❀

Warnings: CEO!Steve x Journalist!Reader, Angst, Steve’s a little mean, Bossy Steve, Shy/Anxious reader, Dom!steve, mentions spanking, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, coercion (a little teensy bit), Bad writing lol

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Terrible writing w/ a terribly rushed ending. Written on my phone, in my notes app, not beta read, and barely proofread.

❀ ❀ ❀

Yes, your hands were busy. Not busy typing out a rough draft of this stupid article on Steve Rogers, not busy calling his secretary to set up a meeting with the man, or the closest to him you could get, not busy doing their job at all. They were busy tapping your pen against the glass tabletop of your desk, successfully annoying Wanda, who sent you an aggravated look from across the room.

“Seriously, Y/n?” Wanda moved from where she was at her desk, clearly not making a breakthrough on her article for this month's issue either. You could only shake your head in reply. Throwing your head back to stare at the ceiling, you starting explaining. “Maria gave me this huge article, Wanda. Cover! And, trust me, I know she’s testing me and doesn’t think I’ll actually be able to do it so she can fire me, or belittle me, or- or something! I don’t know what to do, help me, bestie.” As you finished rambling you looked up at her with your best puppy dog eyes, hoping for some of that amazing advice she gives.

Wanda laughed and pulled a chair over from an empty desk, sitting down and haphazardly throwing her feet on top of your cluttered tabletop. “She wouldn’t give you an article you couldn’t handle, she loves you, Y/n. If it’s truly as difficult as you’re making it out as that means that she knows you’re ready for it, and you’ll do amazing. Who’s it on anyway?”

She was doing such a good job at easing your nerves until she brought up the topic. You whined high in your throat and threw your head to the side before uttering, “Steven Rogers,” you turned your body back to Wanda, “What more do I need to say?” Her eyes widened just a little. “Sheesh...I’d start making phone calls, and praying, maybe?”

❀ ❀ ❀

“Hello, Miss. Carter, um- this is Y/n L/n with Shield Mag-“ “Please hold, dear.”

You pulled the phone away from your head and let it rest on your naked thigh, quickly pressing the speaker button. It was times like this when you were grateful that you let your grandma convince you to buy a house phone. Peggy Carter was the fifth person you’d contacted trying to get an interview with this man and she was the second lady that humored you enough to at least pretend like she’d get back to you.

She’s his main assistant so you might have better luck this time...

Thirty minutes later you had your head inches off the ground and your toes wiggling in the air. Humming the annoying hold music to yourself, you braided, unbraided, and re-braided a single strand of your hair. At thirty-nine minutes you were ready to give up until you heard a click on the other line.

You scrambled to turn off the speaker and press the phone back to your ear.

“Miss. Carter I was hoping to set up an interview with Mr. Rogers, over the phone, in person, or through email, if that’s possible?” You asked, hopeful that she wouldn’t shoot you down immediately like everyone else.

“Well, Magazine Girl, I only do in person. But I am a very busy man, so I need to know right away, what’s in it for me?” Your breath hitched and you almost fell and cracked your head open from how startled hearing his voice made you. Then, you nearly gave yourself a head rush from how fast you sat up.

“Well, um, Sir, you would get a headlining article, and uh, a cover on the June issue of Shield Magazine. That’s um, that’s if you want a cover- you don’t have to be on the cover if you don’t want to, just the interview would be mentioned on the cover, but-“ His chuckle was gritty and vivid, effective in stopping your babble. “I’ll see you Friday around noon. Goodbye Magazine Girl.” He hung up on you before you could even comprehend anything but that captivating laugh.

You rubbed at your eyes and grabbed your planner and pen. “Friday at noon...”

❀ ❀ ❀

The next day you were back in the office, sitting in Wanda’s stiff chair with twin caramel lattes sitting in front of you. That was the thing about you, you’d come to work early bearing gifts just to tell your closest friend your good news. You’re sweet like that.

When Wanda arrived it was fifteen minutes later and your latte was halfway gone. Hearing her black stilettos click on the glossy linoleum made you perk up immediately. As she approached, you stood, handing her the latte and wrapping your arms around her lithe body.

“I got an interview!” You squealed, rocking your bodies side to side. She stilled you and smiled. “Gosh, that’s great, Y/n. How’d you get it?”

“Well, I called, like everyone, and he picked up, Wanda! he picked up! I’m scheduled for Friday, and my Lord, Wanda, his laugh, it's like honey...” You trailed off, sighing at the thought of him. Your head was rested on her shoulder, a faint smile on your face. “You’ve got a crush on him!” Wanda exclaimed, grabbing your shoulders and holding you an arm's length away to get a good look at your bashful face.

You gasped, “No I do not! That would be totally unprofessional!” The cackle that erupted from her made her sound like the wicked witch of the west. And honestly, under her stare, you felt like Dorothy stuck under that house.

When Wanda was finally done laughing maliciously she let you go, plopping down in her desk chair and sipping her latte. She pointed over and your desk and gave you a look. “Better start drafting those questions... we wouldn’t want you to blank on your crush.” “Wanda!”

❀ ❀ ❀

The days leading up to Friday were excruciatingly long, yet the hours until twelve flew past all too quickly.

It seemed as if your wardrobe was never ending, full of clothes that you deemed inappropriate for a meeting with the CEO of American Enterprises. You threw yourself back onto the bed, hair and makeup done but body still wrapped in a fluffy white towel. “Oh Milky, what am I gonna wear?” The soft white kitty glared at you from the pillow she was perched on, meowing at you aggressively.

Ten thirty blinked on the clock and you sat up, glancing at all of the clothes that were scattered on the floor. “I guess this will do.” You picked up the same emerald blazer you had chosen originally and layered it over some basic Levi’s, and gray low cut blouse flowing over your form. A belt was necessary, so you grazed over your options. Brown wouldn’t go, even though it was your only fancy belt. The only black one you had was old, the leather cracked and worn, but it had to do. You slipped on some pretty black heels, lucky that you painted your toes a similar color to your blouse. After accessorizing you sprayed your signature perfume, the one that got you your first college-aged boyfriend, and the same one that you were wearing when you got your first real job.

By the time you were on the Metro, it was eleven o’ six, and you were worried. If you were late you’d lose this chance, and probably your job. The car stopped around eleven fifteen, giving you fifteen minutes to make your way to the building, check-in, and try to not seem so nervous.

Finding the building wasn’t difficult at all, after all, it is the second biggest building in New York City, competing with Stark Tower. The “A” at the top wasn’t illuminated, but it still stood out against the other buildings, cowering over them.

You found that the doors were heavy and if you denied Wanda of going to those burn boot camps you would have extreme difficulty prying them open. The inside was classy, just as you expected. The lamps had blue shades and the front desk lit up with a design that resembled the American Flag, but with less curved stripes and only one large star.

The receptionist was one of the women who shot you down immediately when you called and was a little surprised when you checked in. “Hello, I’m here for Mr. Rogers, twelve o’clock?” She searched for something on her computer, clearly trying to see if the appointment was legitimate. When you were proven correct, she handed you a temporary security badge and a sharpie to write your name on it. “Have a seat over there when you’re finished. I’ll call for you when Mr. Rogers is ready for you.” She smiled, it was fake, but it helped you feel more comfortable.

The red couch was stiff and small, clearly not meant for long periods of sitting. The badge was clipped onto your blouse, not your blazer, and the weight of it was pulling at the already low cut neckline. You thought about moving it, but your attention was quickly turned to the coffee table, where your magazine sat, opened to an article you wrote. Your hands were a little shaky as you went to close the magazine, but you were interrupted before you could grasp the bent pages.

“Miss. Y/n? Mr. Rogers is ready for your interview. Head up to floor thirty six, the door on the right.” Miss receptionist sounded bored, her eyes never left the monitor in front of her. “Thanks.”

Some of the others in the waiting area looked up to you after hearing where you were going, causing you to blush.

You felt lucky to get the elevator to yourself. Thirty-six floors is a long way to go, yet you got there in under three. In the elevator you adjusted your outfit and flattened your hair, hoping it wasn’t frizzy.

The door on the right was clearly not just a meeting room but an office, which you thought was odd. You also found it odd that no one was in the room, you expected to at least be met with his assistant or secretary, if not Steve himself.

Your eyes scanned the room to make sure it was completely empty before taking a seat on the leather chair on the opposite side of the big desk. You opened your notebook and got out your lucky rooster pen before going over your questions once again, hoping he didn’t think they were stupid.

You waited fifteen minutes for him, growing increasingly irked as the minutes built up. When he walked through the door you felt like your heart stopped.

Six-four build covered in a black suit and tie, white undershirt pristine. Blonde hair disheveled and a perfectly manicured beard. The door slammed shut and you heard the clinking sound of a glass being set down. Steve lifted his head and you snapped yours to the front, hoping he didn’t catch you checking him out.

The room was silent besides a rustling coming from behind you. You busied yourself with your notebook, highlighting the questions you wanted to ask most.

“You’re a very patient girl.” He observed. Steve made you wait on purpose. He knew from the first person you called that you wanted an interview, he was friends with Maria Hill after all. But he wanted some entertainment, and after looking into you, he knew you were the right girl. So far he’s made you wait an hour and fourteen minutes for just a smidge of his attention.

“Yes, Sir.” You mumbled, accidentally stopping the highlighter too soon, pressing it down, and letting the pink ink bleed to the next page. He hummed in approval as he rounded the corner, drink in his hand, coat jacket discarded, sleeves rolled up, first couple buttons loose. Finally, Steve sat in the big chair, keeping eye contact with you as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on the mahogany table.

“Give me that.” Your eyebrows furrowed at his statement, “What?” You asked, putting your pen down on your lap. Steve motioned for your notebook, and you opened your mouth, starting to stumble over your words. “Oh? um- Okay?” You handed it over to him and he relaxed back into his chair. A question bubbled in your throat, but you didn’t let it escape. Instead, you watched as his eyes scanned the papers, blue cursive, and pink highlighter, little stars and flowers drawn in the corners. “Mr. Rogers, are you ready to start the interview?” You tapped your watch, twelve twenty four.

He nodded, “Yes, I’m ready.” You cleared your throat and went to ask for your notebook, but he beat you to it. “Miss. L/n, is there an achievement or something that you’ve contributed to me that you are most proud of?” Why was he asking you your own questions? “Sir, I-“ He cut you off once again. “Answer the question, doll.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “I- um, no. I haven’t contributed anything to you that I should be proud of, Sir.”

“Is there a particular moment or memory of building this relationship that stands out to you?” He continued with the questions, tilting his head to the side. Why was he twisting the questions onto you? When you didn’t come up with an answer he chuckled, sounding sickly sweet like molasses dripping straight from the sugarcane. “Patience finally wearing thin, honey?” You nodded eyes staring at his chest, you couldn’t quite muster up the courage to look him in the eye.

He snapped your notebook closed and slid it towards your side of the grand desk. “You couldn’t answer my questions correctly, Y/n.” You nodded, eyes now downcast, admiring the pattern on the blue carpet. You felt like you were going to cry. This big scary man was mean and just wouldn’t let you conduct your interview and you didn’t know why. “I’m sorry, Sir.”

“I know you are, doll. But, if you can’t answer my questions how can I answer yours? You have nothing to offer me.” This was it, you were losing your chance. “Business wise, that is.” Your head shook, and your hands were clasped together, your left thumb rubbing your right nail back and forth. “I don’t understand, Sir.”

“I’m friends with Maria, Y/n. If you’re able to get this article done and get me on the cover you’re gonna get a promotion, you want that, right doll?” Your eyes went wide, “Yes, Sir.” Now, he stood, coming around to the front where you are and leaning against the desk. “She said to make it difficult, but I don’t care enough to do all that. So, doll, I’ll answer your questions. They’re quite good actually. And I’ll do a little photoshoot for the cover, but you’ll need to pay me back.” You gulped, hands suddenly sweaty, you felt like a little chihuahua, trembling under his gaze.

“How? Um, how do I pay you?” Gosh, even your voice was shaky. “Stand up. Lose the blazer.” Steve commanded, slowly unbuckling his belt. You could faintly tell from the buckle that it was Hermès. You stood and took off your blazer in a rush, folding it poorly and setting it on the arm of the chair. “Atta girl.”

He placed his hands on your shoulders and then ran them down to your hands, giving them a little squeeze before he hooked his index fingers into your belt loops, pulling you closer. So close that the tips of your shoes were touching. He leaned down to kiss your neck and you stiffened, but when he grazed his teeth over the bruised spot he just created you melted into him, your hands grasping at the pristine white button up, letting out a little whimper.

Steve pushed you back a little and took in your form, then he pulled the little security badge off, tossing it to the side. Like a little kid, he pulled at the neckline of your shirt. “Off.” You would’ve giggled at him if he didn’t look so scary right now. His blue eyes were piercing into yours, left hand so tight on your hip you thought he might leave bruises.

By the time your shirt hit the floor, he was pushing at your shoulders, hinting at you to go to your knees. “Sir, I don’t know-“

You started, knees hitting the carpet underneath you. He shushed you and guided your head to look up at him. “It's okay, baby, you don’t have to know how. I’ll do all the work, doll. Now, undo your bra.” As expected you did as he asked immediately, fumbling with the clasp until it fell down your arms. It ended up next to your thigh as you watched him pull his belt through the loops.

Steve walked around you and kneeled down, belt in his hands. “Put your hands behind your back.” You nodded immediately, so submissive, completely at his mercy. “Yes, Sir.” Steve loved how polite you were. He made quick work of restraining you, tying your hands to rest against your jean clad ass. The metal felt harsh against your skin and the soft, expensive leather snaked up your arms.

When he was back in front of you he sighed and shook his head. “I should’ve had you unzip me first.” Hearing Steve say that finally brought you to the reality of what was about to happen. You watched with big eyes as he undid the button and then the zipper, the sound making you tremble. His dress pants puddled on the floor and you were in awe as he massaged his bulge through his boxers. Slowly, he pulled them down to the middle of his thighs. His cock bounced up to hit his abdomen and he hissed as he stroked it a few times. “Open as wide as you can, honey.”

As always, you did as asked. Your tongue stuck out a little, wetting your bottom lip. He grasped the back of your head and leaned you forward a little, then you felt his blunt tip on your tongue. You gagged and spluttered when Steve was about halfway seated, he pulled out and leaned down, kissing you sloppily. “Breathe through your nose, baby. Don’t forget.” Then he was back at slowly entering your throat. “Fuck...” he grunted, finally fully seated in your throat, your nose pressed against his nicely groomed pubic hair. He caressed your throat then, rubbing the bulge in your throat, resisting the urge to press down and have you choke on his cock even more. “So good, Y/n.”

Steve started rocking into your throat, slowly fucking it as spit leaked from the corners of your mouth. After minutes of abusing your throat, he finally pulled out, adoring the way tears ran down your cheeks and how you hiccupped, wanting to desperately rub at your raw throat to soothe it. Your hands pulled at the belt and your eyes begged Steve to undo it. “Up, doll.”

He hoisted you up from your armpits and bent you over the desk. Steve pressed kisses down your back and reached in front of you, unbuckling your belt and throwing it somewhere to the left of you, then he unbuttoned and unzipped your pants, tugging them down with fervor.

Steve undid your restraints and left more kisses down your back until he reached your ass, spreading your cheeks to reveal your tight hole and glistening cunt. “I’d love to see this ass all bruised and red, but I’ll have to save that for another day.” His index and middle finger ran circles on your clit, your back arching to press into him more. “Sir, please!” You gasped, your hand flying out to the edge of the table and nearly knocking over the glass of whiskey he left on a coaster when Steve finally pushed two fingers into your aching hole.

“Gotta open you up first, doll, get you all sloppy and ready for my cock.” You cried out as he hooked his fingers, rubbing the magic spot inside of you. “Please, Steve, please.” He cooed at you, pulling his fingers out, and instead traced his name over your clit. “You gonna come, baby? Huh? You gonna drench my fingers, little girl?” You were moaning in wanton, hips humping his hand desperately. He brought his other hand down and started fingerfucking you again, giving you just enough to push you over the edge.

Your moans were breathy, your legs twitching, and you were panting by the time your orgasm faded. “I hope you know I’m not done with you yet, doll, I still haven’t come inside you.” That made you whine high in your throat and you tried, to no avail, to slam your legs shut around his hand.

Steve’s right hand fisted his cock a few times, making sure he’s rock hard and dripping with pre-cum, while his left kept your lips spread, showing him your gorgeous pussy. The blunt head at your entrance shocked you, and you yelped at the intrusion. “Sir!”

He leaned his head down and spit where you were joined, trying to make the glide even easier. “Shut up, doll.” He snapped after you cried out. Once he was as deep as possible inside of you he reached for his belt, looping it over as if he was going to spank you, and stuffed it into your mouth. “Bite down,” Steve demanded, a hand snaked around to the front of your neck where he was applying light pressure.

When you tried to push back against him he held your hips down against the wood steadily and started snapping his hips at a fast speed. Each thrust pushed you down onto the table, letting your clit rub against the mahogany wood.

Your vision felt spacey like you could black out any moment as he choked you. Your orgasm washed over you and you had to use all the strength you had in you to keep biting down on the belt. You didn’t want to know what would happen if you disobeyed his and let it go. Steve’s hips harshly snapped against your ass a few more times before he stilled inside of you, filling you with his spunk.

Before Steve cleaned you up and let you leave his office he had to finger his cum back inside of you, making sure none of it went to waste. Then, he made sure you had a way home, and a way to contact him, because, “Now you’re no longer Magazine Girl, but My Girl.”

@lo-bells

#steve x reader #steve rogers x reader #steve smut #steve rogers smut #dark!steve #dark!steve x reader #marvel #avengers fanfic #captain america #ceo!au #chris evans #leah-bobeea

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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years ago

Text

Make A Scene

AMHL – Masterlist

Dick immediately noticed when Y/N started getting quieter and quieter as they got closer and closer to the venue.

Bruce had hired a driver to pick them up from their apartment in Gotham. And the car had gone quiet now.

Dick reached over to gently hold her hand.

“Nervous?” He asked.

Y/N shrugged, not really seeing the point in trying to lie to her boyfriend.

“This isn’t your first rodeo, ya know.”

She gave him a look. “You know that wasn’t the same.” Her eyes flickered to the driver. “I wasn’t exactly…myself. And I wasn’t your girlfriend.”

Also, tonight they didn’t have the security and comfort of being at Wayne Manor.

No, instead this particular event was being held at the ballroom of Gotham’s most extravagant five-star hotel. It was a party for Wayne Enterprises, not a personal charity or party of the Wayne family.

Bruce had kindly asked Dick and Y/N to attend when board members and business partners started asking if the whole family would be attending. Jason hadn’t answered anyone’s calls or texts about it. None of them expected him to show up. Tim had to attend since he worked for Wayne Enterprises. And Damian…Well, Damian was his father’s son and not yet an adult. He basically had to do whatever Bruce asked of him while he lived under his roof.

“I’m not gonna leave your side,” Dick promised.

He squeezed her hand to further emphasize it.

Their car pulled up to the carpet at the bottom of the stairs.

There had to be a hundred journalists and photographers, along with random civilians who had nothing better to do than to see Gotham’s elite get out of cars and walk into a hotel.

Dick took in a deep breath.

Thankfully the car’s windows were tinted and protected them from any onlookers.

“Ready?” He asked her.

She nodded.

Dick opened the door and ignored the screams and flashes as he carefully helped Y/N out of the car with his offered hand. He also shielded her from the photographers to give her a moment to get out and adjust herself before they could capture any photos of her.

“Mr. Grayson! Mr. Grayson! Who is your mystery girlfriend?” Someone yelled.

Sometimes Y/N forgot that Dick was somewhat of a celebrity in Gotham City through association.

It wasn’t like people were asking for selfies everywhere he went. Or that the paparazzi were following his every move.

But in Gotham, people took note of where Dick Grayson went and who he was with.

And everyone noticed he’d had the same woman on his arm for quite some time now.

Even though Y/N and Dick had been dating for over a year, the media still couldn’t figure out Y/N’s identity.

What they didn’t realize was that she controlled every single piece of information about herself that lived on the internet.

They didn’t stand a chance.

Dick smiled and waved at people who called his name. But his hand other hand never left Y/N’s as he helped her up the stairs.

“Who are you wearing?” A female journalist yelled at Y/N.

She ignored them and focused on getting up the stairs without tripping and face planting. Not that Dick would ever let that happen.

However, she knew her outfit was going to draw gazes.

Y/N had made a promise to herself that if she was going to be forced to attend events like this with Dick, then she was going make a statement. People were already going to be staring at her, so she figured she might as well give them something good to stare at.

Instead of wearing a typical cocktail and formal dress, Y/N wore a full men’s suit that was tailored to perfection, but with the bowtie undone. It was what the fashion magazines would describe as “androgynous” in the press tomorrow morning.

Y/N wanted to control her own narrative. And she’d rather be judged for her bold decisions than just her trying to blend in.

Bruce insisted on paying for all the boys’ date’s dresses – in this case, suit – if they happened to bring one. He always thought it was more of an incentive for them to attend these terrible events if he encouraged them to bring significant others. And the press always had a field day with it, which only helped throw people of their trail when it came to their secret lives as vigilantes.

Everyone kept screaming Dick’s name as they walked in, and Y/N wondered how he got so good at smiling through the chaos and ignoring them.

Once they were inside, Dick felt the tension leave Y/N’s body a bit.

“Alcohol?” He offered with a smirk.

“Yes, please.”

He nodded, knowing it was exactly what she needed.

Quickly, he grabbed two champagne flutes off a passing waiter.

They clinked glasses.

Then he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “Thank you for being my date.”

Y/N smiled at his sincerity.

Dick sighed before he threw back the champagne, “The quicker we find Bruce and prove we were here, the sooner we can leave.”

“Try not to sound so excited,” she laughed darkly.

Suddenly felt a small human wrap around her thighs.

Y/N gasped in excitement, “Dami!”

Dick smiled as he looked down at his 10-year-old brother hugging his girlfriend.

“Dick gave me the drawing you made for us. It’s so beautiful. I’m trying to find the perfect frame for it,” she told the boy.

Damian beamed with pride at that.

Suddenly the boy started asking a million questions about Stoker, one of his kittens that he’d given to them to take care of when Bruce gave a limit to how many cats Damian was allowed to have in the manor.

Then, to Dick’s shock, he saw Jason slowly walk over to them with his hands in his pant pockets.

He was not at all dressed nice enough for the event. No suit jacket. No tie. His white button-up shirt wrinkled, messily tucked into his pants, and with two many buttons undone. The sloppiness of it all clearly wasn’t an issue with the women, seeing as all of them were ogling Jason.

“Todd,” Damian greeted coldly, pausing his conversation with Y/N, who whipped around at the name.

“Hey, you,” Y/N smiled as she went to greet him.

Jason gave her a friendly kiss on the cheek and a quick hug.

“I really didn’t think you were coming,” Dick told his brother.

“Well, I wasn’t. But I got a business engagement.”

Y/N and Dick shared a confused look.

“What do you mean?” Dick asked.

“I found my neighbor crying on her fire escape a few nights ago. Apparently… one of the finance bros of Wayne fucking Enterprises was everything but a gentleman to her.”

Y/N’s eyes widened in realization. “J, I already took care of that.”

“I know,” Jason nodded as his eyes scanned the room. He was clearly on a personal mission tonight. “You deleted the evidence. I am teaching him a lesson.”

Dick slowly put together what they were implying.

“Oh, please don’t make a scene, Jason.” Dick begged him.

Because he knew Bruce wouldn’t be dealing with the aftermath; it would be him.

“Don’t worry!” Jason laughed. "I’m gonna take him outside before I beat the shit out of him. No one here will even notice. It’ll be fine,” Jason assured him as he gave Dick a far too heavy slap on the back.

“Just tell Bruce and he’ll get him fired,” Dick tried to convince him to take the less violent route.

“Oh, we already did,” Y/N muttered.

Dick’s gaze shot to his girlfriend.

“He’s getting fired on Monday,” she clarified sheepishly.

“Since when do the two of you work together behind my back?” Dick accused them.

But he wasn’t actually mad about anything – maybe just a little bit bitter.

Jason opened his mouth.

“I swear to God, Jason, if you say ‘club business,’ I will lose it…” Dick warned.

Y/N tried to hide her smile.

“Got him,” Jason growled as he glared at someone on the other side of the room.

As soon as he left them, Dick gave Y/N his full attention.

“Seriously?” He accused.

“I’m sorry! He asked me for a favor and I was happy to do it once I realized what it was,” Y/N defended.

Dick pouted a little. Mostly because he hated being left out.

“Don’t worry, ya big baby. I’m still your ‘guy in the chair’ and no one else’s,” she teased before giving him a kiss, immediately wiping the lipstick off his lips.

“How come Jason gets to beat up people at events like this, but I’m expected to behave like a well-trained dog?” Damian mumbled.

Dick sighed and shook his head.

“Jason likes to think he’s a lone wolf who doesn’t have to play by the rules,” Y/N tried to comfort the boy.

To distract Damian from getting further into how unfair it was, Y/N asked him to show her more of his drawings.

This seemed to please Damian and he pulled his phone out, flipping through photos and showing Y/N his recent sketches.

With Y/N being entertained by his youngest brother, Dick decided to go to the bar and get the two of them a stronger drink and maybe get a kiddie cocktail for Damian. He’d pretend to be patronized and annoyed by it, but Dick knew better.

He patiently waited for the bartender’s attention.

“So Gotham’s Golden Boy really has returned…” a husky voice uttered beside him at the bar.

Dick glanced over to see a beautiful woman close to his age eyeing him.

It was clear what she wanted. Dick used tactics like this on countless missions.

“So I have,” he answered.

He was polite, but distant.

Women hitting on him at events like this was nothing new. To Gotham, Dick Grayson was a Bruce Wayne 2.0 – younger, just as charming and handsome as his mentor and stand-in father figure.

Dick knew how to play the game. But he never had any interest in casual relationships like Bruce did.

“Back for good?” The woman persisted.

“My girlfriend and I are just in town for a few weeks,” he answered before ordering his drinks with the bartender finally.

“Oh, brought up the girlfriend rather quickly,” she laughed.

Dick quirked an eyebrow. “Is that a problem?”

“No, it’s just…my friends and I had a bet going.”

Then she pointed to a group of three young women, who were giggling and smiling, not even trying to pretend like they weren’t watching them closely.

“Oh, yeah?” Dick asked, already tired of this conversation.

Jason had already rejoined Y/N and Damian.

Y/N looked down to see his knuckles red with irritation and bruised.

“Please tell me there’s not a corpse in the alley behind this hotel now…” Y/N sighed.

“No,” Jason answered coldly. “Though there fucking should be.”

“What did he do?” Damian asked curiously, clearly he hadn’t been listening to their earlier conversation that closely.

Y/N shifted her weight in discomfort, not sure how to handle the subject with the boy. Yes, Damian was far more mature than many grown men, but he was still just a kid. There were some things Y/N felt like they should at least try to protect him from still.

“He got my neighbor too drunk to consent, filmed them having sex without her knowing it, and then showed it to a bunch of people at their work,” Jason answered bluntly.

Damian’s brow furrowed, clearly thinking long and hard about what his brother just told him.

After a moment, the boy perked up, “I know where we could hide the body so even father won’t find out.”

“Damian!” Y/N scolded.

But Jason was beaming.

Y/N looked around for Dick, hoping to find another sane person to stop the two boys from actually murdering anyone tonight.

But when she finally spotted him, she saw a woman standing far too close to Dick and pointing to a group of girls who flirtatiously waved and winked at both of them.

“Real cute,” Y/N muttered to herself.

“Vultures,” Damian growled as he followed her gaze.

“Jason, if I leave you alone with Damian, are you going to kill someone?” She asked without taking her eyes off her boyfriend.

“I don’t need to be watched,” Damian groaned.

“No, I need you to watch Jason to make sure he doesn’t change his mind about keeping that asshole alive.”

“Fine,” Damian whined.

Without any further confirmation, Y/N left them.

She walked across the party on a mission, never taking her stare off of her boyfriend.

Dick did a double take when he noticed her heading towards him.

“Hey,” he greeted innocently.

Because he was innocent. All he’d done was be polite to a bunch of women who were after him for his name…and maybe his good looks.

“I was wondering where my drink was,” Y/N said with a surprising calmness and smile.

Then she turned to the woman.

“Hi, I’m Y/N. You must be a friend of Dick’s.”

She held her hand out.

No cattiness. No rudeness.

Y/N said it with the same kindness that drunk women having with other drunk women in bar bathrooms.

“Oh…I’m Irina,” the woman stuttered as she took Y/N’s offered hand, clearly confused by Y/N’s niceness.

Dick held out her drink.

Y/N took it, quickly clinked her glass with both Dick and Irina.

“Cheers,” she sang before tossing it back and chugging the drink that was meant to be slowly sipped.

Dick didn’t know what game his girlfriend was playing, but he was intrigued.

Once Y/N lightly placed her empty glass back on the bar, she turned to Dick and tilted her head to the side. “Could you show me to the bathrooms? I have no idea where they are.”

“Of course,” Dick answered without knowing where this was going.

“It was nice meeting you, Irina,” Y/N told the woman as she linked her fingers with Dick’s and guided him away.

—

Meanwhile, Jason watched the interaction as if he were watching an award-winning movie. Him and Damian were way too far to hear, but everyone in the bat family could read lips more than fluently.

Then Jason smirked as he watched Y/N drag Dick away.

“Boys,” Bruce greeted as he snuck up on the two of them. “What are we staring at?”

“Oh, you know,” Jason hummed with hilarity, “just watching Y/N assert her dominance.”

“Good for her,” Bruce grinned as he realized what was happening.

He moved his attention to his youngest boy. “Alfred is waiting outside with the car. You’re officially released from your duties.”

“Finally,” Damian groaned.

“Don’t you wanna say bye to Y/N?” Jason asked.

“They’re coming to the manor tomorrow afternoon,” Bruce answered for his son. Then he raised a brow at Jason. “You’re welcome to join us.”

Jason’s only response was a shrug.

Bruce tried to hide his disappointment and nodded before he guided Damian away and walked him outside, where Alfred was waiting.

10 minutes later, Jason saw Dick trailing behind Y/N as she walked back to the main area of the event.

Jason burst out laughing at the spectacle.

Dick’s hair was an absolute mess. Half of his shirt was untucked. His jacket was draped over his forearm. His lips were swollen and pink. Y/N had left lipstick all over his neck and even a bit on the collar of his shirt.

Yet somehow not a single hair was out of place on Y/N and her makeup was still immaculate. Her outfit was just as sleek and clean as when she’d arrived. The only thing different was the proud smirk on her lips.

Clearly Y/N had just had her way with Dick.

But she wanted to make sure the whole party knew about it.

—

Y/N hadn’t said a word to Dick since she dragged him from that woman.

Her body did all the talking.

One second they were at the bathroom doors, the next Y/N had thrown him against the tiled wall after locking the bathroom door.

She gave no verbal explanation, just started kissing him and undoing his pants.

“Not that I’m complaining. Like, at all,” Dick laughed as they rejoined the party. “But wanna to tell me what that was all about?”

Y/N finally stopped walking and turned to face him with narrowed eyes. “I think you know, Richard.”

Y/N only ever used his full first name to provoke and tease him. And he hated that it worked every single time.

Dick glanced around to see that everyone in their vicinity was eyeing them. Well, they were mostly eyeing him and how it was clear he’d just been fucked in the bathroom.

He stepped close to her and lowered his voice, “Ohhh, I see how it is.” His eyes flickered down to her lips for a split second. “If a guy does that, he’s jealous and possessive. But if a woman does it, it’s sexy…”

Y/N proudly smiled like the cheshire cat. “Exactly.”

Something over his shoulder caught her attention. “Oh, I see Tim. I’m going to go say hi.”

Without hesitation, she brushed past him.

Dick let his head fall, put his hands on his hips, and laughed.

He’d pay her back later tonight. And by ‘pay her back,’ he would just tell her how incredibly hot her behavior had been and basically invite her to do it whenever she damn well pleased.

Dick felt a presence beside him, and he didn’t have to raise his head to know it was Bruce.

“Hey,” Dick greeted him nonchalantly.

“You have lipstick all over your neck,” Bruce told him as he took a sip of his drink and looked around the party. “And your zippers down.”

“Sure is,” Dick sighed.

--------------------------

OK. This was way too fun to write.

Let me know what you think!!!

ALL BONUS CONTENT CAN BE FOUND: HERE

#all men have limits #AMHL bonus content #make a scene extension #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson reader insert #nightwing x reader #nightwing reader insert #jason todd and platonic!reader #jason todd x platonic!reader #batfam #batboys #bruce wayne x platonic!reader #bruce wayne and reader

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sailorsero · 4 years ago

Text

nothin’ else like this - nsfw

author: claire (@sailorsero) ship: solo adult bakugou katsuki, dash of adult bakugou x gender neutral reader, side adult kaminari denki x adult shinsou hitoshi prompt/genre: birthday & food kink themed solo play wordcount: 2887 warnings: explicit sexual content, swearing, kink, food fetish/food kink/sploshing a/n: • written for the Bakugou’s Birthday Bash Collaboration - check out the masterlist to see everyone elses!) • shoutout to @foolishfortuna who is writing an amazing food fetish kiribaku that inspired me to write this kink • i do not give permission for this (or any of my writing) to be reposted, by anyone, on this or any other website. please don’t do it! • title from ‘birthday cake’ by rihanna

nothin’ else like this *** pinkyofficial • HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE BLASTIEST BOY IN THE GALAXY!!! @explosiongoddynamight LOVE YOU!!! 💥🧡🍹🎂😘 CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOU AND GET TURNT WITH MAH BOYSSS!!! BAKUSQUAD BABY!!! 👬🧍‍♀️👬 GO TELL DYNAMIGHT HAPPT BIRTHDAY Y’ALL!!! #dynamight #pinky #birthdaybitch

its_cellophane: happt birthday @explosiongoddynamight pinkyofficial: @its_cellophane suddenly we’re a squad of 4 #cellowho theredriot: Look at us 🥺 can’t wait to celebrate together, love you guys!!! happy birthday bro @explosiongoddynamight ♥️ chargebolt: But can we get #birthdaybitch trending tho?? 🤔

Bakugou tutted, flicking through the photos Mina had posted to Instagram. One from last years Hero Gala, with Tweedle Dumb, Dumber and Dumbest crowded into his personal space - all smiles, suits and champagne flutes. A post-graduation selfie with the woman herself, where he felt so triumphant at moving onto the next stage of his quest to become #1, that he hadn’t even objected to the filter that gave them huge eyelashes and bear ears. A couple from their most recent meetups, candids from their school days (mostly taken without his knowledge, let alone permission; the only one that he was posing for featured a double middle finger that had set Iida off for a good fifteen minutes), one from a photoshoot his publicist had strong armed him into and his friends had christened ‘The Great Bakugou Thirst Trap of 2020’.

Bakugou did not consider himself a sentimental person, or someone who placed a great deal of importance on his own birthday; he hadn’t even made any fuss when you told him you were needed in Osaka for a mission that would take you away two days before he turned 24.

But he couldn’t help but go back to the first photo of the bunch, allowing himself a soft smile he would deny under oath.

His 17th birthday, his first birthday with - ugh - real friends. He remembered rolling his eyes when Racoon Eyes had given her blindingly pink phone to the waitress, yelling at Sparky and Tape Face when they’d shoved themselves into the same side of the booth as the rest of them, growling when Shitty Hair had told him to ‘say ‘cheese’, Bakubro!’.

They all looked so young, pre-undercuts and piercings and late teenage growth spurts. He’d have to remember the (very secret) happiness that night had brought him next time Kirishima annoyed him by stepping mud into his carpet or Kaminari pissed him off by opening his big fat mouth.

Bakugou was drawn from his thoughts by knocking on his office door. Knocking that started out strong for the first hit, dropping noticeably into something more tentative for the rest; probably once they remembered whose door they were knocking on. Kirishima had once told him that the interns drew straws on who had to ‘rattle the beast’s cage’ (interact with Bakugou). He’d know; that idiot had been rattling Bakugou’s cage 25/8 since their first year at Yuuei.

“Come in!”

The door opened far enough for an assistant who had already been by this morning with a sack of birthday cards mixed in with regular fan mail to poke their head through the gap.

“Mr Dynamight, Sir, there’s another delivery for you.”

Bakugou nodded, leaning back in his leather desk chair and stretching out his back. Damn paperwork day, and on his birthday. Fuck, was 24 the age your back started aching from sitting in a goddamn chair?!

The assistant continued as they approached the desk, despite the fact that Bakugou didn’t fucking ask.

“It’s a cake, from a lovely bakery downtown; a delivery person just dropped it off. Their cakes are exquisite, by all accounts.”

They stepped back from the desk once the baby blue box was securely placed down, a white satin ribbon wound expertly around it. An embossed logo Bakugou recognised shone under the overhead light.

The blonde’s quirk made short work of the ribbon, burning it idly with one hand so the rest could be severed with ease.

Bakugou flipped the lid of the box up, letting it fall fully open so he could inspect the contents. He blinked. He blinked again.

It was a cake. A strawberry shortcake, slathered with cream and fresh fruit, and perfectly placed in the centre was a chocolate disc with immaculately piped words.

♡ HAPPY BIRTHDAY DYNAMIGHT ♡

“It’s from your fanclub!”

He let his eyes drift back up to the assistant, who - from what Bakugou could infer from the overly positive, cheery tone he was using - clearly thought Bakugou was seconds away from blasting the expensive gateau across his office, and was trying to avert having to call the janitorial staff back up to this floor. He understood; unbridled, perhaps not-always-reasonable rage was kind of his brand, and the cleaners had already had to make a return journey today after Kaminari had set off several sprinklers making toast.

A cake. Yes, a cake. From his fanclub. A cake from his fanclub. That he was definitely going to eat and nothing else, nothing weird! A cake for him to eat. At home. In private. As soon as possible.

“That’s-” He cleared his throat and tried again. “That’s...great. It looks delicious...yes. Thanks. That’s all. You can...go.”

The assistant looked like they were struggling to process the combination of words that had just left Bakugou, but he was pleased when they decided to take this struggle on the road and left his office with a rushed “Yes, Mr Dynamight, Sir, thank you, you are welcome, good bye!” and the click of the office door.

Bakugou barely had time to drag his fingers through his hair, letting out a breath he had apparently been holding since he’d spoken, before the door opened again.

“Knock knock!” “You know he says it doesn’t count if you say it instead of doing it, especially if you’ve already open- Denki!”

Bakugou groaned as Kaminari shot across the room, peering into the still-open box on the desk. “Ooh, that looks amazing, bro! Can I have some?”

“Hey, Kats! Happy birthday, man!” Kirishima beamed at him before dropping his gaze to the cake Kaminari was currently eyefucking. Bakugou slid the box an inch or two closer to himself. He steadfastly ignored the other blonde’s question.

“Thanks, Ei. What’s Dunce Face doing here - world’s worst birthday present?”

Kirishima snorted, clapping Kaminari on the shoulder. “Ran into him a few blocks away on our patrols; figured we’d catch you now to say ‘happy birthday’ on the actual day instead of waiting for Saturday!”

Kaminari brought out what he probably considered the big guns; his finger guns, that he did for literally everything. “Happy birthday, Blasty! Speaking of your birthday, where did the cake come from? Sent with luuurve from Osaka? Although, that would be weird because you don’t even really like sweets and this won’t keep until Saturday when we get togeth-“

“It’s from my fanclub, Pikachu, and keep your staticky hands off my cake!” Bakugou flipped the lid back down, shielding the cake from view.

“Man, don’t be like that - there’s no way you’re gonna be able to eat all that by yourself!” Kaminari whined.

“Relax, Denks - you know Y/N has a cake ordered for Bakubro’s Belated Birthday Blowout!” Kirishima patted his back consolingly.

“I really wish you’d all stop calling it that. God, letting you guys have their number was a fucking mistake.”

Kaminari looked thoughtful; it was terrifying. “You know, I heard, one time, a hero got given a homemade cake by a fan, and when they took a bite of it, they realised they had a mouth full of the fan’s pubic hair!”

“Dude!” “What the everloving fuck, Dunce Face?!”

Kaminari just beamed, apparently proud of himself for making Bakugou question his life on the anniversary of his birth.

“Firstly, does this cake look fucking homemade to you? Secondly, where the fuck did you read that? ‘Disgusting Stories for Stupid Fucking Idiots Monthly’?”

Kaminari shrugged, nonplussed. “Sero told me.”

“Yes, then. Same thing, pretty much.”

Kirishima interrupted, looking thoughtful. “If you think Bakubro’s cake is full of pubes, why do you want to eat it?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had a mouthful of pubes, bro! ‘Toshi’s more of an au naturel kind of guy…”

Bakugou saw Kirishima’s (painful looking) thinking face intensify, and intervened immediately. “Ei, do not pull at this thread. He-“ Bakugou punctuated with a harsh jab towards the electric hero. “- has told us several times that he’s had Mindfucker’s dirty feet in his mouth before, not to mention all the bodily fluids, and then there’s all the disgusting public places they’ve fucked, and-“

“Don’t kinkshame me, bruh!” Kaminari cut in, sounding lowkey offended, but Bakugou noted the look of pride from before hadn’t diminished, even a little bit.

Bakugou snorted. He constantly shamed Kaminari and his walking corpse of a boyfriend, but that was because they were shamelessly disgusting oversharing nymphomaniacs and someone had to do it. Preferably before one of them creamed their pants in a karaoke bar again. That was Shinkami shaming, not kinkshaming.

He definitely had no room to kinkshame people; not with the plans he had for this cake.

***

Bakugou slammed the door to his apartment shut with his hip and laid the bakery box down on the side table so he could make quick work of his boots and jacket.

God, that had to have been the longest taxi ride of his life. He couldn’t risk the subway with such a precious cargo, so he’d had to sit in the back of the cab next to the box (that he’d had to resist the urge to belt in) and sweat in silence.

Bakugou didn’t know where this kink had come from - maybe he’d watched too much Food Network in his formative years, or passing by the bakery with the amazing smell opposite his junior high school twice a day for three years before going home to jerk it had warped his sexuality; all he knew was, he was gonna fuck this cake.

It was a shame that you were miles and miles away and unavailable for a Facetime like no other; introducing you to his kink had been one of the best weekends of his life, and he was pretty sure - if he knows you as well as he thinks he does - you’d placed an order for two birthday cakes for his belated celebrations.

Maybe you’d got other stuff in mind, too - pie, custard, ice cream, syrups, chocolate, sushi, spaghetti, fruit…and now he was half-hard, still fully dressed and standing in the hallway.

Well, you weren’t here now, but it was his birthday, dammit! He would just have to play alone, and send you some photos afterwards.

Bakugou seized the box and made quick strides until he could place it down on his bedside table.

The comforter flew off of the bed, pooling into a lavish lump on the floor right before the pillows landed one by one on top. The undersheet was last, leaving the rubber sheet beneath exposed to one of the only two people who knew it was there in the first place.

The box made its final move to the middle of the protected mattress, where Bakugou tilted it just enough to be able to coax the cake free with help from gravity and without getting it all over his hands. Not yet…

Bakugou made short work of his clothes, kicking his pants and briefs off impatiently a second before climbing onto the bed and kneeling beside his prize.

Normally, he’d take his time, play around more, have more of a plan, but today, the anticipation had him on a knife edge already. It had been nearly four hours since he’d unwrapped this gift, and he was dying to play with it.

Bakugou leant his knees spread apart, sinking into a squat so he was as close as he could get to his treat.

He was fully hard now, and gave his cock a couple of quick pumps, letting his fist settle loosely from the base down as he took a deep breath and brought his leaking tip to the side of the cake.

His breath left him in a quick rush when the first contact was made; the cream was on the cooler side, and the smooth finish of the outside of the cake was everything he had been missing since he’d last indulged himself like this.

It took all the self control Bakugou had to only push the head in, then pause and take a breath, focusing intently on every sensation as he pushed in as slowly as was physically possible.

The afternoon of waiting felt like edging, so the sensation against his cock, inch by inch, was almost too much as it was not enough.

The sponge was almost as soft and velvety as the cream, but providing some texture and resistance that felt as delicious as the dessert looked.

Bakugou let out the first of many moans as he bottomed out, the air in the bedroom already beginning to smell like sugar and strawberries - just the right side of cloying, and he knew before long it would be so heady he’d be dizzy from it.

He pulled out almost as slowly as he went in, raising himself back up a little and bracing himself with his hands on the other side of the intact cake, leaving him looking over it on his hands and knees.

His reentry at a slightly higher point of the cake wasn’t quite as slow as the first breach, but he’s never been known for his patience.

Bakugou pulled in and out a couple of times, leaving a clear hole to fuck as he began to do just that, his hips begnining to thrust in a steady rhythm.

It didn’t take long for the squishy sounds coming from between his legs to turn into sloppy ones; the delicate cake was beginning to buckle already, the defined layers enveloping his cock becoming mushy around him.

Balancing his weight on one arm, he swiped his now-free hand across the top of the cake, coming away with as generous a handful of cream and strawberry slices as he could without threatening the structural integrity of the cake prematurely.

Bakugou raised his hand and smacked it right into the middle of his chest, before smearing it across his right pec, rubbing purposefully over his nipple as he did so. His hips sped up slightly without intention - or him noticing - as he alternated between smearing the food deeper into his flushed skin, and tugging on his nipple.

He could hear whimpering in his ears and it took a beat or two for Bakugou to realise they were coming from him. Fuck, it all just felt so good.

He blindly grabbed another small handful, this time coming away with some cake mixed into his spoils, before repeating the treatment on his left pec, but with a roughness borne of his increasing desperation.

“Fuck, fuck, shit, I-“ He hissed out a breath, pinching his nipple firmly as he felt the cake begin to collapse inwards, the squelch of the fucking he was giving it echoing in his ears.

A final scoop of the dessert onto his fingers went straight into his mouth, his plush, pink lips parting to accommodate three fingers; he was close.

Bakugou’s balance was starting to go as his orgasm approached, so he pulled his fingers free from his tongue and resumed his position, but beginning to sink lower into the mess he was fucking into his mattress protectors. From his angle, his balls began to slap what was left of the sides of the sinking cake, and the noise that created tore another moan from the blonde.

He could feel the sticky mess coating his crotch and inner thighs, closing his eyes as he lost himself in the feeling of indulging in the kink that turned him on like nothing else, wanting to savour something he knew was nearly over.

“Oh my fuck- ing, shit, oh, fuck-“

Bakugou’s hips were moving at a frantic pace now, chasing a release inside the cake while it still had an inside.

His orgasm had been teetering for a couple of minutes, then came all at once. A shout turned into a long, drawn out moan that was almost a cry, as he spilled his release in one, two, three bursts; biting his lip so hard, he’d discover later he’d drawn blood.

His arms gave out before he’d come back to himself, his lower half landing into the gooey puddle of expensive baking with a splat that would almost have been enough to get him half hard again if his soul hadn’t just shot out of his dick into a cake.

The blonde let out a deep, satisfied sigh, smiling dopily into the shiny, specialist bedsheet. Happy birthday to me, indeed.

Bakugou had only just had the energy to raise himself back onto his hands and knees when he had to find a little more to turn his head towards the door at the sound of it creaking open.

“Awh, did someone get you a birthday cake, babe?”

He nodded. You were back early.

You dropped your duffel on the floor, taking your first step towards the bed as you slid your shirt off with ease.

“Ooh, good - you saved some for me! I’m starving…”

#happy birthday bakugou!!!#my writing #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugou #katsuki #bakugo #bakugo x reader #bakugo katsuki #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader

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baubuttercup · 4 years ago

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Caught Red Handed /Spencer Reid

Summary: Reader and Spencer went from enemies to lovers and can barely keep their hands to themselves. What happens when their co-workers don’t know about their new agreement.

Spencer x Reader

Warning: Fluff, Mentions of Sexual Activities, Sexual Activities

A/N: I haven’t fully edited it but hope you enjoy it :)

As the sun beamed through my window i slowly shifted my weight shielding my face from the bright light. I turn to the other side of the bed where i am met with a sleeping Spencer who has his arms currently entangled around me. I take in the scenery for a moment not wanting this to end until two loud beeps echoed in the room coming from the nightstand. I peer over and check the time that read 7am "Spence, Spencer, Re-i-i-d wake up" he began to grown tightening the grip around my waist "No, its too early" I chuckle knowing that we are both extremely tired from last nights antics, and with that all the memories start flushing back. You see Spencer and I have been working together for the past two years at the BAU and during those two years we mainly had a hateful relationship, both finding each other annoying and overbearing...that was until three months ago after a night out at the bar where we found a new form of friendship, if you know what i mean. We aren't per-say together but we do have a bond which makes us inseparable, which is also hard to hide as work from our coworker who lets just say don't know about our little arrangement. I begin once again to nudge Spencer in an attempt to wake him up "Spencer Reid get your butt up so we aren't late for work" He rolled his eyes at me chuckling "How about we both call in sick today and we do something else much more eventful" He begins to leave wet soft kisses down my neck, before i found myself releasing a moan "Agh- No Reid, stop, come on we have to get ready, people will start to get suspicious" he groans and releases his grip "Fine, but that’s not any fun" I take his face in my palm bringing my lips closer to his. We are currently just inches apart from each other "If you get through the whole day without seeming like it's the end of the world, i'll give you a reward tonight" he kissed my lips passionately in agreement before getting up to get ready. -- The one thing i did hate about work was that me and Spencer had to continue this hateful charade so our coworkers didn't get suspicious. We both enter pretending to in an argument "What are you two going on about now" Morgan came up to us as we both got settled in our seats. "Reid once again thinks he is the smartest person on earth" Spence placed his satchel down on his desk before looking at me straight in the eyes "Technically i do have an eidetic memory, an I.Q of 187 and can read 20′000 words per minute, so yes i am a genius" i don't know why that did something to me but it did, all i wanted to do was pull him to the storage closet in that moment, but i needed to contain myself. "I'm sorry" i look at him with pure eyes "for what?" , "your existence" I turn back to my computer opening the files i needed to get done today "When are you two just going to confess your love for each other and get that sexual frustration out. We are getting a little tired of this" Me and Spencer shot a look at each other before turning to Morgan "Sorry to break it to you Morgan but i like men not little boys who watch Dr Who" Spencer whipped his head back to me in awe at what i just said. I was hoping he knew i was just trying to deflect. "Morgan, i'm a nice guy, i don't date stuck up spoiled girls who have been on millions of date yet can't keep a boyfriend" I was a little thrown back by the comment but reassured myself that its all an act. "well at least i can get a date, let me ask you this Reid, are you still a virgin cause i don't think i could ever imagine you actually having sex with someone, how terrible it would be for them" At that moment i knew i struck a nerve and knew i would get punished for that, the whole idea of it turned me on. I had to contain myself at work so i quickly brushed those thoughts away, which was incredibly hard to do "Wow you guys need therapy or a punching bag" with that Derek walked out heading towards his office. -- For the rest of the day i could see Spencer constantly stare at me, and i knew exactly what was on his mind. Just as i was about to finish up my paper work i got a text from Spencer

Reid: Meet me in supply closed in the hallway I look up to see if Reid was at his desk but he was not

Y/N: why, whats up?

Reid: come now!

I close the file sitting on my desk and begin to head towards the hallway. I check my surroundings hoping nobody is there to witness me randomly going into a supply closet. All of a sudden i was dragged in and pushed up against the door. "So I'm a virgin, little boy who can't satisfy a woman" i chuckle at his remark feeling his hand slowly go up my thigh "And i'm a stuck up spoiled girl who can't keep a boyfriend" With that Reid smashed his lips on mine passionately as we began to make-out, His hand rose up my thigh gently caressing in whilst the other was around my neck pushing my face closer to his. He parts his lips from mine as i groan at the lack of contact but then am met with the once again on my neck. I groan at the euphoric feeling before getting startled by banging on the door. Reid Covers my mouth quickly not letting another moan fall off my tongue. "Reid are you in there?" Reid looks straight at me mouthing to stay quiet. He slowly opens the door revealing a confused Morgan "Hey, whats up? Reid tries to calm himself down from the events that just took place "Reid, why are you in the supply closet", I mentally face palm hoping he is able to come up with a sufficient excuse "Y/N was annoying me so i needed to go somewhere quiet" I could hear the awkward silence "Ok-kay, um, but if you see Y/N can you tell her to forward me the briefing file from the case we had in Montana "U-m-m i mean you will probably see her before me you know but yeah sure if i see her which is not gonna happen cause i'm in the supply closet hiding from her"Reid continues to rambles making me nudge him "Okay, i'm gonna let you be Reid, probably stay off the coffee today" Reid signs "Noted" The door shuts revealing me once again. Spencer went in for a kiss. I put my hands out in front of me pushing his chest away "Uh Uh the moment has left pretty boy, i'm going to go back to my desk and doing my work so nothing else suspicious happens. Spencer tries to argue before i peck him on the lips walking out"

"BUSTED" as i open the door i am met with pure fear. Garcia and Morgan are standing right in front of the door smirking at both Reid and i. "So how long has this been going on" i look at Reid for help "Um i don't know what you are talking about Y/N just randomly came in here while i was working an-" realising we have been cause, i mentally gave up and didn't want Reid to embarrass himself any longer "three months" i said casually looking at the three of them staring at me "Come on babe, i wanna get home to finish what we started" They all look at me in disbelief at what i just said before Reid grabbed my hand as we walked back to our desks. We heard a faint murmur come from Garcias voice "You owe me $50 chocolate thunder". I giggle happy that i don't have to pretend to hate the love of my life anymore.

#mgg #mathew gray gubler #spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #spencer reid comfort #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #criminal minds #criminalmindscontent #criminal minds reid #criminal minds fanfic #moreid #mgg wallpaper #baby reid

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hxseok-honee · 4 years ago

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atlas heart || part 49

a/n : "the incantation comes from latin 'protego', 'i protect', and 'diabolica', a declension of 'diabolicus', meaning 'diabolic, relating to the devil'. it is unclear if the translation is meant to suggest 'protection from the devil' or 'the devil protects.'..."

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_______________________________

“Jungkook, will you stop eating all the cookies please--”

“How come Jin gets to eat everything in sight, but I can’t--”

“Because Jin is an insatiable mountain troll with no human manners and six stomachs--”

“Aw, Yoongi, you’re so loving with your words!”

“Shut up, Jin.”

“Kim Seokjin, stop eating the fucking food!” Jimin watches with thinly veiled exasperation as chaos unfolds in Yoongi and Hoseok’s countryside cottage. They’d arrived a few days prior, spending the week together before dispersing for Christmas Day, just in time for the full moon. It had been a chaotic week at best -- verbal altercations were had over stupid things like gift-wrapping techniques, and several small fires had already occurred in the kitchen, mostly due to Taehyung’s ice cream maker.

But somehow, they’d made it to Christmas Eve. And, so far, this Christmas Eve had been spent watching Jin eat all the food as it’s being made and consequently be kicked out of the kitchen entirely by Hoseok. Jimin’s seated in the living room with a perfect view of the chaos happening at the dining table. Y/n’s next to him, reading quietly with her head on Jimin’s shoulder. She’s especially tired today, the full moon just over 24 hours away, so Jimin’s staying close to her.

Namjoon and Taehyung are seated in front of the fireplace, engaged in an intense game of wizard’s chess. Namjoon is beating Taehyung by a landslide, but Taehyung just will not give up, something that makes Jimin smile fondly.

There’s a bang from the kitchen, catching everyone’s attention. Hoseok turns slowly from where he stands at the oven, smiling sheepishly at them.

“I may have put the pie in for too long.” The room is a collection of groans and exasperated laughter, Jin’s complaints overpowering the rest.

“How the fuck do you make a pie explode?! It’s a pie!” Hoseok looks to Yoongi for help, but the boy only shrugs.

“The man’s right, babe -- pie’s not that hard.” Hoseok lets out an affronted scoff, moving to open the window over the sink to let some of the smoke from the oven out. Jimin feels Y/n snicker softly beside him, and when he looks down at her, she’s peering over the top of her book at the scene in the kitchen. She looks so peaceful and happy, even with eyes full of exhaustion. He adores her entirely, and he knows it’s obvious to everyone but her.

Her eyes flick up to meet his then, and, over the cries of outrage from the kitchen about not having dessert, he hears her whisper to him.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Jimin purses his lips, smothering the smile that’s rising to the surface. He only shakes his head, his expression judgmental.

“Not everything’s about you, Y/n, geez.” He laughs when she gives him a hard nudge with her elbow, and he moves to wrap his arms around her and trap her in his hold. She lets it happen, only grumbling noncommittally about being unable to read like this. He presses his lips to her temple stubbornly in response. “You have a lifetime to read -- let me hug you.”

“Alright, it looks like we’re having deconstructed pie for dessert, so everyone come eat!” Apparently, the argument about the oven disaster has ended, as Hoseok’s setting a pie on the table, a giant hole in the middle where it had imploded. Taehyung jumps up from his tragedy of a chess game and runs for the kitchen, socked feet sliding to a stop in front of the refrigerator. Plucking a big bowl of homemade ice cream -- its flavor to be determined -- from inside, he makes his way to the table and spoons a giant scoop into the pie’s battle wound. He gestures dramatically at it when he’s done.

“Problem solved!” Hoseok mimics him, gesturing just as dramatically at his disappointed boyfriend.

“The man’s right, babe -- problem solved!” The group laughs, everyone slowly making their way to the table to eat. Y/n sets her book on the couch, moving to stand, but Jimin stops her. From within his pocket he pulls a vial and shakes it, eyeing her knowingly when she groans.

“Ten seconds of pain, and then you can drown the taste out with some ambiguously flavored ice cream. If it makes tomorrow night more bearable for you, then ten seconds is nothing.” She smiles, taking the vial and uncorking it.

“Did you just admit to being someone who eats dessert before dinner?” She downs the potion in one go, eyes squeezed shut. She doesn’t see Jimin gazing at her lovingly, only to lower his eyes when she’s done. She hands him the vial and takes his hand, pulling him to his feet and toward the table.

“You promised me only ten seconds of pain before ice cream, so move faster, Park Jimin.” They take their seats in the chairs nearest them, Jungkook setting his plate down on Y/n’s other side and moving to join them. Tae, Yoongi, and Hoseok sit across from them, Jin and Namjoon taking the end seats. Namjoon leaves his seat after a moment, moving to pass out silverware and swap the ladle in Jin’s hand for a normal spoon. Jin refuses to give up his spoon of choice, glaring at the boy standing over him.

“Dude, I will fight you on Christmas Eve -- I have no qualms about fucking up the holiday spirit or whatever--”

“Stop.” It comes from Jungkook, spoken with a quiet urgency that halts all activity in the room. He’s standing just behind the seat he’d been about to take, his hand resting on the back of the chair. He ignores their questioning glances, his eyes locked on nothing in particular as he focuses his hearing on the open window. When he finds what he’s looking for, he meets Yoongi’s eyes, alarmed.

“I thought you said you put a barrier around your house.” Yoongi and Hoseok glance at one another, shaking their heads simultaneously as Yoongi looks back to the Gryffindor.

“We never got around to it…” But Jungkook’s stopped listening. And, for all the years of jokes, remarks, and complaints Jung Hoseok had ever made about the boy’s heightened senses, he can say with complete confidence later that Jeon Jungkook is the only reason he’s still alive. Because the only person in the room that’s ready for the unforgivable curse that’s shot though the open window, aimed squarely at Hoseok’s chest, is the boy who’d heard the call for death fall from its caster’s lips.

Suddenly, Jungkook’s across the room, launching his body at Hoseok’s over the dinner table and twisting in mid-air to throw his hand out toward the window. He’d never in his life attempted nonverbal magic -- not necessarily the most advanced of students -- but it’s said that wizards can create even miracles if they’re desperate enough. And this is nothing like the World Cup, when Hoseok had protected him from a nasty stunning curse -- the beam of light headed Jungkook’s way right now, in this moment of literal life and death, has been shot to kill. So desperation is exactly what produces the shield charm that emits from his entire body, exploding outwards and shattering all the windows in the house as it goes. The force of it blows them all back, throwing them to the floor and against walls with cries of shock.

And, while a shield is normally null against a curse so powerful, it seems Jungkook’s done more than just perform nonverbal magic for the first time. He’s produced a physical barrier -- an invisible pane of pure energy separating his enemies from his family. It takes out half of the kitchen as it goes, destroying the far wall completely and opening the house out to the cold night around them.

In the confusion of chaos and rubble, Y/n lifts her head from the kitchen floor, catching a glimpse of the group of people outside the house, all equally disarmed from the display of sheer strength they’d just witnessed. She counts 6 bodies, all donned in dark robes, and she knows immediately that this is a Death Eater attack.

Groaning, she drags herself to her feet, grabbing anyone she can get her hands on and pulling them with her, staying low to the ground. Jimin’s the first to follow, holding onto Y/n for dear life, but he can’t help the way he hesitates when he looks past the overturned dining table, the wood splintered and cracked amidst all the wasted food.

Because there in front of him, right where the initial wave of power had surged out from and disoriented them all, is something that is very much not human. When it rises to its feet, it stands to full height, and Jimin knows that it’s easily as tall as he is. Black fur as far as the eye can see, the end of its ears and tail painted grey -- its body practically ripples with strength as it moves, and it’s from behind a set of sharpened teeth and a massive jaw, so powerful it could probably break Jimin clean in half, that a low growl starts to rumble.

It becomes a terrifying snarl in a matter of seconds, those piercing teeth shining in the moonlight with deadly intent. Jimin can feel that he’s still moving -- that all of this is happening in slow motion as he runs for safety and that no time at all has actually passed -- but he feels his whole world stop, drowned out by the sound of his heart pounding in his ears, when the beast shifts. Preparing to attack, it turns its head at the last moment to meet his eyes, and Jimin sees then that he knows these eyes. He knows the way they look him over with guarded concern and the way they turn away from him as soon as they know he’s unharmed, silently telling him to find his own way out -- after all, Jeon Jungkook’s always made it clear he has better things to do than look after Park Jimin.

Jungkook presses all his weight into his back legs, crouching low for a moment so suspended in time that Jimin doesn’t even see him leave. But then he’s gone, wind rushing past Jimin’s face and blowing debris everywhere as the wolf takes off. After another hard tug from Y/n that pulls Jimin’s focus back to the matter at hand, he only hears when Jungkook finds his first target, the ripping of cloth and the hellish cry of pain ringing in Jimin’s ears like a nightmare.

Tripping over pieces of the ceiling and walls -- the back half of the house essentially crumbling in on itself -- Jimin finds the faces of each of his friends. They’re all there with the exception of Jungkook, who seems almost feral, if the shrieks of death behind them are anything to go by. The group stumbles from the side of the house through a door that’s comically useless at this point, and when they circle around to the back, it becomes clear that there are far more than 6 Death Eaters.

The group that had led the attack has all but been taken out now, Jungkook nowhere to be seen -- but he’s certainly left evidence of his presence there. Jimin can’t tell if these people are dead or still dying, but he doesn’t have time to sort through the discarded bodies to check. Behind the cottage is a field of tall wheat that's surrounded by forest-- a massive expanse of land -- and when they look into this field to the top of a hill not too far away, there’s another wave of Death Eaters lined up, these faces rather familiar to just two of his friends. Jimin hears swearing behind him, and then Hoseok’s pushing past him roughly, only stopped by Namjoon’s hand clamping down around his wrist.

“Don’t, Hoseok! We can’t do this -- there’s too many of them. We have to run--”

“They just tried to kill me, Namjoon! In my own home!” Hoseok whirls around and gets in his face, eyes wild. Jin tenses next to Y/n, one of his hands hovering over his pocket where his wand is. When she follows his eyes, she sees that the line of Death Eaters has started to approach.

They move slowly, as if they have all the time in the world. As if they have nothing to fear, organized and protected against this mismatched group of ambushed friends. She watches as they approach like predators waiting for the kill, and she knows that this is no simple Death Eater attack -- it’s a massacre.

And then, just as silently as he’d disappeared, Jungkook’s returned. Their attackers are given no warning, only registering that the wheat around them is rustling when one of them is violently pulled down into it. He’s gone in an instant, his screams echoing in the night as he’s dragged through the dirt toward the house.

The moment Jungkook emerges at the edge of the field, the Death Eater is flying through the air and crashing into the remains of the house, slung from Jungkook’s jaws like nothing more than a ragdoll. He lands not a few feet away from them, and Yoongi’s jaw clenches when he recognizes the bloodied face of a fellow Slytherin. Turning to lock his gaze onto the line of his old classmates, he pushes past the group and summons his wand from within the rubble of his home with nothing more than the flick of his wrist. It flies from deep within the ruins into its master’s hand with ease, and Yoongi spins it between his fingers casually once he has it.

“I really hope you guys all know how to cast shields as powerful as Jungkook’s -- otherwise, we’re fucked.” The wolf in question falls into line with Yoongi, his whole body shaking from the warning growl forming deep within his chest. The rest of the group follows, facing their enemies head-on.

From Jungkook’s other side, he feels a warm hand press into the top of his head, and he knows it instinctively. He can also feel the cold length of a wand, hidden easily in the darkness of his fur and beneath her flattened hand. Y/n keeps him there for only a moment -- knowing they only have a moment -- and presses her fingertips against his skull as if to hold him back. As if to stall him just long enough to tell him to be careful. And then the moment is gone and she’s wrapping her fingers neatly around her wand, releasing him with a whisper.

“Go.”

None of them can say how long they’ve been there -- every second that passes is another that they could lose their lives, so it feels like they’re there a lifetime. They’ve huddled into a small circle, surrounded completely. Jungkook is mobile, weaving in and out of their enemies at too fast a speed to ever be hit by a curse. He’s taking them out slowly, dragging them back into the darkness one by one while the rest work just to stay alive. Unlike at the World Cup, where every enemy shot fired was red, these beams of lights are all hauntingly green, glowing in the night sky -- a sign that things are different now, death standing only a few feet away in the form of old friends.

Every killing curse fired is met with an equally powerful shield, a wall that shatters the moment it meets its mark. They’re cancelling each other out, evenly matched in a battle that won’t end until someone gets tired -- until someone makes a mistake. The only sounds come from incantations, spoken by those of their group that cannot cast silently.

Hoseok and Yoongi fight much like their opponents, masks of guarded silence -- a reminder that while they’re on opposite sides of the war, they were once very much the same. The difference, of course, is that their old housemates are now murderers without remorse. But that’s not their only problem.

Y/n suddenly stumbles next to Jimin, and he can’t even tear his eyes away from the Death Eater before him to check on her. He can only reach for her with his free hand, gripping her wrist in panic, which she rips from his hold with a groan. She only barely manages to raise her wand in time to block the killing curse headed right for her head. The force of her shield colliding with the curse so close to her knocks her back, and she falls into the circle with gritted teeth.

Jimin steps in front of her, closing the gap in their circle and allowing her a moment to recover inside their circle. But she never returns to her spot, only curling in on herself and gripping at her head with a cry of pain -- she knows this feeling. The feeling of her skull splitting, her body rejecting itself as it turns into something unnatural -- something unhuman.

But this can’t be happening. The full moon is not tonight, something she confirms simply by rolling over in the dirt and looking up at the sky, in excruciating pain. She can see clearly that this cannot be her reality, yet the popping of her spine as it dislocates itself is very much real. Reaching out blindly, she latches on to the first person she can find, her hand clamping down around Hoseok’s ankle and squeezing with all her might. He hisses above her and manages to glance down long enough to see an expression of pain he’d long become accustomed to.

“What the fuck?!” It’s the first time he’s spoken in ages, his attention back on his opponent as he works out in his mind how this is possible. There’s no time to reason through what he knows, however, because Y/n’s teeth are clenching so hard she’s afraid they might crack, her grip on his ankle tightening painfully. Hoseok makes a snap decision then, calling out into the night.

“Jimin, listen to me.” The boy’s on his left, so focused on the shield he’s casting that he responds only once he’s successfully blocked the deadly beam of green light.

“What is it, Hoseok--”

“You have to take her into the forest. Now.” His instructions are muffled by the sounds of a curse crashing into Namjoon’s shield, unheard by their enemies, but Jimin hears him clearly. He also hears the urgency in Hoseok’s voice, telling him there’s no time for questions. “It has to be you, Jimin.”

He knows then what Hoseok’s saying, what he hasn’t had the chance to confirm himself. Y/n’s transforming on a night other than the full moon, and they’re out of time. He calls for Y/n then, reaching back for her.

“Y/n -- baby, listen to me. We gotta go.” There’s a moment of nothingness, only her groans of pain, but then he feels her hand slamming down into his and gripping hard. And then his body is working faster than his brain.

Stepping forward out of the circle and straight for the man that’s been trying to end his life all night, Jimin swings his arm out, bringing a new shield up with him as he goes. It hits the Death Eater from the side, catapulting him through the air. Just as he’s in the downward arc of his fall, he’s caught suddenly, torso trapped in Jungkook’s jaws as the wolf leaps into the air to capture his next target. They crash to the ground not far away, hidden away in the wheat.

Jimin pulls Y/n to her feet, pointing his wand out into the field as he runs for the treeline.

“Fumos!” The effect is immediate, smoke pouring out of his wand and swirling around him in a dense fog. It keeps them hidden as they make a beeline for the trees, allowing them safe passage. Jimin chances a look over his shoulder and sees that the smoke hasn’t passed over his circle of friends, ensuring that they’ll still be able to see clearly and protect themselves.

Y/n stumbles again as they run, but Jimin’s hold on her keeps her going, and she registers that he’ll be there for her transformation. Panic seeps in through the pain, and she calls out desperately for him to stop, her vision leaving her. Jimin can feel her struggling against him, but he tightens his grip and forces her to follow. They’re close to the treeline by now, but it won’t be enough until they’re completely hidden. And, although he can’t see where the wolf has gone with his old enemy, Jimin steps in something wet and everything suddenly reeks of blood, so he knows Jungkook is near. Apparently, Y/n can smell it, too, because she’s struggling harder now.

“Jungkoo-- Jungkook, stop him!” Jimin grits his teeth and stops, turning to face his girlfriend and pulling her forward. She crashes right into him, the force of his sudden movement propelling her straight into his arms. Her eyes are wide open but her vision’s completely blacked out, which Jimin can see in the fact that she won’t look at him. But he doesn’t need her to.

Ducking low, he wraps an arm around her waist and throws her over his shoulder, ignoring her cries of outrage as he races for the forest just ahead. She pounds her fists against his back, practically roaring with fury as she fights him. He only pushes on, telling himself he’ll let her be as mad as she wants later, if they’re still alive.

Once they make it into the forest, Jimin runs only far enough that he feels unseen before setting her on her feet. She’s immediately falling to the ground, crawling blindly away from him and clawing at the dirt in pain.

“Go away! Just go away!” Disappearing behind a tree, she swears at him loudly, looking for any outlet for her pain. Jimin only turns to the treeline, letting her curse him as he surveys the land around him for Death Eaters. All he sees is Jungkook in the distance, turning in circles in the field as if lost.

Jimin watches as the wolf races for their friends, sliding to an urgent stop and turning back again in confusion when he doesn’t find what he’s looking for. He sees when Jungkook’s ears perk up at someone’s call, and his head is turning in Hoseok’s direction. Hoseok’s lips move, giving instructions Jimin can’t hear, but he knows exactly what’s been said when Jungkook’s whipping around to look at the trees.

Interestingly, the wolf hesitates, moving forward before stopping to looking over his shoulder. It’s only a moment, but it’s enough for Hoseok to point out at the forest urgently as he blocks another curse. Jimin can read Hoseok’s lips clearly then as the older boy calls out to Jungkook.

Jimin will die if you don’t go.

The chill that runs down Jimin’s spine at that moment, an omen playing a cruel joke on him, only worsens when he realizes that he’s stopped being able to hear Y/n’s pained gasps. A low whine rings out behind him, and it’s with bated breath that Jimin’s turning slowly on his heels.

Towering over him with an icy gaze locked on him is Y/n -- rather, it’s the part of Y/n that has no idea who he is in that moment. The eyes that see him only see through him, completely empty of anything that isn’t primal. Where Jungkook’s eyes are still his own even in a wolf’s body, these eyes don’t recognize him, and Jimin knows that fact alone will haunt him forever.

Yet, he isn’t afraid of her. He’s only afraid for her -- for the way she’s still curled in on herself, still in pain. He’s afraid for the way she blinks, thoughts muddled and lost, struggling to find herself in the darkness of her mind. He’s especially afraid for the way she finally gives in, losing her will to fight for herself. Her pupils shrink and grow until she’s focusing in on him, and Jimin knows by the way she tilts her head curiously at him that he’s got her attention -- and that’s never good.

When she takes a step toward him, he mirrors it with a step back, and that alone seems to set her off. She moves suddenly, closing the distance between them easily. She leans down until her snout is pushed close to his nose, snarling at him as he stays frozen where he stands. When she raises one clawed hand, he barely has time for a final thought before she’s swinging down at him.

Well, shit.

Suddenly, Jimin’s flying through the air and crashing to the ground a few feet away, rolling to a stop at the base of a tree with a groan -- but he’s in one piece. Lifting his head, he finds that he hadn’t been sliced to pieces by his own girlfriend. He’d been shoved out of the way by a wolf twice his size, the wolf in question now standing where he had just been.

Jungkook’s got his teeth latched around Y/n’s wrist, growling loudly to keep her attention on him. They stand there a few moments, eyes locked in a tense stare-down of dominance. Y/n eventually raises her other hand, claws gleaming in the moonlight, but Jungkook only growls again, a warning. It stops her, as if recognizing this moment, and, although she seems enraged by the display, she lowers her hand anyway.

Ripping her other, trapped, wrist from Jungkook’s jaws, she lets out her own snarl and steps toward him, and Jimin thinks these two might really tear each other apart. But Jungkook’s been here countless times, and he’s still of clear mind, so he knows exactly what to do.

Crouching quickly, he snaps his teeth at her ankles, sending her backwards. She roars angrily, but he persists, snapping at her feet again and again until she’s finally scurrying off into the forest with a cry of outrage. Jungkook watches her go before rushing to Jimin, startling the boy out of his shock.

The wolf sniffs at the air around Jimin, knocking him around with his massive head as he pushes his snout into Jimin’s torso, checking for injuries. Jimin’s lost for a moment, wondering exactly why Jungkook’s expressing so much concern when Y/n should be his priority, but then he remembers exactly what it would mean if he had been caught by one of Y/n’s claws.

Once Jungkook’s done checking that Jimin won’t be turning into a werewolf anytime soon, he’s gone, disappearing after his sister. Jimin only sits there, bruised and battered but alive all the same. Then he hears someone yelling Taehyung’s name in the distance, and he’s on his feet.

Rushing out to the field, he stops at the top of the hill, his breath catching in his throat when he sees the scene down below. His friends are still surrounded, and, although the number of Death Eaters has been severely reduced thanks to the merciless animagus running around, there’s still too many of them. But before he can rush to help, something happens, all too fast to process -- and Jimin has the displeasure of witnessing everything from that hill.

Down in the circle, the rest of the group is fighting for their lives. Many of the boys have sustained injuries simply from their own shields exploding too close to them -- pieces of the ground and debris from the house are thrown around, catching on their bodies in surface wounds they won’t even notice until the next morning.

There’s a special kind of desperation spilling off of Namjoon and Taehyung -- the only muggleborns in that circle -- and it’s making one of them reckless. Namjoon’s keeping his cool, as he’s been in the Order for months now and has had the battle training, but Jin’s having to compensate for small mistakes Taehyung is making out of fear. The Gryffindor’s only a boy, a boy targeted simply for being born. This is the first time he’s ever been faced with his own reality, and he’s terrified.

So when he slips on a piece of rubble at his feet, the only thing that keeps him alive is the fact that he’d moved his head a quarter of an inch to the left just in time. The killing curse flies past him and through the circle, passing Yoongi on the right and hitting a mark just past him -- that mark is the Death Eater that Yoongi had been battling all night.

The boy crumples instantly, the light in his eyes gone. Yoongi watches as he goes, his mind blank as the body crashes to the ground. And then he’s turning on his heel, everything slowed and muffled around him. The Death Eaters have all stopped, equally shocked from what’s just occurred -- after all, they’re just boys, too.

Yoongi hears Jin yelling Taehyung’s name, and he sees Hoseok rushing for him. He watches as Namjoon starts to run to Tae and then stop, raising his wand and choosing to keep guard instead, realizing that their fight isn’t over. Yoongi watches all of it with wide eyes, thinking then that this scene would be very different had the curse hit Taehyung as intended. He spins, staring down at the dead body below him, thinking that this is what Taehyung would have been. This lifeless, empty corpse. And that’s just too much for someone like Yoongi to deal with.

In that moment, the strength of the silent marksman is broken, shattered from within as he fights no longer to protect his own life but those of his friends. In that moment, he proves to be much more worthy than he’d ever thought himself before, breaking through that perpetual tendency to hide himself away — but it comes at a price. Because it’s in that moment that Min Yoongi, for all that he’d tried to free himself of that cursed name, finally gives in to the bloodline he’d spent his whole life denying.

“Protego diabolica!” The spell is cast like the roar of a dragon awakened, enraged -- the first time he’s spoken an incantation in years. It’s ripped from his lungs against his will, uttered with nothing but the urge to destroy, the need to bring pain down on his enemies so that they may never hurt his family again. That dark magic — so forbidden, so evil — follows the command of his left arm, quite literally brought to life by the malice in his eyes and the sweeping of his hand in an arc around himself. And for the first time in the 7 years Jimin had known the shy, self-loathing Slytherin — so guarded from the vulnerabilities of life — he watches from that hill as Yoongi loses control.

The fire that flows out of his hand like water -- icy and unforgiving -- spreads out around Yoongi like a wall of pitch black rage. It passes right over his friends -- they flinch at the foreign magic and its caster, who seems equally foreign to them now. They watch with awe as Yoongi commands the fire, forming a protective circle around them with ease. It almost seems to feed off of his rage, growing with every breath he takes and shrinking with the fall of his chest. He is a snake no more -- a dragon birthed of fire and blood stands in his place.

Jimin watches in pained silence as one of his closest friends loses himself to the war -- but even now, he can still see that Yoongi’s still there. And it’s Yoongi that will have to deal with consequences later, but right now he’s doing whatever it takes to save them. And that includes exploding with anger the moment he spots Jimin still up on that hill.

“Get your ass in here!” The ring of fire seems to swell with his outrage, and Jimin is in no place to refuse. The Death Eaters are still shocked and disoriented by the wall of fire they’re now faced with, and Jimin uses that to his advantage. Racing down the hill, he leaps into the circle, the cold flames licking at his ankles as they let him pass, recognizing him as a friend to their master.

Having seen Jimin’s success at passing through the ring, two of the Death Eaters rush at the wall, unaware of the nature of this dark magic. The moment they make contact with it, the fire senses their intentions, reacting accordingly. Jimin watches as they dissolve into nothing, shrieks of pain ringing out into the air as the fire consumes them. When he turns, he sees that Yoongi is shaken by this, his eyes conflicted as he watches two of his classmates cease to exist, remembering exactly what kind of magic he’s just brought into the world.

But when one of the last Death Eaters attempts to cast another killing curse into the circle, hoping to get through, the fire seems to act not on Yoongi’s command but on his instinct -- and his instinct is to block it. The flames explode outward, concentrating into a wall of protection and destroying the curse. And then they reach further, snaking out to overpower the boy who’d cast the spell, consuming him and his plea for mercy.

There’s only one Death Eater left, standing just outside the circle. Yoongi locks eyes with him, sees the trembling boy staring back at him with fear. They see each other, remembering simultaneously all the times they’d eaten together at mealtimes and suffered together during exam season. They’d grown up together. Just how they’d ended up here, neither of them can recall in that moment, and it destroys whatever innocence they’d had left.

Yoongi finally looks out to the field, his eyes flicking quickly before returning to the Death Eater. The boy hesitates, eventually stepping back. After another moment, he turns, running for his life and never looking back.

When he’s gone, the ring of fire fades, the wall tumbling down until all that’s left is a ring of earth around them that’s been burned to a crisp. Yoongi crumbles then, falling to his knees and staring at nothing. Jimin and Hoseok rush to him, eyes scanning him in concern. They all remain silent, words unable to express what any of them are feeling. Finally, Yoongi lifts his head, still unable to lock eyes with anyone.

“Is everyone okay?” They don’t answer his question, Jin only scoffing in shell-shocked disbelief.

“Are you okay?” Yoongi looks at his best friend, and he knows Jin can see right through him. They all can. He doesn’t respond, and they fall to silence again. Surrounded by bodies and destruction, unable to comprehend what’s happened. Unable to fathom how inexplicably broken they’ve become.

Just when they’re ready to face each other -- when they’re ready to face the aftermath of this night together -- a howl rings out from the forest, pained and haunting. They all lift their heads to stare in exhaustion at the treeline, outlined perfectly by the light of a moon that isn’t full. Yoongi chuckles darkly, shaking his head as he rises slowly to his feet and dusts off his pants before turning to look at what's left of his home with a long sigh.

“This family’s a fucking mess.”

#bts au #bts smau #bts social media au #bts hogwarts au #park jimin #jimin x reader #AHupdate

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pascalscenarios · 4 years ago

Text

MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND (Javier Peña x Reader)

MUST HAVE BEEN THE WIND

(Based on the song “Must Have Been The Wind” by Alec Benjamin)

Scenario Series

Javier Peña x Reader

Summary: Javier lives below you, curious of the noise and why’ve you’ve been crying

Words: 1638

Warning: Toxic Relationship, Arguments

A/N: Hope you all are well! - K

Javier Peña was out cold, worn from working a case that lasted a few days out on the field. The television softly played as his body lay sprawled out on the old and weathered leather couch, wearing nothing but his plaid pattern boxers. Javier's heavy head rested propped up against the armrest. His mouth hung open as his chest rose and fell, deeply breathing through his mouth, snoring ever so slightly. His legs were partly spread open as one of his legs draped over the back cushions of the couch. His arm rested across his torso. The other dangling off the side of the sofa with a half-empty cup of whiskey clutched in his hand.

Nothing could wake him up from his deep sleep. That was until the sound of glass shattering from the apartment up above him startled him awake.

His eyes had shot open. He was a little disoriented, unsure of where the sound came from. Sitting up on the couch, he set his glass on the coffee table, switching it out for the television remote to turn it off, thinking the loud sound came from the movie he fell asleep watching.

He looked around his living room, scoping out if there was anything out of the ordinary. After a few minutes of listening, he decided it was best to just get up some shut-eye in his bedroom. He stands up from the chair and makes his way down the hallway. He enters his room located at the end of the hall, immediately laying himself on the bed.

As he tried to fall asleep he couldn’t help but listen to the commotion, the continuous sounds of thuds and bangs. His eyes opened, staring at the ceiling.

“What the hell…” he cursed to himself, his eyes frowning, wondering what was happening above him.

Then he heard the voice of you crying. Your muffled cries could be heard from above. Javier's irritated expression faded as he listened to you wail.

He was concerned now.

Javier didn’t know the person living above him, but he needed to see if they’re okay. He knew something wasn’t right. He wouldn’t be able to sleep knowing he could have done something to help them.

Javier took the stairs up to the 2nd floor, walked down the hallway, and knocked upon your door.

He stood there waiting for a few minutes. No one came to the door. He knocked again, hoping he didn’t have to bust down the door to get inside.

By the third time, as he was in mid knock, the door opened. You stood there partially hiding behind the door using it as a shield between you and Javier. Your tied-back hair was disheveled, eyes were puffy and red. You quickly used the sleeves of your sweater to wipe any tears that may have remained on your face and to try to hide the fact you’d been crying.

Telling from your body language you were uneasy, Javier backed away from the door, giving a good amount of space between the both of you.

“Hi...” Javier said softly. He’s seen you around in the apartment building before, usually in passing.

“I’m Javier Peña, I live in the apartment below yours. I’m sorry to bother you this late, but I was hearing a bit of a commotion coming from your place. I came to check to see if you were alright.”

“I think your ears are playing tricks on you.” You prompted. He noticed that your sweater zipped up to your chin. You knew there was no doubt that Javier could hear the fight that happened only moments ago, but you were ashamed, embarrassed that he did. You didn’t want to admit that it happened.

Javier knew you were sacred and wasn’t going to open up and come clean on what happened, especially to a stranger.

“Thanks for caring sir, that's nice of you, but I have to go back in.” You say slowly closing the door, trying to get him to leave and retreat to his apartment.

“Wish I could tell you about the noise you’ve been hearing, but I didn’t hear a thing...” You shrug.

“It must have been the wind.” You muttered.

He didn’t want to pry or push you further, so he went along with what you’ve said.

“I guess I was wrong. I’m sorry to have disturbed you this late, Goodnight”

You give him a broken smile and shut the door.

Javier starts walking down the hallway, turning back to look at your door. He was concerned for you but knew something was going on.

…

A couple of days have passed. He continued to hear the arguments above. Javier couldn’t shake the feeling. He didn’t want to intrude because he knew he didn’t have all the facts, but he couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you.

He couldn’t get the image of you in his head that night when he saw you. Your tear-stained face and puffy eyes. You looked so fragile, tired and worn.

He could hear you crying right now. The thin walls and floor held nothing back. He wanted to go up and check on you, but he figured you’d turn him away again after he went back to see you a day after the first night. You told him the same thing you did last time “It must have been the wind”

An idea popped into his head. He wasn’t sure you’d get the message, but he had to try.

He walked over to where his record player was, filing through vinyl in a crate that his record player sat on top of.

He finds the vinyl, slipping out the record from the protective sheet, and placing it on the turntable. He turns the record player on and moves the needle. He turns a dial to turn up the volume on his speakers.

…

You laid on your bathroom floor hysterically crying. Another night fighting with your boyfriend. Your relationship was falling apart and you were desperately trying to save it. You hated that he would break things and throw things around. He would blow things out of proportion. You had no idea why you were even trying anymore or why you even put up with him. You knew he didn’t care, he never did, but he was all you have. You felt alone.

As you lay there on the floor you hear music coming from the apartment down below. You slowly start to calm down as you listen to the singing voice of Bill Withers

“Lean on me, when you’re not strong and I’ll be your friend. I’ll help you carry on…”

It was Javier. You knew what he was trying to tell you. He wanted to help you, letting you know you could go to him. He already tried to help you, but you had turned him away, pretending things were fine.

The two of you knew you weren’t fine. You continued laying, curling up listening to the song.

…

Javier was on the roof of the apartment building. He leaned against the brick wall that lined the edge of the building. He was smoking a cigarette as he watched the lights of the city.

You came to the roof to get some fresh air. You busted through the door, Javier turned to look over his shoulders and noticed you.

You had locked eyes. You stopped dead in your tracks as you stood in the doorway. Javier breaks eye contact as he turns back to look at the city and exhales a puff of smoke.

You slowly make your way over to him. You stood next to him, you placed your arms on top, leaning against the brick railing.

“Hi…” You say softly.

“Hi”

“I-I never gave you my name…” You introduced yourself to him.

“I’m Javi-”

“Javier Peña...I know. I remember” you smile softly. “...I’ve seen you around before in the building... What are you doing? Up here I mean…”

“Needed a smoke and a change of scenery. I come up here to think sometimes.”

“Me too.. The thinking part. Not to smoke- I don’t smoke”

Javier chuckled. “Well that’s good to know. I was going to offer you one”

You two silently stand there looking off in the distance. You didn’t mind the silence. It was odd, he’s somewhat of a stranger to you, yet felt comfortable and safe around him.

He looks over at you. “Are you okay?” he asks.

You look up at him, his eyes searching for an answer. You sigh, hanging your head in shame and you fiddle with your fingers. Tears filling your eyes.

“Promise I'm not playing tricks on you. You're always welcome to come in. You could stay at my place for an hour or two If you ever need a friend. We can talk about the noise when you're ready, but 'till then I'll say, "It must have been the wind”

Javier one last drag of his cigarette and exhales. He drops it on the ground, smashing it in. He sticks his hands in his pockets and walks away back over to the roof door.

“Javier-”

He stops turning around to look at you.

“Goodnight”

“Night”

With that Javier leaving you standing on the roof alone.

…

The next morning you built up the courage to talk to Javier. You made it down to his apartment and knocked on his door, patiently waiting.

Javier opens the door seeing you stand there fidgeting with your fingers.

“Hey” he greets you

“Hi… I’m sorry to bother you. I thought about what you told me last night. I could use a friend… talk about the noise...I-if that’s okay…”

“Yeah, of course. I was actually about to head down to the diner down the street to get some breakfast and a cup of coffee...Do you wanna go? Can sit and talk..”

“Okay...Yeah I’d like that” you smile softly.

“Okay” he grabs his jacket and keys off the hook and shuts the door. “Let’s go”

Javier and you walked down the hallway together beginning to talk about the so called “wind”.

MT // @wifeofdindjarin @icanbeyourjedi @sara-alonso@greeneyedblondie44 @hb8301 @alberta-sunrise@spacenerdpascal @ryleyrooroo @reader-s-cantina

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier #javi #Pedro Pascal #pedro

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