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jetaime-jespere · 3 years

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Old Times All Over (Part 1 of 2)

A very special thank you to @sequinsmile-x for the beta!

Exactly six months pass before he can’t stand it anymore.

Aaron takes a risk and goes to Emily while she's undercover in Paris.

Rating: M

Exactly six months pass before he can’t stand it anymore. The weight of her absence is unbearable; it follows him around as if lingering in hidden shadows and settling deep in his soul, an indelible stain that doesn’t fade as the days pass by. He bears the team’s grief, shoulders it and doesn’t let himself handle his own. It feels wrong to mourn her as if she were actually dead when in reality she lingers somewhere very different, another kind of hellish existence. He often finds himself wondering what she’d say about all of it. Emily would have scoffed at the ornate casket, rolled her eyes at the formality of the Catholic service the Ambassador insisted upon. He’d been the one to make the call on the flight back to DC. Elizabeth knew right away why he was calling, and the detached coldness in her tone was merely a coping mechanism, for the older woman’s grief seeped through the phone as he relayed the news. Aaron could scarcely reach her eyes as he offered condolences in person, the words heavy and thick on his tongue. Elizabeth’s questions were answered with the vague formalities that were constructed as part of a grand lie, held together with threads that ran the risk of being unraveled with the slightest misstep.

Read the rest below the cut or on Ao3

Emily’s life depended on the sanctity of those lies, as did his own.

No one can ever find out about this, JJ had whispered to Aaron and Clyde behind a firmly closed door in the depths of that hospital in Boston. It was eerily dark, their heads bent together in near silence as initial plans were laid. For her safety, and all of ours. It felt oddly conspiratorial to plan her disappearance as she laid just feet away, oblivious to it all and very much alive. But Doyle escaped into the night like a ghost, and that meant Emily had to go too whether they liked it or not. It didn’t matter that they hunted monsters like him every day. They knew the moment her heart started again, that she would pull through, that she’d never be free. He’ll never stop looking for her. Clyde’s voice was like rubbing salt in a wound that burned through his skin.The tension between them was thick, laden with the unspoken tension of a tentative truce and a keen awareness of the pain that coursed within each of them. He will go to the ends of the earth to find her.

Aaron disliked Clyde Easter from the moment he laid eyes on the man. Perhaps it was his closeness to Emily - she trusted him, more so than she did Aaron, as was being made abundantly clear. It still stung - that she’d gone to him in her moment of need without even once considering just maybe the team could have helped. Maybe it was the way Clyde knew her so intimately, almost as well as a lover would - a delicate balance of adoration and indignance, a fierce desire to protect the oaths they’d sworn years ago, loyalty and trust woven from years of brushes with peril only to do it all over again. But it was more than that; he knew from the moment Clyde sat before him in an interrogation room in Boston his loathing ran deep. Only later would Aaron realize they both paid a similar price for loving the same woman.

The idea to go to her comes to him once Dave has finally disappeared for the night and the bottle of scotch is empty once again. It’s a ritual they share now, unspoken yet expected, an attempt at burying the worst of their grief. It never quite hits the mark, because Dave doesn’t know the truth. His words are wise and well intended, but he speaks of loss in terms of death, and it’s one thing Aaron can’t think about for too long. But it’s some of the only company he has once the building quiets down, so whenever he shows up at the door, he doesn’t object. Most nights they leave together after a round. The echo of their shoes striking the marble floors is the only noise between them when they pass the framed photos of agents long gone on the walls, now with Emily among them. He wants to shake someone, tell them she doesn’t belong there. “Don’t look,” Dave tells him every time. “It won’t bring her back.”

He always looks.

Tonight Aaron lingers, the idea now an intrusive thought reverberating through his weary mind. It’s dangerous - violates every rule of her disappearance - and puts anyone who knows at risk. He shuffles the files on his desk only to do it once more, rearranges the pens in the cup and flips through a few reports that still require his signature. His phone rings; he doesn’t have to turn it over to know it’s Jessica asking where he is, that Jack is asking for him. He was supposed to have been home a few hours ago. Instead of answering that phone, he digs for a different one. This one has stayed hidden in his desk since the night they returned from Boston. Clyde had pushed it into his hand at the last possible moment before he boarded a flight, his face stony and solemn. “If you ever need to reach me, use this.” It might be the closest thing to a friendship they’ll ever have, a twisted kind of bond that comes along with a shared secret they very well might take to the grave.

“I was wondering when you would call,” comes the lilting British accent on the other end when the line connects. “I thought for sure it would be sooner.” Clyde’s voice is haunting; it takes Aaron right back to Boston when it was just the two of them in that interrogation room, piercing blue eyes up against his darker ones as the pieces fell into place. If you want to stop that man, you have to put a bullet between his eyes yourself. He barely recognizes his own voice; it strains when he explains exactly why he’s calling, once the doors of his office are firmly shut. Even then, it’s a near whisper.

“You do realize what you’re asking of me?” Clyde demands. He’s not exactly surprised by the request, though. After all, he and Aaron had a few things in common. “The risks of all of this?” He’s whispering, the hiss of his voice biting even from thousands of miles away, wherever the hell he might be. “I thought you did things by the book at the BAU.”

“Can you make it work or not?” Aaron’s terseness matches Clyde’s hostility, a thinly veiled shield for his grief that consumes him.

There’s a pause on the other end, followed by a contemplative inhale as if he’s considering his answer, like he holds the power in his hands himself. “You should have more faith in me, Agent Hotchner.”

...

It’s all a little too easy to coordinate once the initial call is made, much to his surprise. For two weeks, things continue as normal, or as close to normal as possible, a period of limbo-like freefall. A case takes them to Portland, another to Providence. While the team is across the country, Clyde takes care of the multiple identities and aliases Aaron will use in Europe, along with a reservation at a nondescript hotel and God only knows what else. He’s barely back in Virginia for an hour when a text message on the burner phone reveals a series of coordinates, a meeting location.

“A direct flight to Charles de Gaulle might seem suspect,” Clyde whispers, nestled amongst the shadows along the Potomac River three nights before Aaron slated to leave. “There’s a flight from Regan to Heathrow, then to Paris. You’ll have a different identity for each, so best not to get confused.”

Aaron bristles at the snarkiness in his tone. “And my cover story?”

Clyde scoffs, as if disgusted by the question. “You’ll tell your team you’re being called to London to consult with Scotland Yard as a favor to a friend. I’ve already taken care of those details as well - a fake case report. Familiarize yourself with them so they don’t suspect anything.” He passes over the thick envelope, holding onto it for just a moment too long.

“How will I find her? Once I’m there?”

“Leave that up to me, Aaron. She’ll be waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” is all Aaron can say once he holds the weight of it in his hands. “I know you took a huge risk to do this.”

Clyde stuffs his hands in his jacket pockets and shuffles his feet awkwardly. “I love her too, you know.” It’s certainly the most honest he’s ever been, something that looks like hurt flooding his features. But he stiffens a few seconds later with an authoritative clearing of his throat. “Bloody hell, Aaron, for all of our sakes, I hope you know what you’re doing.”

...

Aaron drops Jack off at Jessica’s. He relays the same details he told the team a few hours before with the same feigned degree of calm assurance and mock annoyance - just a few days away, work related. No one suspects a thing. In fact, the rest of them seem almost happy for him to go. “A change of scenery might be nice,” Dave says as they walk out of the BAU.

It’s risky, inherently a bad idea and yet, it isn’t enough to deter him. There’s an element of betrayal he feels for lying to the team, for they’re still reeling from their collective loss. They miss her just as much as he does; none of this is fair. He drowns it out with a pair of headphones and a stiff drink as the plane roars to life and lifts into the sky as the sun sets.

He wakes up hours later in London with a headache and an all too familiar ache in his chest.

…

It’s another few hours of travel before he actually lands in Paris. He’s completely focused, determined as he collects his luggage and leaves the airport. He destroys the first passport moments after the plane touches solid ground and tucks the next one in his jacket pocket for easy access, the others will stay safely in his travel bag. Aaron calls Clyde on a new burner phone, one of several included in the envelope of documents that was passed over in a shadowy spot by the Potomac. He answers on the first ring, doesn’t even bother with a greeting. Instead he rattles off an address Aaron commits to memory and adds, “she’ll be waiting for you,” before the line goes dead. The address, he soon finds, is a small cafe in the fifth Arrondissement, the Latin Quarter. At first it seems risky, to meet in public, but it’s probably safer than somehow having a record of her address.

The woman at the small table in the back of the cafe is inconspicuous, but he spots her immediately upon opening the door. She could be anyone; she fits right in. One slender leg crossed over the other, a chic knee-length boot peeking out under the table. A simple raincoat, hair cut just below her chin. It’s lighter than it was the last time he saw her but still a rich shade of brown.The only giveaway is the state of the nails on her right hand - not manicured, bit down and ragged. It’s her, exactly where Clyde said she would be. He doesn’t make a big show, just simply sits in the empty seat across from her, his heart pounding in his chest when he sees her face for the first time in months. Emily’s hand is unsteady as her fingers wrap around the espresso on the table. “I’ve been waiting.” It sounds formal; she makes no move to shake his hand or hug him, or display any bit of emotion, but her lips tremble and her eyes well up a little.

“I got a little lost along the way,” Aaron shrugs a little, keeping his tone light for any ears privy to their conversation. She smiles, probably picturing him lost on the maze-like streets of Paris, the streets that still don’t feel like home to her either. “I’m here now.” It carries more weight than it ever would; all he wants to do is touch her to prove to himself this isn’t just part of the fucking nightmare he’s lived since March, one he’ll wake from wrapped in sheets damp with sweat and a pounding heart. She’s very much real, very much alive in front of him, but what the Emily he sees isn’t the Emily he remembers. Paris might be beautiful but it hasn’t been kind to her. She’s thinner and paler, shades of exhaustion on her face. Over the years Aaron has seen her sleep deprived more times than he could count - the toll of back to back cases added up - but this is something else entirely. It’s the culmination of fear from constantly looking over her shoulder, the toll of the unknown. Would Doyle ever stop looking for her, or would the rest of her days be spent on the run, alone, days that blend into weeks into months and years? Would she ever come home, to the only family she’s really ever had?

Emily studies him too, undoubtedly shocked at what she sees. Time hasn’t been kind to him, either. He’s a shell of what he used to be. A subtle shadow on his face that’s new, he’s weary eyed and tense. She knows it’s not because of the better part of a day he’s spent traveling - it’s much more than that. It’s a haunting look, with the memory of how quickly things spiraled out of control. He’d been helpless to stop any of it; Emily knows the blame he places on himself. If their hurried goodbye in the hospital was any indicator of the torment of what he’s been through the last six months, then she knows it’s been hell for him. Just like it’s been for her. She pushes another espresso, this one untouched, in his direction. “How much time do you have?” English feels foreign on her tongue. It’s been weeks, months maybe, since she’s had a real conversation not in French. It’s an act. This is all an act, but one her life depends on. Every minute she spends walking the arrondissements is a risk. The fear curls around her spine a little too tightly. She glances around the coffee shop, eyes scanning through without spending too long on any one thing. It can’t look obvious, only effortless.

“Not nearly enough.” Aaron wonders how much she knows about this, just what Clyde told her about the logistics of his visit. “We have about forty eight hours.”

He doesn’t miss the longing, wistful look in her eyes when she nods, the slightest tip of her head. It’s not enough time, it never will be. But it’s all they have, all they might ever have. They speak in short sentences, vague and cryptic, as they sip the espresso. It’s stronger than he expected, she seems immune to its effects. She doesn’t call him Aaron, and he’s careful not to call her Emily. He doesn’t know her new name, either. Not even Clyde could give him that information - it was probably better that way. They make superficial conversation - the rain here and the heat there, the bakery on the corner with chocolate croissants and the headlines on the newspaper that sits on the table. He plays along as she explains, as if he fits into this world she’s had no other choice but to assimilate into. To anyone in the cafe, they could be old friends, lovers even, with years of history between them, a casual intimacy spun like a web. The ease of lulls in conversation, a subtle glance every so often, the comfort of the proximity of someone else.

And hidden somewhere in their conversation, behind a facade of lies, is something else. What no one knows, what they haven’t quite managed to forget themselves, is something happened between them once before.

...

It was spring, after the dust had settled from Foyet and the world started to turn again, albeit slowly. Only when things settled into a new kind of normal - the humble experience of single parenting, relying on Jessica like he never had before - did Aaron realize something had changed between them. Perhaps it was the unwavering way Emily stood by him even when he wouldn’t admit to needing it, or how she picked up his loose ends without making him feel like his life was unraveling before his eyes. It was the way she mourned Haley’s death, a steadfast presence at her funeral, and her attentiveness to Jack in the months after.

He’d been divorced for more than a year, separated for at least two. Aaron no longer mourned his marriage, but the loss of his son’s mother, the woman he’d shared more than half of his life with. But someone else started to preoccupy his mind - dark hair, a blinding grin, a wicked sense of humor. It was becoming harder to ignore; she was everywhere. So a few months later in the spring, when he found Emily, nursing a drink at the hotel bar that had clearly seen better days, after a particularly brutal case in Scranton, he knew exactly how the night would end. It would cross a line - railroad through any professional boundary they still maintained. But an unsub had walked free earlier that night, a child was dead, and while it wasn’t her fault, he watched any trace of composure vanish from her face when they got back to the hotel as she retreated into herself.

It shouldn’t have happened that way - definitely not how he imagined it would. But Emily was desperate in her need to forget, he was desperate to help her do so. It was frantic, the clash of her teeth against his an ironic reminder that this was the first time he ever kissed her. Aaron pressed her back against the wall, sucked a bruise into her neck, and buried himself inside of her with one smooth push. He swallowed her moans with his mouth, the snap of his hips brutal and sharp. She reveled in it, her need for him and this, legs hitched over his hips as she clenched around him.

“Wanted you for so long,” he growled as she came around him. Her fingers were like vices around his shoulders, clinging to him as he fucked her through it, unrelenting. “Thought about you, about this.”

“Me too,” Emily gasped, the simple admission triggering his own release until he came apart and took her with him one more time.

Aaron had to carry her to the bed in the middle of his hotel room. It was the most gentle he’d been all evening, gingerly placing her in the center of it, following her down and pulling her into his arms. She was bruised and sore, he wore the scratches of her nails on his back and shoulders. Emily curled into him like she’d been doing it forever, snuggling into his chest. “I still can’t feel my legs.”

“We should have done that a long time ago,” he mused into the darkness, dragging his fingertips down her spine, listening to her slow, even breaths. It’s an admission more than an observation, and the low laugh that comes from her is all the confirmation he needs to know she thinks the same thing.

It happened again hours later, in the middle of the night, this time softer, slow and unhurried. He made her come twice with his mouth, coaxing her through each one. Aaron took his time, marveling at her and whispering praises into her skin. She beamed under his touch, besotted under his gaze. He studied the sharpness of her ribs, the curve of her waist, the length of her legs. And then he held her hands in his own above her head, rocking into her, metronomic and even. He kissed her like a lover should, his lips still wet with her slick, her legs pressed tightly wrapped around his waist as she crested against him. He collapsed against her shortly after, grappling for her hands, leaving kisses along her collarbones - anything to be as close to her as he possibly could.

But it was over after that.

Timing once again failed them. Not because they didn’t have the chance, but because they were both afraid something would change, whatever friendship they built over time, and they wouldn’t be able to take it back. They never talked about it, never even acknowledged anything had happened in that hotel room in Scranton once it was over. It lingered between them, the awareness of it sometimes all-consuming if she got too close or they somehow ended up sitting beside one another on the jet. But things happened - JJ’s untimely departure, coupled with Seaver’s arrival, the grueling toll of case after case. It was buried, hidden behind the burden of their jobs and the baggage they carried, both too stubborn to admit what was right in front of them.

And then she slipped away, shortly after a case in Montana. Emily’s typical professionalism, her unmatched level of skill was marred by uncharacteristic lateness and a short fuse, as if something had settled into her mind that she couldn’t shake. She was secretive and jumpy, slowly withdrawing from them all before his own eyes. And he’d been too caught up in what they weren’t saying, what they were hiding from, to even ask what was wrong.

Aaron never saw it coming. Until it was too late.

…

The cafe suddenly feels suffocating, the four walls trapping them in. What started as an alluring scent of coffee beans and freshly baked pastries now feels cloying, overwhelming. It’s just a little too loud as their conversation fades into silence. After all, there’s only so much small talk that can be made when he only has one question. Why? Across from him Emily shifts in her chair yet still wears her pleasant smile, still playing the act she’s perfected over the last several months. But she’s tearing at her fingernails, a sure sign that she’s nervous. He knows her tells by now, all of them. “What do we do now?” She asks, her voice barely audible. Whether it’s intentional or not he isn’t sure,

He leans in, takes her hand in his own. “Let’s get out of here.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #so not canon #hotch x prentiss #I love these two idiots so much #but I will make their lives angst and hell for a little bit #and slow clap for Clyde Easter #angsty but no one dies I promise

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tumbleweed-palmer · 3 years

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Big Dumb Mouth: Jimmy Palmer X Reader

Jimmy has been dreaming of her lips pressed to his for so long now and it's finally happening. What happens when his big mouth and the words that fall out of it lead to a misunderstanding though?

===========================

Jimmy wasn’t sure how it ended up like this, but his lips were pressed to hers and her arms were wrapped around him pulling him close against her.

He guessed he should have seen this coming. There had been months and months of subtle flirty glances and exchanges between them that weren’t all that subtle. Or he guessed they weren’t subtle given Dr. Mallard’s casual hints that Jimmy should just bite the bullet and in Ducky’s words “ask Young Miss. Y/L/N out for coffee”

Jimmy was pretty sure this current activity went far beyond just asking her out for coffee or to see a movie. Not that he was complaining.

She was a gorgeous woman, that was an understatement. He’d been nursing a crush on her from the moment they’d been introduced months ago when Y/N had been hired as a technical analyst by Director Vance. She was great at her job; brilliant enough that McGee and Abby had quickly gotten over their annoyance that someone had been hired to do a job they were perfectly capable of managing on their own.

Jimmy had been a big fan of Y/N from the start. It wasn’t just her brilliance or her beauty that had drawn him in. It was everything about her.

She was so sweet and so gentle. She held a serene sense of calm and warmth that made Jimmy think of a kindergarten teacher. Much like him she had to see so many horrible things each and every day. She had to dig into the depths of people’s lives and find all their secrets. She was forced to see disturbing images daily, but she never let it dull her kindness.

Jimmy had been drawn to Y/N from the moment he met her. It had been love at first sight he was convinced. How could he not be utterly devoted to her? She’d walked in with Director Vance, Vance making introductions to everyone she might find herself working with, and Jimmy’s eyes had landed on her. He’d been overtaken with how she looked so sweet in that pretty mint green dress and had been even more entranced by her even prettier eyes. She’d given him one little smile and he’d been head over heels for her.

He’d learned so much about her in her time here mostly from overheard conversations she’d had with Ziva or Abby. He learned that she did yoga on Sundays and she loved matcha tea. She had pink hair in high school and she missed it dearly but understood it wasn’t exactly work appropriate. She’d actually had quite a rebellious phase in her youth which was how she’d gotten so good with computers. She’d only hinted at the trouble she’d found herself in hacking into something she shouldn’t have which had earned her a bit of a reputation and had earned her enough credibility to be recruited for this job. She was a dog person and Jimmy had heard her discussing corgis with Dr. Mallard given his mother had quite a few and Y/N herself was considering getting one. She hated caramel. She loved Halloween and had been excited when Abby had invited her to a costume party. She loved wearing heels even though she complained they killed her feet. She always seemed so put together. It was something Jimmy admired about her; how elegant she always seemed. She was from a tiny mining town down south and she still had a hint of an accent that honestly made Jimmy melt just the slightest. She hated it when people called her a southern belle though or made condescending comments about her accent.

There were so many things he adored about her.

They were only friends though. They’d built up a friendship sharing lunch breaks and coffee breaks at times. They were close enough in age that they’d found they had a little in common as far as childhood memories went. Their friendship had been mostly filled with those shared coffee breaks and lunches and the occasional time spent together when everyone wanted to go grab a drink after work.

Neither Jimmy nor her were big in the bar scene and they seemed to find that they liked one another’s company over any of the more enthusiastic bar patrons. Y/N didn’t even judge Jimmy when he ordered a more stereotypically feminine sugary cocktail instead of beer or hard liquor like their coworkers. In fact, Y/N would usually pipe up that Jimmy’s order sounded good so she might try it too. Jimmy had always appreciated that about her. She could recognize when was feeling self conscious and seemed to have a way of reassuring him without it coming across as condescending or patronizing.

She just had a way of making him feel at ease. He felt like he could really be himself around her without judgement or anxiety rearing its ugly head in.

Jimmy had always told himself that friendship was enough. He would rather have her as his friend than risk losing her as a possible lover.

It seemed though that perhaps this was more than friendship. At least it seemed that way given their current activity.

He still wasn’t sure how this was happening. All he knew was that they were both working late and she’d come downstairs to Autopsy to see if he wanted to take a coffee break with her. One thing had led to another and now here they were, their lips pressed together, their hands roaming one another’s still clothed bodies.

He’d looked down at her and she’d been staring up at him and their lips had just met. There had been no words exchanged. This seemed to be months of flirting and shared gazes and sexual tension finally exploding between them.

Jimmy easily managed to dominate the kisses, a situation he was unaccustomed to when it came to his intimate encounters. He was usually the one who took a more submissive role when it came to his romantic partners. He had to like this newfound role though. He had to like that she seemed to trust him enough to let him take the reins so to speak.

They walked backwards towards the desk their lips not leaving one another as he backed her against the desk relieved that it seemed to be free of paperwork for once. He was sure Dr. Mallard would kill him if he pushed any case files or documents from the desk. Actually he was more than certain Dr. Mallard would kill him for this entire situation. He was the one who always insisted that Autopsy was a sacred place of respect. Jimmy was pretty sure this wasn’t exactly a respectful activity.

He couldn’t find it in him to care too much though. Besides this wasn’t the first time he’d found himself in this situation.

He pressed his lips down her neck the soft moan she let out encouraging his actions her fingers threading through his hair making a mess out of his curls.

He nipped and sucked at her neck not caring if he left a mark in his wake. The idea of leaving signs of what they’d done littered across their skin made him moan.

She pulled back from his touch their breathing so heavy their eyes dark with lust his hands not pulling from her. She spoke her cheeks flushing from more than arousal. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“It’s okay. This isn’t the first time I’ve done this.” Jimmy blurted out his heart dropping the second he realized just what he’d said and saw just how she reacted.

She pulled from him as though his touch burned her brow furrowing. “What do you mean?”

Jimmy cringed the word dancing around in the back of his brain taunting him Idiot, idiot, idiot. Now You’ve gone and done it. Look at the idiot and his big mouth!

He parted his lips stammering as he struggled to explain himself. “I’ve uh..I’ve I-I’ve hooked up at wor-work before with a coworker... You see I uh, I…”

Y/N felt her heart sink her mind automatically jumping to the worst possible conclusion. Wow, was this just something he did with girls around work? She hadn’t ever thought it was possible that Jimmy Palmer had a habit of doing this? Maybe she was just another notch in his bedpost.

She’d never suspected that Jimmy Palmer could be some kind of office manwhore. She would have thought that Tony DiNozzo was the one who had a habit of hooking up with girls around the office like it was some sort of game. Was Jimmy seriously just a love them and leave them type?

She spoke, not allowing him to continue not being able to stop herself from voicing her concerns. “So is this a habit for you? Hooking up with coworkers? Am I just a flavor of the week for you?”

Jimmy parted his lips, his throat tightening up his words failing to come. How could she think that? A little voice in the back of his brain told him had no right to be offended. He knew how this sounded.

His mouth opened and closed a few times, he looking like a fish gasping for water on land, Jimmy struggling to find the words to explain the entire story. He felt as though all the words he wanted to say were getting jumbled up at the tip of his tongue and he couldn’t work a thing out.

Y/N felt her temper rise at his loss for words. She took his silence as her answer.

She felt her heart sink. How could she have been so dumb? Of course this didn’t mean anything to him. Why was she like this? She got so over sentimental and over romantic about guys and they always let her down. She’d thought that Jimmy was different from every other guy who pursued her. He seemed so sweet and gentle. He was so cheerful and polite that it was hard not to adore him. He had almost a boyish charm to him that had made him endearing to her. Not to mention the fact that he was so passionate and determined when it came to his career choice. She’d always liked passion and motivation in a man.

She’d never imagined he was the kind of guy to be into just hooking up without it meaning a thing especially with someone he worked with. She’d let her heart get carried away and imagine that this was the beginning to their love story. She’d let herself believe that this meant that they would run away into the sunset together. She’d let herself get caught up in a dumb crush and had assumed he felt the same. Jimmy clearly was only thinking with his dick at the moment. Why were men so disappointing?

She felt like an idiot. She pushed him back standing up from the desk straightening her clothing, her voice harsh. “Just forget it Jimmy. Clearly we aren’t on the same page. I don’t even think we’re in the same book. I’m not the kind of girl who’s okay with just hooking up with no strings attached. I don’t judge you for being into anything casual, but it's not for me.”

Jimmy finally forced himself to speak, his hands reaching for her as she headed towards the door. “Wait Y/N, please.”

“Forget it Jimmy. Just forget it ever happened.” She snapped storming from the room, Jimmy feeling his heart sink.

How could things go so wrong so fast?

He felt a self deprecating voice in the back of his head speak up “Nice going. She hates your guts. You finally got to kiss the girl you’re crazy about only to fuck everything up. Just typical for you. James Palmer the king of self sabotage.”

He groaned, unsure if he should follow her and try to explain it all. She seemed so angry. He had never done well with confrontation, especially when that confrontation came from an angry woman.

He felt his heart sink all the more hating that he was such a coward. He couldn’t go after her. She probably hated him. He’d ruined everything once again.

He felt himself begin to wallow in self-pity cursing his big fat mouth.

He took a deep breath a sense of determination washing over him. No, no he wasn’t just giving up. He wasn’t going to lose her over his big mouth.

He just had to figure out how to fix this all. There had to be a way to fix this.

…………………………………………………………………………………………………

Y/N cringed, feeling her eyes on her. She tried to pretend that she was too invested in her computer to pay any mind to Ziva standing over her. She knew she meant well, but Y/N couldn’t help but to find Ziva standing over her like this to be a little unnerving.

She cleared her throat her voice tight. “I won’t have the background check done any time soon. This guy has like a million aliases. So you can go if you have something better to do.”

She spoke again trying to make a joke hoping she could use humor to deflect the crushing sense of heartbreak that was still hanging over her from last night’s disastrous events. “If you keep looming over me staring at me like that I’m gonna start thinking you’ve got a crush on me.”

Ziva was fast to speak, still eyeing Y/N with a knowing glance. “You are not my type and I am quite sure I am not yours.”

She paused, not afraid to be blunt about it. “Why are you so grouchy today? You are crappy.”

“Crabby, you mean? Crappies are fish, crabs are shellfish.” Y/N responded more than accustomed to Ziva’s occasional mistakes when it came to American figures of speech.

“Yes, the little sea creature with the pinchers. It’s a word that means you are irritable right?” Ziva remarked not at all minding Y/N’s correction.

Y/N sighed trying to pretend that the truth wasn’t so obvious. “I’m fine, just tired.”

“There is more to this than being tired. You seem sad. You are not you.” Ziva insisted making it clear she wasn’t just going to let this go.

Y/N sighed knowing that it was obvious she was a little out of sorts. She hadn’t been looking forward to coming into work this morning. She’d dreaded running into Jimmy after what had happened last night.

She still felt so humiliated. She’d liked him so much and he was clearly just looking to get laid. She felt dumb for feeling so disappointed and heartbroken. Jimmy was just another guy she’d have to add to the list of disappointing men in her life.

She’d been foolish enough to hope that Jimmy was different. Wasn’t that the mistake she always made though; believing that it was different this time. She always mistakenly believed that this guy was different only to be crushed when she realized they were all the same as the others.

She had done her best to hide her heartbreak at least as far as her appearance went. She’d picked out a pretty red dress that matched her nails and had fixed her hair and painstakingly done her makeup. She had put together one of her usual favorite outfits and walked into work with her head held up high. She’d sat in her office and got to work. On the outside she appeared to be just as put together as she always was. It was obvious to those who knew her well though that there was something off. She wasn’t filled with bright smiles and she wasn’t even drinking her favorite tea or softly humming her favorite songs as she worked.

She let out a heavy sigh knowing that Ziva wasn’t going to let this go. She was the type to keep poking the proverbial bear until she got an answer. “Jimmy and I kissed last night.”

“Is that a bad thing? I was under the assumption that you wanted to kiss him.” Ziva replied a frown crossing her features as she tried to find the problem.

Y/N felt her cheeks flush knowing that to Ziva and Abby the little crush she was nursing for Jimmy Palmer was so obvious. She had spent quite a bit of time with Ziva and Abby it feeling nice to hang out with the only other two women she worked so closely with. She’d been unable to hide her affection for Jimmy given that she tended to talk about him more often than not without even realizing. They’d tried to encourage her to pursue Jimmy, but Y/N was always hesitant fearing ruining the friendship they’d developed.

Y/N sighed knowing that she had to tell the truth. “We were getting pretty into it...like really hot and heavy and it was obvious that it was headed...you know in that direction... I was trying to tell him that I’ve never gotten intimate at work before, I didn’t want him to get the wrong idea...and then he blurted out that this isn’t the first time he’s done this with a coworker. It was pretty obvious that he thought of it as a hook up and nothing more.”

“Did he say that exactly to you?” Ziva asked her frown deepening understanding exactly who Jimmy had been talking about when he spoke of the coworker he’d done this with before. She knew it wasn’t her story to tell though. That was on Jimmy.

Y/N rolled her eyes as she replied. “He didn’t have to. His silence when I questioned him about it said it all.”

“I am sure that his silence was not an answer. Jimmy really does not seem to be the love them and leave them type of man. Perhaps you should talk to him about it, clear it up.” Ziva offered knowing it was all she could do.

Y/N shook her head a heavy huff leaving her. “There’s no point. He made it pretty clear what his intentions were. It’s just...super disappointing. I really liked him, you know? I thought he might be different, that things might be different with him. It’s...whatever though. I just need some time to mope and then I’ll get over him.”

Ziva frowned all the more wanting to point out that Y/N just needed to woman up and confront Jimmy. She was so stubborn and it was bordering on immature. Just leaving it be and jumping to conclusions would only cause her more heartache.

She kept her lips sealed though knowing that Y/N was a grown woman and Ziva wasn’t her mother. She couldn’t force her to do anything.

It turned out Ziva might not have to worry about forcing it as a soft knock sounded out at the door frame Ziva and Y/N turning to see the very man they’d been discussing.

Y/N felt her stomach turn at the sight of him her eyes narrowing. What part of forget it didn’t he get?

Jimmy shifted in place having to wonder if the bouquet of pink and yellow tulips he was holding was a bad idea. The florist had told him that tulips represented a hope for a new beginning, peace, and forgiveness. That seemed to be all the things Jimmy was hoping for.

Jimmy spoke his voice soft he looking like a kicked puppy at the moment he clearly losing confidence by the second. “Is this a bad time?”

Y/N parted her lips to say Yes but Ziva spoke answering for her. “Not at all, I’ll leave you two to it.”

Y/N shot Ziva a glare ignoring her knowing smile and her soft words to Jimmy as she passed him. “Don’t mess this up Jimmy. Good luck.”

Jimmy furrowed his brow wondering just how much Ziva knew?

He shifted in place holding the flowers out the words leaving him. “These are for you.”

Y/N sighed a little bit of fury swirling in her gut. Did he seriously think buying her flowers would make up for the fact that he’d been perfectly willing to use her as a quick lay the night before? Did he really think he could buy her flowers and she’d forget he planned on making her yet another hookup to add to his apparent list?

He spoke again, his heart sinking realizing she wasn’t taking them. “I just..I-I wanted to apologize for last night.”

Y/N spoke, her voice still sounding harsh. “I told you to forget it Jimmy. It was a mistake. We aren’t on the same page.”

“It wasn’t a mistake though...or I don’t think it was a mistake.” Jimmy insisted.

He sighed knowing he had to just be honest with her and hope that she could accept it. “I always say the wrong thing. It’s a curse. I have a big fat mouth and I ruin every good thing in my life. My job is the only thing my mouth hasn’t totally ruined for me.”

He let out a soft sigh finding the words he should have said last night. “I don’t want my big mouth to ruin us. I think we need to talk.”

He paused relieved that her face had softened a little bit she seeming less closed off. He took a deep breath as he spoke up explaining it all. “When I mentioned it not being my first experience with uh...that...last night. I didn’t mean that I make a habit of you know…”

“Fucking your coworkers.” Y/N responded being blunt about it.

Jimmy felt his cheeks flush nodding his head as he replied. “I don’t just sleep with people without it meaning something. I promise you I wouldn’t sleep with you or even kiss you if it didn’t mean something to me. I swear on my life. I did a really poor job of explaining myself last night.”

He cleared his throat deciding to just be transparent about it all. “I had a relationship with someone who used to work here...it wasn’t much of a relationship really. It was more focused on sex than anything. We had a tendency to uh...have encounters at work. Michelle and I...it was complicated.”

He paused knowing it did no good to get into the secrets that had been exposed about Michelle Lee or her treason or the story behind it. He was sure that was confidential information that wasn’t meant to be shared.

He spoke again knowing the best way he could explain it. “It’s a long complicated story. All I can say though is that we really weren’t good for each other. I felt used to be honest. It felt like she was only interested in sleeping with me but not anything else that went into a relationship. We were sexually compatible but she wasn’t there for me in the way I needed her to be. So, I broke up with her.”

Y/N felt the words leave her soaking up this information. Part of her wanted to think that there had to be more to the story than what he was telling her, but he seemed so genuine. “So, that’s what you meant by this isn’t the first time I’ve done this?”

Jimmy nodded his head his cheeks flushing this entire conversation feeling somewhat awkward. What if she judged him for it? What if she was disgusted by it? Then again did she have a reason to be, after all they’d been clearly headed towards getting intimate at work last night.

He spoke the words still sounding so genuine. “The break up was rough but it needed to happen. Like I said, we were bad for each other. There were a lot of secrets on her end that I can’t even get into.”

She furrowed her brow wondering just why he couldn’t get into it. He spoke again struggling to explain himself. “Trust me it’s complicated.”

He paused, taking a deep breath. “I would never use you as a means to get laid. When I kissed you last night it’s because I wanted to. I’ve wanted to do it for a while actually. It’s all I can think about when I see you. I am pretty crazy for you to be honest. I think I’ve made that pretty clear.”

“I think you have.” She replied knowing he’d been so quick to always shoot her flirty smiles and attempt to tell her jokes no matter how truly awful they were. Then again she was always fast to return those smiles and laugh at those bad jokes.

She gave him a soft smile, his heart lifting as she spoke. “I think I’ve been pretty clear about how I feel as well.”

Jimmy took a deep breath holding the flowers out again. “Do you think I can ask for another chance? I’ll try not to let my big mouth ruin anything this time.”

Y/N gave him her answer she standing up from her desk and leaning up her lips pressing to his. He embraced her, still somehow keeping a tight grip on the bouquet he was holding. This kiss was much more innocent than the passionate kisses they’d shared the night before but somehow this kiss seemed all the better.

She parted her lips from his her voice soft. “I think I can give you a second chance. I don’t mind your big mouth.”

He pressed his lips to hers again as she spoke. “I should have heard you out last night. I jumped to the worst conclusion like an asshole.”

“It’s okay, I mean...I froze up and didn’t explain myself at all.” He replied refusing to let her take all the blame.

They shared another kiss before he spoke the words falling out of him, his big mouth striking again. “Do you think we could try for a repeat of last night?”

He felt his stomach drop fearing the worst. His fears evaporated though as she spoke. “Maybe the next time we work late we can give that another shot...maybe in my office this time though...Autopsy isn’t exactly a romantic destination for me. Before that though I think I’d like a dinner date and maybe trying it out in a bed first.”

He felt a lovesick smile cross his lips at her words.

For once his big mouth was working in his favor.

#Jimmy Palmer #NCIS #NCIS fanfic #Jimmy Palmer fanfic #Jimmy Palmer X Reader #Jimmy Palmer imagine #jimmy palmer fanfiction #ncis fanfiction

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atsuumus · 3 years

Text

risks

pairing - ushijima wakatoshi x reader

synopsis -

word count - 1.05k

a/n - i’m sorry this is so late !! i was a little busy ,, i hope you enjoy anon ! thank you for requesting :< it really made my day. feel free to tell me if this wasn’t what you wanted or if there’s something you’d like changed !

at this point, you’re pretty certain that the entirety of shiratorizawa academy knows of the glaringly obvious crush you have on resident volleyball ace, ushijima wakatoshi. you’re kind of used to the vaguely pitying gazes your peers throw you in the hallways, knowing of your very public, very obvious, very fruitless attempts at showing him your affections.

you have tried everything. you’ve gone through multiple websites and magazine articles with titles like ‘ show him you like him ! ’ and ‘ 10 ways to confess !! ( without confessing ) ’, tried every technique they’ve offered you, asked friends, family, and sometimes even utter strangers for tips and ideas, but nothing has worked. the bento you left on his table, everything inside shaped like hearts, was accepted with a thank you, eaten, and then never talked about again. the love letters you left on his table replied to with post-it notes that had something along the lines of ‘ thank you for your kind words ’ written along the bottom. every single compliment you pay him in person has failed to fluster him - no matter what you say, he responds with a sincere ‘ thank you ’ and sometimes pays you a compliment back, but you know that he views everything you do and say platonically.

tendou has patted your back apologetically so many times that you think your uniform blouse now bears a permanent mark in the shape of his hand.

the worst part is that you know that he genuinely doesn’t see that you have a crush on him. he’s a very blunt, honest person - one of the reasons why you like him so much - and would probably reject you straight to your face if he knew. it’s a blessing and a curse. a blessing, because it means that you might still have a chance, but a curse, because you have done everything in your power to show him that you are interested in him in a romantic way, yet he still hasn’t picked up on it.

well. . . almost everything.

straight-up confessing to him is the one thing you haven’t tried. it is your last resort, the riskiest choice and the one that requires the most courage. a confession would either free you from the never-ending hell that is trying to subtly hint at the unbelievably oblivious ushijima, but it could also hand him the ability to shatter your heart into a million tiny pieces with just a few words. however, it is quickly becoming more and more apparent that it is also the only way the stoic male will ever get the hint, so you suppose that you’ll just have to bite the bullet and do it.

this is how you find yourself standing in front of the doors to the gym, waiting patiently for the object of your affections to come out. your own club activities ended not too long ago, and you figured the volleyball club would be packing up soon. you were right - you can see tendou picking up the balls around the court, a ball of bright red bobbing up and down next to a very familiar silhouette. it’s almost as if he senses you peeking in through the window, because the boy turns around and spots you, shooting you a discreet grin like he knows what you’re here to do.

other than them, though, the gym seems strangely empty.

tendou disappears into the storage room with an armful of blue and yellow volleyballs, and you take a deep breath. this is it. you have two pints of ben and jerry’s stored away in your fridge just in case. you’re ready. you can do this.

you open the door to the gym, pink already dusting your cheeks as you gather all the courage in your body. the first call of his name is soft, timid, barely more than a whisper, and he obviously doesn’t hear it. you bite your lip before trying again.

“ ushijima ! “

this time, he hears you. he turns, a question in his eyes, and you beckon to him shyly, motioning for him to come outside.

you think you have never felt more fear than when he complies, looking more than a little confused. your heart slams against your ribcage when he steps outside before sliding the door shut and turning to face you expectantly, waiting for you to say whatever it is you had presumably called him outside to say.

“ i. . . um. . . ” now that you’re really about to do it, you realise you don’t quite know what to say. should you just keep it short and simple ? or maybe you should do that whole speech you practiced in the mirror. all the articles run through your mind all at once, and then it occurs to you that it really isn’t too late to run away. you need to calm down.

you take another deep breath, holding it before letting it go, releasing all the tension in your frame as you do so. eight letters, three words. even if you get your heart broken here, it’s okay. you have two pints of ben and jerry’s ready for you at home.

so you look him in the eye with a determination you never knew you had, and you stop fidgeting with the sleeves of your blazer. it’s getting late, and the sky’s already dark - the days never last very long in the winter, and the cold paints your pink cheeks red. ushijima’s expression shifts, though you can’t quite identify it.

“ i like you, ” you begin, and while your voice wavers a little and your cheeks are warm, you continue. “ romantically. i have a crush on you. you don’t have to say anything, but i just wanted you to know. ”

there’s a moment of silence. you’re just about to run away, taking his lack of reaction as a rejection, but then he smiles. under the light of the moon and what leaks through the windows of the gym, his eyes press into crescents and his lips curve upwards. it reassures you, somehow, makes you relax again, catching onto the hidden meaning behind the smile.

you think you’ll take more risks in the future.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi #ushijima imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #yu writes #eagle boys #requested

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leilabeaux · 3 years

Text

In My Sights III

Masterlist | Two

Pairing: Ivar/ Fem Reader

Word Count: 3570

Warning: None? 7 years bad luck?

Summary: A meeting with two brothers from Vestfold takes Ivar off guard.

Author’s Note: Well, this part was a long time coming. That means I will have part four ready next year.

The dining room was sparsely occupied that early afternoon with women who lunch, businessmen on lunch breaks, and their quiet chatter. The Vine had long been considered a historical landmark in Kattegat and was formerly a struggling fine dining restaurant. It had only gained popularity with the upper class once Aslaug Lothbrok, a well-known Götaland socialite who was newly married and new to the city, started to make her presence there. Though it’s popularity faded over the years, it was still preferred by the old money elite. Mostly for the staff’s discretion rather than the food and ambience.

It was for that reason why the Lothbrok sons preferred the establishment for their business lunches. Extra care was also usually taken with a generous tip to the host to ensure no other guests would be seated next to their table but today it was turning out to be a waste of money as the hushed voices from their corner of the room began to grow.

Ivar drummed his fingers against the table as he brought the cup of coffee to his lips, glaring across at his three older brothers. Apparently, the idiots had forgotten the importance of discretion as they were busy bickering over why their associates called for today’s meeting. He hoped the clinking of his cup when he set it down roughly onto the saucer would disrupt their chattering but, to his annoyance, still they continued.

Leaning back in his chair, his left hand mindlessly traced the carved out dragon on his cane, last year’s birthday gift from his dear Uncle Floki, while he scrolled through the day’s news on his phone. One particular article detailed the resignation of a Mercia diplomat after the unexpected death of her eldest son, mentioning that authorities were looking for a red-headed female who was last seen with him for questioning.

Good luck finding her, Ivar thought to himself. He had given up all attempts at trying to find you or any information about you after a year upon your meeting. After coming up empty through hacked databases and facial recognitions, he concluded that you were virtually a ghost or at least knew very powerful people who worked hard to keep you hidden. All he could do was sit and wait until he heard from you again, hoping his right hand and the memories of your last tryst would keep him satisfied till then.

He felt his slacks tighten as he got lost in a memory of you trapped underneath him as he pounded into your sweet cunt. The whines of you begging him to make you come he heard in his head were interrupted when Ubbe pounded his fist on the table, causing the glassware to shake.

“For fuck’s safe, Ivar, get off your fucking phone!” His older brother harshly whispered, checking over his shoulder at the other patrons, finally aware of the scene they were making.

“And why would I do that, dear brother?” Ivar still had his eyes turned down to his phone as he sent you the link of the article and a brief message: You’re on their radar. I wonder what you’re willing to do to make sure I don’t turn you in. Throwing his phone on the table, he raised an eyebrow as he bestowed Ubbe with his undivided attention. “So I can join you fools in biting our fingernails, worrying why they called for a meeting at the last minute?”

“They” were two brothers from Vestfold, owners of a large fishing company based out of their hometown and, most recently, out of Kattegat as well. To the public eye, it was assumed that it was hard work, determination, and a wise investment from Ivar’s father that turned the once struggling business into a multi million dollar success. But the young men currently seated at the table knew that the wise investment was generous compensation throughout the years for hauling more than just fish on their boats. Whether it was guns, stolen art and, for a very brief moment in time, opiates, Halfdan and Harald provided safe transport for anything the Lothbroks were running.

“You're not the least bit worried? What if they’re wanting to pull out of our deal? The Rus are not going to be pleased if we’re not able to deliver their shipment.” Ubbe wrung his hands as he thought of the worst. He was not looking forward to telling the Rus leader of any potential delays. The man wasn’t the most level headed or understanding and honestly, he creeped him out a bit.

Hvitserk nodded his head in agreement. “They might be. Remember, they were wanting a cut of our profits the last time we met with them but Ivar thought it wasn’t a good idea…” He pursed his lips in disapproval before cutting his eyes toward the youngest Lothbrok.

If Ivar had rolled his eyes any harder, he would have given himself a headache. “They’ve been doing the same job for our family for nearly twenty years, nothing more and nothing less, and have been paid fairly for it. Maybe a little too much in my opinion but I will honor our father’s wishes. Still they have no business being greedy. If it wasn’t for the Lothbroks, they would still be hauling fish into a sinking dinghy.”

“There are probably others who are looking for a way to transport their shit and all they need is a smug asshole like Harald to offer his services.” Hvitserk swirled his drink in his glass, taking a sip before continuing. “I think we should give them at least half of what they were wanting.”

Ivar gave an aggravated sigh and was ready to shoot down what he thought was the stupidest thing to come out of his brother’s mouth.

“I don’t know, I think Ivar’s right.” Sigurd chimed in. “They should be grateful for all our father did for them, not bite the hand that feeds them.”

The other men at the table sat in silence as they stared at him in confusion. It was thought that Sigurd would rather eat a bullet than agree with anything Ivar had to say.

“I changed my mind. Give them everything they ask for.” Ivar had joked, he would never admit out loud or to himself that he appreciated his least favorite brother taking his side. Officially done with the conversation, he picked his phone back up. He held back his smile as he read the new message: Anything you want me to do, handsome. But first, you’d have to find me.

Ubbe looked up from behind his nerve-wracked hands toward the lobby and gave a sigh. “Thank gods, they’re finally here...and of course he brought his fucking girlfriend. To our illegal business lunch meeting. Great.”

Hvitserk gave a quick and quiet wolf whistle as his eyes studied the woman on Harald’s arm, from head to toe. “Is that the same one he brought to your birthday party? Didn’t she have different hair and was a bit taller?”

“How can you not tell? I thought you fucked her while cake was being served?” Sigurd questioned.

“All I remember was the back of her head, to be honest.”

Ivar couldn’t hold back the snort at Hvitserk’s comment. Whatever smart ass response that was about to come out died on his tongue as he looked up at the woman that was being led to them. This was definitely a new girlfriend because if you were the one Hvitserk had fucked in the coat check room, he was going to have one less brother.

As always you looked like perfection to him but he knew your presence, or rather your outfit, was causing a bit of a stir in the restaurant especially among the older women who were busy clutching their pearls. From the plunging neckline of the loose dark green silk shirt to the matching miniskirt with a side-slit it was tucked into, your ensemble was far from the acceptable dress code of the Vine but the host knew better than telling Ivar and his brothers that their guest would have to leave, no matter how many complaints he’d get from the other patrons.

“Can you two shut the fuck up before he hears you?” Ubbe scolded Hvitserk and Sigurd before standing up to greet their guests. Shaking Halfdan’s hand before moving onto Harald, “Gentleman, I’m glad you could finally join us.”

Halfdan gave a frustrated sigh as he unbuttoned his suit jacket and plopped himself down on an empty seat. “Believe me, it wasn’t my fault.”

“Oh come on, brother. We didn’t keep you waiting that long.” Harald slapped a hand on his shoulder before parading the young woman on his arm. “Boys, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend Veronica.”

Ivar instantly wished he had ordered something stronger than coffee. He didn’t want to believe for a moment that you would choose to be with someone like Harald but you did warn him before that he hardly knew you.

In his opinion, the Fishmonger wasn’t much to be desired. And if it was money you were after, Ivar’s funds could have kept your excessive shopping addiction quelled more than the mere pennies the other man had. He knew he could satisfy you in that way and others.

Patiently sitting back in his chair, he watched as you politely smiled while you shook hands with each of his brothers. Hvitserk was unaware how close he was to a dinner knife to his thigh after lingering a second too long while kissing the back of your hand. Fortunately, Harald had the good sense to pull you away.

Ivar balanced his weight on his cane as he stood up to introduce himself, taking a risk and gently caressing his thumb against your hand. “Lovely to meet you, Veronica.”

Although you said nothing back, he didn’t miss the small smirk that briefly graced your face letting your alleged boyfriend lead you to your seat.

“I hope you boys don’t mind her being here. I know we try to keep these meetings to ourselves but I’ve been a little busy and this beautiful thing has been missing me.” He kissed the back of your hand, causing you to giggle. “Didn’t even want to take my card and go on a shopping spree.”

“I swear you won’t even hear a peep from me.” You promised, miming zipping your lips closed while you took a seat across from Ivar. “Harry’s shop talk ends up sounding more like gibberish to me anyway!”

Ivar had to focus to not show his confusion when he heard you speak. The words coming out of your mouth sounded as if they were dipped in saccharine and nowhere near the lower sultry tone he was used to. He hoped to himself that you would stay true to your promise and remain silent.

Unfortunately, promises meant nothing to his brothers.

“So what do you do for a living, Veronica?” Sigurd asked while cutting into his beef tenderloin.

You gave him a closed smile, dabbing the corners of your mouth with your napkin as you swallowed your last bite. “Oh my goodness! Nothing as important as what you gents do! I worked in this cute little boutique over in Vestfold before Harry whisked me away!”

“Wow, you must have made a killing in commissions.” Ivar couldn’t resist this opportunity to make you sweat, if that was even possible.

He was sure that hint of confusion on your face seemed authentic to everyone else. “No? Actually, I worked hourly...”

You were cut off by an annoyed groan from Ubbe as he rubbed his face, the food on his plate was barely touched. “Harry...I mean Harald, why did you call this meeting?”

“You couldn’t wait a few more minutes until we were done eating? I’d expect mommy to have taught you some manners.” Harald sighed and tossed his napkin on the table before leaning back in his chair.

Ivar didn’t miss you curling your hand around your knife. The tension surrounding the table definitely wasn’t missed by you.

Before Ubbe could respond, Halfdan had cut into the conversation. “Look, we know the last meeting didn’t go well.”

“Actually, you shot one of our men in the head.” Hvitserk stated, staring at Harald as he made his point.

Halfdan quickly interjected, “One of our captains went rogue. Was convinced by some mysterious buyer to deliver your last load of weapons to them. Don’t worry, we took care of the problem”

The younger Lothbrok brother stayed silent while his brothers voiced out their displeasure. You took a sip from your glass, your eyes cutting back and forth to the men surrounding you.

“Oh, did you?” Ubbe questioned incredulously. “Because there shouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Yes, we did.” Harald finally broke his silence with an emphasis on every word. “The man liked a good drink...a little too much. It was unfortunately only a matter of time until he drunkenly stumbled off his boat. I’m sure the medical examiner we paid off would attest that it was accidental drowning. As for the guns, they’re on another boat with a crew we know we can trust.”

“The buyer? Do you think it was the Saxons?” Sigurd suggested to the table.

“No, they thrive on letting it be known when they screw us over. I suspect they either are or know someone close. In either our circle or yours. I just hope our actions show that we are loyal and can be trusted.” Harald regarded that last statement to Ivar, knowing his silence throughout the exchange meant he was the one he had to win over.

The young man grinned as he sat back in his seat “You know, before you got here, my brothers were saying they didn’t think you deserved any part of our profits but I personally think a five percent cut of every successful shipment is reasonable.”

A smirk slowly spread against Harald’s face. “I think that sounds very reasonable.”

----

Ivar slowly made his way to the front of the restaurant. The remainder of lunch was uneventful other than the mindless chatter of Hvitserk and Sigurd asking you 20 questions. Ubbe promptly left after taking care of the bill and with so few words.

He rolled his eyes in disgust as he watched Harald wrap his arms around you, not even trying to be modest as his hands grabbed your ass. He had to fight the urge to not cut the man’s hands off for touching something that belonged to him.

You squealed and playfully swatted his chest. You gave a quick glance at Ivar as he slowly approached. “Baby, I’ll meet you outside. I just need to touch up my lipstick real quick.”

“Okay, lovely. Don’t be too long, we have a plane waiting on us.” He pressed a quick kiss on your lips before letting you go. He walked out of the restaurant, not even noticing that Ivar was close by.

Your heels clicked on the marble floor and you peeked over your shoulder toward Ivar, giving him a small grin before you made a quick turn into the washroom.

Ivar looked around to make sure there were no eyes on him as he made his way in the same direction as you. He didn’t expect his brothers to worry too much about him. He would’ve been surprised if one of them had waited for him especially since he took his own personal town car to the restaurant.

Before he could even walk through the door, you yanked him in by his tie then pushed him against the adjacent wall. He barely had time to react when he felt your lips against his own. He wrapped his arm around your waist and groaned when your hand tugged down on his locks.

Usually you enjoyed taking your time kissing him, teasing with a soft touch of your hand at the back of his neck, savoring every small whine he made when you nipped on his bottom lip. But today was different as you rushed to deepen the kiss. Both of you knew that if you were gone too long, Harald would come hunting for you.

When you broke away from him, you looked into his eyes, stifling a soft giggle. “Hi there, handsome.” You teased, your voice finally back to normal.

“Gods, that voice you were putting on was annoying.”

“I don’t know. Harald seems okay with it.” You pushed yourself away from him, walking over to the sink and pulled out a tube of lipstick from your clutch.

Ivar stayed put against the wall, watching as you leaned over the sink to look yourself in the mirror.

He repeatedly tapped his cane on the tile, “Is he why you said no?”

“Said no to what?” You stayed focused on reapplying the red color on your lips. You couldn’t help but laugh when you looked up and saw the annoyed look Ivar was giving you.

You smooth a finger around your lips, cleaning up any smudges. “I’m not his girlfriend, Ivar. He thinks I’m the very expensive call girl he hired to keep him company over the weekend. Just your basic girlfriend experience.” You dropped the lipstick back into your clutch before closing it with a snap.

“Your client wants him taken care of?” He walked over and propped his hip against the counter next to you. “That would save me some money in the long run. One less brother to pay.”

“No…” You looked down at the porcelain instead of looking him in the eyes. “I’m just collecting information on him by any means necessary.”

“Any means necessary?” While Ivar usually admired your dedication to committing to your undercover work, he found himself not liking the idea of you following through on this one. “Y/N, please tell me there’s a target on his head.”

You quickly glanced up at him through the mirror before turning to lean against the counter. You crossed your arms in front of your chest. “At the moment, no.”

“Goddammit, Y/N” Ivar pinched the bridge of his nose. Though the thought of someone else hands over your body aggravated him, the idea of another man inside of you incited him. “Are you going to fuck him? Have you fucked him?”

“Ivar…you and your brothers were waiting for a reason. It would have been suspicious if the hooker refused to fuck him.” You stated as if that was a reasonable explanation.

“How much is your client paying you? I’ll double it—fuck it, I’ll triple it if you just walk away now.”

“No one is paying me. I’m on my boss’s orders.”

“And who do you work for again?”

“Tsk, tsk. You already know that if I told you, I’d have to kill you and I don’t want to have to mess up that pretty face. Again.” Pressing up against him, you gently brushed your thumb over the faint scar that went across his cheek. A sweet parting gift from one of your earlier encounters with him.

“Tell me what information you need and I’ll get it for you.” He leaned down and pressed his forehead against yours, closing his eyes. “Just...just don’t go with him.”

You cradled his face in your hands. For a brief moment, there was a look that Ivar had seen on your face before, a mixture of pity and sadness. You shook your head then pressed a gentle kiss on his lips before you walked away from him.

“Please don’t hate me, handsome.” Through the wall length mirror ahead of him, he saw you turn to face him after pausing at the closed door. “You can be mad and you can curse at me until we’re old and grey. Shit, you could even throw another knife at me but I think it would hurt me more if you hated me.”

You waited a moment for him to say or do anything, but when all you got was silence, you walked out of the door.

Ivar took a deep inhale to try to calm the anger that was beginning to flow through his body. He turned toward the mirror, his knuckles going white as he grabbed onto the edge of the sink. No care when his cane falls to the ground with a resounding smack.

When he was younger, he had got into some trouble after he hit a classmate with a rock. The therapist his Uncle Floki took him to after the incident told him to try counting to ten whenever he saw red.

He closed his eyes, letting out an exhale at every count in his head.

On five, he could see you.

Six, Harald slowly walking up behind you.

Seven, him taking you into his arms.

Eight, his tongue sliding up your neck.

Nine, his hand trailing down to your center.

Ten, you softly moaning out Harald’s name.

Ivar screamed out in rage and punched the mirror. He didn’t even notice the pain in his fist until his breathing evened out. He straightened out his tie the best he could with the distorted reflection in front of him. Flexing his injured hand, he reached over and grabbed one of the towels laid out on the counter, wrapping his hand in it.

If Harald didn’t have a target on his head before, he fucking did now.

——

Tags: @xbellaxcarolinax @castielsangelsx @revolution-starter @momowhoo @peachyboneless @punkrocknpearls

@love-all-things-writing @peoniesandbooks5 @spotgaai2000 @walkxthexmoon @youbloodymadgenius @trip2themoon @zo3st3rmonro3

#vikings fanfic #ivar the boneless au #ivar the boneless x reader #ivar the boneless x femreader #alex høgh andersen x fem reader #alex høgh andersen x reader

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hops-hunny · 3 years

Text

Distance Makes the Heart Grow

CHAPTER 7.5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Mafia Boss!Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: (Y/n) lives a normal life. But that’s the issue, it’s normal, it’s plain, and it’s growing boring. Everyday she wishes for something, anything to spice up her life. But, when her old school friend (and crush) shows up at her bakery with a new look (and what looks like a new life), what will it bring for her? Will their puppy love grow? Will his big secret lead to the end of them or will it spark a new beginning?

Warnings: illegal shit, guns, mentions of murder, violence,

A/N: this chapter is dedicated to puff and s0up, ily guys so much <3

“Ah I can’t believe it! It’s finally here, the big day.” Seamus said, pumping his fist in the air as they all sat in the various seats of the van. Although no one had said anything verbally, all of them agreed with the excitement Seamus possessed. Hands itching, palms sweaty, and the determination of one thousand men, they were ready. All the hours spent scoping the place out, training relentlessly with Ginny, and the what if scenarios were finally being put to use. However the one scared the most wasn’t any of the men involved with the mission, it was the timid (Y/n) going along to see her boyfriend- er friend?- off.

Wiping her hands along her pants, she let out another shaky breath as she continued to look out the window. (Y/n) had tried looking at Neville, even holding his hand but she found that she couldn’t. Fear was consuming her. She knew she had no reason to be scared, her life wasn’t in danger and from the looks of their previous work, Neville’s wasn’t either. She had even been caught in one of their missions before and had escaped without a scratch! But there was a difference between being ambushed unexpectedly versus willingly sending someone you care for deeply straight into the jaws of potential danger. The van came to a jolting stop which pulled her from her thoughts, watching as the men filed out of the car. Climbing out, she placed herself into Neville’s awaiting arms. He leaned down, pressing his lips to hers in a soft but passionate kiss.

“I’ll be fine darling, trust me. I’ve done this dozens of times.” she nodded, half assured as he stroked her cheek. ‘Adorable.’ he thought to himself. “Worst case scenario I come out with a few bullets in me which wouldn’t be the first time.” her eyes widened at that, giving him a shocked expression. He laughed some, ruffling her hair. He placed another peck on her soft lips before sighing happily. “That date of ours later is the perfect reward to a job well done. Until then, be good for me.” he winked at her before turning around, walking into the museum. She watched until his figure disappeared before climbing back into the car with Harrison and Twyla.

“Hey! Good news!” she said, turning around to look at the girl in the backseat. “Harrison said we can watch the mission from the cams. I feel like that would be good for you because you’re such a nervous wreck.” she said, patting the girl’s knee with a smile. (Y/n) nodded, smiling back at her weakly. Twyla bit the inside of her cheek as she picked at her own thoughts, looking for something. She checked the clock, eyes lighting up as she turned back to the girl. “We’ve got a bit before they initiate everything so how about we make some snacks to watch it with? I know you haven’t seen the kitchen yet and trust me, you’re gonna love it.” (Y/n) bounced her leg in excitement at the thought of the new kitchen that she had yet to see. “And who knows? Maybe if we have time you can even make something for the boys!”

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

Harrison glared at the blonde agitated at the crumbs falling from her mouth and onto his shoulder. She let out another dramatic moan, licking her fingers clean of the chocolate from the brownies they had made. “Are you done yet? The mission will be commencing soon.” he said, irritation clear in his tone. She shrugged some, plopping down in the cushiony chair on the other side of him.

“Yeah, yeah. I mean if you had one of (Y/n)’s brownies, you’d be the same way.” he eyed her carefully, eye flickering from the plate of frosted brownies back to the girl. Twyla held the plate out to him, nudging him some. Harrison sighed before grabbing one, biting into it. His eyes widened as he made a noise of approval, both of them nodding in agreement as they laughed.

“ ‘S not fair you guys get to eat some of mini bosses treats while we risk our lives, but then you have to rub it in our faces? How cruel! Right George?” Fred’s voice sounded from the monitor.

“Right, how cruel!” he chimed, causing the (h/c) haired girl to giggle. Even on the monitor, their expressions matched the tone of what they were saying. Now that she had saw Harrison’s set up, a lot of the nerves had fled from her. There were numerous computer monitors along with flatscreens along the walls that had many different angles of the boys in their various different positions. The images on the screen were clear as day and in full color, live in action. Her eyes wandered to the monitor that had Neville on it who was with Ron, speaking of something she couldn’t quite hear. She gasped as his head turned, sending a wink into the camera. He lifted a finger to his ear, his voice sounding out as he did so.

“Hi petal, can you see me?” she nodded before realizing he couldn’t see her, pressing the unmute button on her own mic.

“Y-yes! I can see you, hi Nev.” she smiled some as his own smile grew, causing her chest to tighten. He waved some, sending a finger gun her way as they both began to giggle. Twyla watched fondly, smiling at the sight before her own eyes grew wide at the sight of a familiar lean blond man. She practically slammed the unmute button.

“Drayyy!” she screamed, causing the man to jump slightly at the loud noise in his ear. He muttered something before unmuting his ear piece.

“Ever heard of an inside voice, Dundee?” he hissed, causing the girl to cackle some. Even though his words said one thing, the small smile on his face said another. They were practically made for each other despite being total opposites.

“Where’s the fun in that? Anyways! I just wanted to wish you good luck. You guys have got this!” she cheered, causing the man to chuckle some as he shook his head, continuing to keep watch.

“I don’t need much luck today, I have the easiest job. All I have to do is sit and analyze, make sure no one is on our trail.” he replied, continuing to look around. Twyla rolled her eyes at his lack of enthusiasm about his job.

“You know Draco,” (Y/n) started, catching his attention, “Your job could be seen as the most important, if not the most important. If someone were to be onto you guys the whole thing could be ruined! Without you the mission would be a lot harder for everyone involved.” she encouraged, watching as he stood a bit straighter, dusting off his shoulders. Twyla giggled, muting her own mic once more.

“That little egocentric bastard. Of course that’d work!” she said, continuing to laugh before a bell sounded, causing her to give Harrison a confused look.

“It's time. The bell is signaling the start of the action.” the pair watched in awe as all the men straightened up, getting in formation. Although a lot of them were in different rooms, they were all pretty much in sync already. Right as Seamus opened the back door, Harry disabled the security system, causing a set of cameras in the room to fill with static. “Museum security cameras. I hacked them to make sure Harry had disabled them correctly. Harry, grab the tapes from the past few days we’ve been there and bring them to the back door. Seamus will be waiting to receive them to put them in one of the getaway vans out back. After that, return to the security room and disengage the power.” Harry nodded before grabbing the tapes, putting them in a sack beside him before making a brisk walk towards the back entrance. As the last of the men had snuck in, Seamus grabbed the sack from Harry before tossing it to the driver in the van.

“Excellent.” Harrison praised, looking down at the notes and plans Neville had given him to follow. Although Neville formed and created all of the plans, it was up to Harrison to make sure they flowed correctly and could work in the real world, not just paper. “George, Fred, begin trying to get people to clear the exhibit in the most subtle way possible.” he directed. They both nodded before turning to each other, smirking.

“Fire! Evacuate immediately! Everyone get out” they began to scream causing the visitors to scream as well, running and fleaing the building in hopes to escape the supposed fire.

“So much for subtle.” (Y/n) giggled out as the gingers high fived each other. As the last of people slid out, the lights in all of the museum went off, causing concern. However when the mob of people started to run screaming of a fire no one questioned the lights, joining the people and running. However, the museum curators knew something was up, sending security to be sent throughout the building. Many of Neville’s men began to appear from different corners of the museum, engaging in a fight with the museum staff, some of his men getting shot but mainly the museum staff dropping like flies.

“I’d hate to not join in on any of the fun. Ron? Let’s go.” Neville said, chuckling softly as he stomped his cigarette into the ground. They began to run, making their way to the exhibit in which the twins were waiting, already loading the objects they had marked into different cases and bags before handing them off to the cronies to take them to one of the awaiting vans. Neville high fived them before beginning to help.

Meanwhile in Draco’s hall, he was currently fighting off men. He kicked a man in the torso before lifting him, using him as a shield for oncoming bullets. Dropping the man to the ground he jumped into a split, kicking two men in the head before dusting himself off with a smirk. Blaise’s eyes widened from the vents as a man was currently sneaking up on the blond. Without another thought he hopped from the vent sending a kick to the back of the man’s head as he pulled out his dual guns, shooting two men on opposite sides.

“I could’ve gotten that.” Draco said, causing the taller man to roll his eyes.

“Right. Come on we’re done, let’s get to the van. Boss’s orders.” they both began to run, causing Twyla to cheer.

“This is awesome! Look at them go, amazing isn’t it?” she sighed dreamily, watching as they made their way into the van. Harry came out shortly after along with Seamus, leaving the three gingers and Neville in the building to finish things off. (Y/n) turned her eyes to the monitor with Neville on it as he growled, punching a man in the jaw angrily, turning around just in time to shoot the man on his oncoming left. Fred and George were trigger happy, as per usual. They were having a competition between each other to see who could do the coolest trick shot as Ron gathered the remaining things. However Neville started to walk a direction that hadn’t been in the game plan. She looked in confusion as he stopped in front of the necklace set she had been staring at the other day.

“You didn’t think I’d forget, did you? I said you’d look gorgeous in it and I fucking meant it.” and before she could unmute to respond he punched the case, glass shards surrounding his feet as he reached in yanking out not only the necklace and earrings, but the tiara as well. “I know you didn’t ask but this is more so for my own pleasure. I wanna see my princess in a crown.” he tucked the objects into his suit jacket before running out, not even noticing the bleeding in his hand.

“Nev! Your hand is all bloody, you’ve gotta get home soon before it gets infected!” she wailed out, rubbing at her face nervously. The van door slammed as he climbed in, chuckling softly as he relaxed in his seat.

“Don’t worry love. As long as we’re going on that date, I don’t give a shit about my bloody hand.”

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

As the boys made their way through the door, they all were panting, breathing hard from the heavy activity they had just done. However, despite their tired expressions, none of them seemed to be upset. In fact, they all were ecstatic at the success of the mission. Besides a few scratches, cuts, and wounds, everyone had made it out safely. All of them looked up, gasping at the sight in front of them.

All along the table and counters were various different baked goods of all sorts. Pies, four layer cakes, cupcakes, tarts, cheesecakes, anything they could’ve possibly thought of, all in front of them. Blaise chuckled at the large pitcher of butterfly pea tea, happy that the woman had remembered his deep enjoyment of it. (Y/n) made her way in front of them, smiling as she rubbed her arm sheepishly.

“I thought you guys might enjoy a little snack after your mission but I couldn’t decide what to make, so I just decided to make a bit of everything. I..I hope that’s okay.” she trailed off, noticing their silence. As many pairs of arms made their way around her, she stumbled trying to maintain her up right position, giggling at the many praises and thank yous. Out the corner of her eye she spotted a familiar figure trying to sneak off for a plate. “Not so fast! I’ve gotta take care of that hand!” (Y/n) grabbed Neville by his good hand, dragging him off towards the restroom. Once they got there she looked at his hand, examining the damage.

“I know you’re going to hate me for it but, that was worth it. I’d do it again if it was something that would make you happy.” he said, chuckling to hide the wince as she turned his wrist. A lot of the wounds were still open, bits of glass in them. Sighing she shook her head, grabbing a pair of tweezers from the cabinet.

“Hold still.” she huffed out, beginning to pick out the shards as gently as she could. He winced, swearing under his breath as he tried to keep a cool composure. It was less of it hurting, and more of the feeling of his hand pulsating combined with the quick movements of the tweezers. She looked at him before back at his hand, biting his lip. “I..I’m going to do something. Don’t mention this to anyone, okay?” he nodded, curious of what she was going to do. WIthout another word her (e/c) eyes fixated on his hand, squinting at it as if she was focusing hard. Before he could ask what she was doing, his own eyes widened as his cuts began to disappear, closing as if they had never been there.

“How did- you- what the hell was that?!” he asked, a mix of freaked out and amazed. Sure he was a wizard, he had seen many unbelievable things throughout his lifetime. But nothing even close to that. She grabbed his now healed hand, tangling their fingers together.

“It’s a gene that runs in my family. They thought it had died out with my grandmother but it got passed down to me, it just blossomed later in life than it should’ve. I’m still not too sure of what it is or the extent to it, but it’s a different form of magic that I can control with my eyes.” she leaned forward into him, yawning softly. “I don’t use it often though. Only when I really see fit.” he hummed, nodding along to her words. She never failed to make him amazed by her existence and yet just when he thought she couldn’t get any cooler once again was she proving him wrong. They sat in silence, holding one another before he remembered the crown in his coat pocket. Pulling it out, he placed it on top of her head before turning her to the mirror. Although she was only in sweats, he thought she looked like absolute royalty.

Placing a kiss to the top of her head where the crown was cut out he smiled. He bowed, kneeling before her as he grabbed her hand raising it to his lips.

“Your majesty.”

“You’re such a geek, Nev!”

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#neville x you #neville longbottom x you #neville x reader #neville longbottom x reader #Neville Longbottom #Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #mafia!neville #mafia!au

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unbridgeabledistances · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Sandy and Debbie break up and Ian and Mickey each take a side. During the fall out Ian worries that Mickey has the same complaints about Ian that drove Sandy to break up with Debbie. But in the end Mickey reassures Ian that their relationship is nothing like theirs.

hi!<3 thank u so much for this prompt, it was so fun to write! hope u enjoy:)

also this scenario could take place anytime between ep 2 and ep 3 of s11, because ian still has his warehouse job

“Jesus, Debbie, calm the fuck down. You’re being dramatic”

“Sandy, if you call me dramatic one more time, I swear to god. I’m not trying to be controlling I’m just asking you where you were last night, which is a perfectly reasonable question—”

“Reasonable if you were my mother, maybe, but I can go wherever the fuck I want without you needing to smother me all the time! I was on a run with Terry, because I have no money and don’t really know what to do with myself, and I’m never fucking good enough for you, and that’s literally all you need to know—”

“Trouble in paradise,” Mickey commented as he poured Ian some coffee, breaking the silence in the kitchen, where everyone was staring at their breakfasts and listening to the voices shouting upstairs.

Ian rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Debs isn’t known to be the most… secure partner in a relationship.”

“You can say that again,” added Liam, wrapping his poptart in a napkin and shoving it into his backpack. “I’m just gonna eat on the way to school. It doesn’t seem like this screaming is going to stop anytime soon, and while you and Mickey having sex twice a day is bad enough, Debbie and Sandy having a lover’s quarrel has somehow pushed me over the edge.”

Ian smirked and sipped his coffee. “Can you drop Franny off on the way?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Liam led Franny out of the kitchen, where Ian and Mickey remained, listening to Debbie’s shrill voice drifting through the floorboards.

“Fine, if I can’t know what’s going on in your life, I guess you don’t need to be in mine anymore!”

“Are you fucking serious, Debbie? Why do you need to know where I am, you can barely handle knowing the whereabouts of your own kid—”

Ian and Mickey traded raised eyebrows while Ian silently took a bite of toast.

“Sandy, get out of this house! I don’t need you and your illegal bullshit anyways, all you’re doing is putting me and Franny at risk with Terry and all of his issues—”

“Okay, little miss perfect, but don’t expect me to give a shit when you come crawling back.”

“Fine!”

The door upstairs finally slammed, and seconds later Sandy came stomping down. She looked at Ian.

“Your prissy fucking sister is a pain in my ass. The sooner your whole family realizes that your garbage father is as bad as Terry is, the sooner you’ll hop off of your superiority complex over the Milkoviches and realize that your way of surviving is literally the same as ours.”

Sandy shoved past the kitchen table and out the back door.

Ian breathed out a laugh. “Well, that was an eventful morning.”

“I’ll say,” Mickey agreed, looking at the door Sandy had just walked through. “Do you think I should go talk to her or some shit?”

Ian shrugged. “Nah, I’m sure it’s fine. I’m sure Sandy’ll grow up and apologize for whatever illegal shit she was doing with Terry, Debs will calm down, and everything will go back to the way it was.”

Mickey looked slightly uncomfortable as he placed his mug down on the table. “I mean, she has got a point. I’m sure whatever Sandy was up to was no big deal, Debbie doesn’t need to be freaking out.”

Ian scoffed. “Yeah, if getting involved in all of your dad’s shit is no big deal. Sandy could at least tell Debs whatever she’s up to, that sounds pretty fair to me.”

Mickey stood up, clearing their plates and walking over to the sink. “Whatever, Gallagher. I’m just saying Sandy does have a point about you being marshmallows. If she’s not telling Debbie what she’s up to, it’s probably for her own good.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Mick? Last time you disappeared on a run with your dad without telling me where you were, I literally thought you murdered our PO. How is that better than just telling me you’re hawking some stolen guns or whatever you get up to?”

Mickey distractedly wrung his hands with the dish towel, looking sightly pissed and defensive that Ian would even bring up that onslaught of memories, of their almost-wedding and Ian’s rejection at the courthouse and everything that followed.

“I don’t know, asshole. Maybe because Sandy’s right, and you all can be a little judgy about all the illegal shit. I get that you’re a goody two shoes breaking your fucking back in a warehouse, but that doesn’t mean that everyone needs to work their ass off to make minimum wage like you. I used to do shit for my dad all the time, so does Sandy and she doesn’t need anyone to be her keeper.”

Ian rolled his eyes, taking a final sip of coffee and standing up. “Alright, whatever. I’m gonna be late.” He pecked the top of Mickey’s head as he put his mug in the sink. “Enjoy your hard day’s work of watching TV and jacking off.”

Mickey turned and flipped him off as Ian strode out of the room.

Later that day, as Ian was mechanically checking expiration dates on an order of off-brand crackers, he couldn’t help but replay he and Mickey’s conversation from that morning over and over in his mind. Was Mickey seriously going to defend Sandy for sneaking with Terry behind Debbie’s back? He knew Mickey didn’t give a shit about making minimum wage right now, but was Mickey really going to spend the rest of his life following in his dad’s footsteps, depending on his next heist for cash? And, worst of all, did that mean he was going to live a life of feeling like he needed to hide every move from Ian? Ian knew what he was signing up for when they got married, that being with Mickey always meant some level of scamming and schmoozing; but for some reason, he thought that now that Mickey and his dad had fallen out that Mickey’s existence would stop being so constantly on the brink of incarceration.

He’d expected marriage to be a partnership—but so far, it felt like he and Mickey were on different pages about pretty much everything.

When Ian finally made it home and stumbled in the front door, tired and bleary, Sandy was still noticeably absent from the Gallagher house. Debbie and Franny were in the kitchen, along with Liam who was muddling through his homework at the table. Ian went upstairs and found Mickey laying on their bed, watching some sort of video on his phone at full volume. He didn’t look up when Ian came into the room.

“Hey, Mick. Can we talk for a sec?” Ian asked, taking off his hat and coat and gingerly placing them on the bottom corner of the bed.

Mickey still didn’t look up from his phone. “Don’t know what the fuck you want to talk about.”

Ian sat on the edge of the bed. “Did… Sandy and Debbie make up yet?”

Mickey huffed. “What d’you think.”

“Guess not. How’s Sandy doing?”

“Don’t know, haven’t heard from her yet. Figure she’s just off somewhere blowing off some steam.”

Ian approached the next topic with caution.

“So, uh, I was thinking. And I think we need to talk again about, y’know, our mutual expectations.”

“This shit again? Listen, we already did this, I know we agreed that we aren’t fucking other people—"

“No, no I mean about other stuff. Not even the money stuff again really, just like… if you’re ever going to go back to doing the shit that Terry does. For example.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about man, you know I don’t talk to that asshole anymore.”

“I know, but—what if you want to do stuff with Sandy, or someone makes you an offer for a big job? What if you end up in jail again? What if you feel the way Sandy does and you feel like you need to hide all this stuff from me, meanwhile I’m just here working my ass off trying to make a life for us—”

Mickey paused the video and finally looked up from the phone.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Gallagher?”

Ian ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t know. I just… I don’t want you to not tell me shit, the way Sandy was with Debbie. I’d rather know what illegal bullshit you’re up to, even if you think it’s going to piss me off. I… I don’t want to lose you again. I don’t want you to have to lie to me, and I don’t want you to go to jail again. I just wanna be on the same page.”

Ian inched his hand over the covers and placed it on top of Mickey’s as he kept talking.

“I know we’ve been fighting a lot lately, not agreeing on stuff. But I just…want you to know that I’m in this. I love you, I’m your fucking husband. I want us to work together, and I don’t want you to think that I can’t handle anything, or that we can’t tackle everything together.”

Ian looked down at their hands, letting the silence swell as he traced Mickey’s palm with his thumb.

“Hey, Gallagher. Look at me.”

Ian met Mickey’s eyes—Mickey was looking directly at him, unguarded and open. It reminded him of the look on Mickey’s face when he had tried to break up with Mickey the first time, back when they were both kids sitting on the front stoop and Mickey had sprinted over when Ian called; when Mickey had split himself open, had told Ian how much he loved him, through sickness and health and everything they were about to go through.

“Sandy’s got her own bullshit to learn. About people caring about her, caring where she is, caring if she throws her life away. But I’ve been here this whole time, and I’ve learned that. Why do you think I used to throw myself into as much risky bullshit as I could, before I was locked up? I was losing myself in everything, because all I ever wanted was this.”

He put his hand up to Ian’s face—a small gesture, but probably the most intimate touch he’d given Ian in weeks. It stung like ice and fire on Ian’s cheek, like electricity was flickering where his fingertips met Ian’s skin.

“I’ve pointed a glock at my asshole dad’s head and been willing to take the bullet for this. I’m not getting involved in any shit that can take you away from me, Gallagher. Am I going to stop forging my payroll for my PO? Or stop selling shitty expired brownie mix? Probably not. But I’m not gonna do anything risky, anything that might take me away from you for good. Never was.”

Ian sighed. He was being stupid, and he knew that. But between all of their senseless bickering the last few weeks, he couldn’t help but worry that Mickey was feeling more and more indifferent about this whole marriage situation, or getting restless about being pinned down. He listened earnestly as Mickey continued talking.

“How many times have I told you—my family was never there for me. You’re the only family I need. And I made that shit official when I put a ring on your finger, or I guess when I forced you to put one on mine. I’ve always been there for you, I’m always gonna be there for you. We fought long and hard enough for this, Gallagher. You just gotta believe in me.”

There it was—that fondness in Mickey’s eyes, the softness that he tried to hard to hide, but showed up anyways as he was tying Ian’s tie, or holding him close through a wave of depression, or kissing his forehead when he gave Ian his meds. Mickey was never going to let anything come between them again, not after all the pitfalls and heartbreak they’d been through—Ian realized that now, even more than he already had.

“I know, Mick. I believe you.”

“You’d better, asshole. Now c’mere.”

Mickey led Ian’s chin forward, and their lips met—just a ghost of a touch, at first, but it made Ian grab the back of Mickey’s neck and pull him in closer, fiercely slotting their lips together again and again.

They broke apart, and Ian smiled sheepishly. “Sorry for freaking out.”

“I’m all yours, Mr. Milkovich. Whatever shit our families get into can’t change that.”

#shameless #gallavich #gallavich fic #shameless fic #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #debbie gallagher #sandy milkovich

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writer-room · 3 years

Text

Siblings: Chapter Three

AO3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Summary: The Bats reflect on how their thoughts about siblings have changed over the years. Some opinions stayed, others didn't.

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

Jason was glad he didn’t have any siblings.

There was a point in his life where he longed for an older brother or sister, when he was younger and fluctuating in and out of his mom's apartment that smelled like a different drug every week. Someone to teach him the ropes and beat up the bigger kids when they stole the food he’d found or the pocket money he’d snatched up.

Nowadays he was grateful he didn’t have anyone to share resources with.

Sure, he didn’t have anyone looking out for him, but that was for the best. He couldn’t learn how to survive on his own if he didn’t get hit a few times, right?

And a younger sibling was out of the question. He couldn’t look after some toddler while he was barely functioning himself. Hell, if he had an older sibling, he wouldn’t have blamed them if this hypothetical sibling ditched him after a month tops.

Attachments in Crime Alley were for people who made gangs, who had followers or brothers-in-arms. That was the best you could get, but don’t expect any of them to risk their lives for you.

A sibling would’ve been seen as a weakness. Someone others could torment to get what they wanted out of him.

He really didn’t want to think about another kid being stuck in this dump with him, either.

It was one of the small mercies of life, that he didn’t have any kin to drag him down.

“Why are you here, again?”

“Because unlike you, Father prefers someone do their job efficiently.”

Jason snorted, side-stepping the henchman who charged him, kicking his leg out and letting him slam his face right into an alley wall.

“I think blasting heads is pretty efficient,” Jason said, twirling one of said guns in his hand as Damian kicked in the face of a second henchman. “But, alas, I’ll have to settle for horrible maiming.” He said, pausing to shoot two fleeing men in the backs of their legs, sending them toppling to the ground.

“Change of heart?” Damian grunted, kicking a goon in the back and using the motion to body-slam into another. “I didn’t think you were capable of such a thing.”

“You wish,” Jason snorted. “Unfortunately, Nightwing would break his no-murder rule just for me if he knew I dared kill in the presence of his majesty with nobody else to be a buffer.” He said with a remorseful sigh.

“Tt,” Damian rolled his eyes, he always made an exaggerated head motion when he did like he was making sure people could tell through the whites of his mask.

“He’s foolish to think that would do anything.” He said, picking up the unconscious body of one of the goons he’d knocked out and tossing it to the side of the alley. “I’ve killed far more than you could dream of.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Jason said, his tone bordering on babying. “But, yeah, ol’ Wing’s got his priorities weird.” He shrugged, letting off another shot when he saw one of the men try to grab what looked like a knife from their scattered supplies.

“Maybe he’s just afraid of us bonding.” He continued, watching as Damian stood before four men splayed on the ground by broken wooden boxes, only two of them barely conscious and cowering away.

“And what, pray tell,” Damian said, psyching out the men by jerking towards them, startling them back against the wall, before turning to Jason with an unamused look. “Would you think to bond over?”

“Let’s see,” Jason hummed, leaning back against the opposite alley wall, gun resting on his shoulder as he counted off his fingers. “History with the League of Assassins, died at one point, killed people, fairly badass if I do say so myself, mothers with horrible morals, should I go on?” He said with a grin.

Damian paused for a moment, eyes narrowed. He thought for a moment before raising his head again to meet Jason’s gaze, a surprising lack of unbridled fury in them.

“Does that not also apply to Orphan?”

Jason paused, caught off-guard. He frowned, recounting off the points he made before staring at Damian, glad that his helmet hid his disturbed expression.

“Damn,” Jason whistled. “Guess the three of us need to bond sometime.”

“I’m sure she will enjoy being included,” Damian hummed, looking over his gloves as one of the seemingly unconscious men behind him opened his eyes. “Though I imagine Father would have some complaints about--”

Now, in Jason’s defense, he hadn’t been paying attention to Bane’s goons. As far as he was concerned, the fight was over. Which was why his attention was on Damian, and not anything around Damian.

Which meant that when one of the men who had been playing possum behind Damian jumped to his feet, gripping one of the wooden boards from the broken boxes in his hand, he barely flinched. In one movement, the man swung the plank of wood like a one-armed batter, connecting with Damian’s head.

Jason jerked the moment the wood hit, immediately sending Damian right to the pavement. He was firing off a shot before he even registered aiming it. The man yelped, falling back and clutching his side as he screamed out swears.

Jason ignored him in favor of crouching down while cursing under his breath, shaking Damian. The kid was blanked for a good few seconds before he jerked and stirred. Not too bad of a hit, not even out for more than a minute. He blinked his eyes rapidly, grumbling incoherently as Jason wrapped an arm around his front, drawing Damian up to his chest.

“B’s gonna kill me,” Jason grumbled, tightening his hold on the boy as he weakly felt around, gripping onto Jason’s arm.

The man wasn’t screaming as much as before, but he was still shouting as he gripped the wooden plank again, yelling about how he was gonna kill Jason or something. He wasn’t really in the mood to care.

Instead, he turned around, still holding Damian upright as he tried to regain consciousness. The man, with one hand still clutching his side, was raising the plank of wood again and waving it wildly around.

“Oh would you shut up?” Jason snapped, aiming his gun.

He fired off two more shots. He didn't pay attention nor particularly worry about where the bullets hit. The man finally slumped against the alley wall, weakly holding himself together and finally shutting his mouth.

Jason holstered his gun, freeing his other hand to wrap around Damian’s chest and hoist him up. Damian was shaking his head, eyes still blinking rapidly.

“The hell?” Damian mumbled.

“B talk to you with that mouth?” Jason lightly teased, shaking Damian slightly.

Despite that, he still scooped up Damian, letting his head lay on his shoulder as he supported him.

“If you bite me for this, I’m dropping you off the first roof I see.” Jason threatened, stepping over one of the other men strewn out on the ground. “I know you haven’t gotten rabies shots, and I’m not taking that chance.”

There were balconies and window sills along the building to the left of the alley, so he used that. One arm kept a muttering and waking up Damian situated while he jumped between the balconies and used his free hand to grab onto the windowsills. It was a slower going than he normally liked, but he figured carrying Damian like a football wouldn’t go over too well.

The second his head popped up over the roof, he was greeted with the sight of black boots with thick blue stripes. One of the feet was softly tapping with slight impatience.

“Goddamnit,” Jason cursed, thunking his head on the edge of the roof, which was pretty uncomfortable considering his helmet was in the way and he was currently dangling by one arm about four stories up.

“I should’ve figured the sounds of murderous screaming were caused by you.” Dick said, crouching in front of Jason with a cheeky grin that crinkled his domino mask. “Having fun?”

“Right now? Worst time I’ve had in weeks,” Jason huffed, pulling himself up higher to reveal Damian hanging off his shoulder.

Dick’s smile dropped instantly. He reached out as Jason offered Damian to him, quickly taking the kid in the gentlest way that only Dick could pull off. Jason almost teased him for it, treating someone like Damian of all kids as fragile. He could be hit by a semi-truck and walk it off like it was an inconvenience.

But Dick was clearly on the brink of having a panic attack, and it wasn’t any fun teasing him when that was happening. All it did was rile him up in the ‘I’m going to curl in a corner and try not to cry’ way and not the superiorly funnier ‘I’m going to punch your teeth in’ way like Damian or Tim.

“He’s fine,” Jason assured him, rolling onto the roof as Dick pushed Damian somewhat upright. At least the kid could properly hold his head up now. “Just took a blow to the head, was barely out for a second. More stunned than anything, I think.”

“Being knocked out is not fine.” Dick stressed, holding onto Damian tighter as he started growling and weakly trying to push Dick away.

“He’s getting better!” Jason huffed, gesturing towards him. “The brat’ll live. Honestly, you didn’t treat the rest of us like glass this after we died.”

“You lost all pity for it when you tried to kill everyone and bring up your death every five minutes,” Dick deadpanned, his worry breaking the moment his gaze left Damian. “And for the record, I do worry about you the same way, it’s just that Dam--Robin here is still a child.”

“Don’t patronize me,” Damian grumbled, still trying to peel Dick’s hands off him.

“He speaks!” Jason gave a sarcastic cheer. “Think you’ll live to see another day?”

“What even happened?” Dick demanded, ignoring Jason’s comments as he stood, helping Damian to his feet.

“Took out some of Bane’s lackeys down there,” Jason said, pointing where he came from with his thumb. “Kid presumably ran off from the old man again and decided to grace me with his presence and help out. Just got a little distracted, he’s fine.”

“Please don’t tell me you killed the guy who did this,” Dick begged, giving Jason an apprehensive look.

“First of all, if I did, he’d deserve it.” Jason said, crossing his arms. “Second of all, no, I didn’t...I think,” He frowned, looking back towards the direction of the alley. “I didn’t actually check. Shot him a few times, though.”

“Okay, okay, stop,” Dick said, raising a hand up. “Every word out of your mouth is making me more anxious by the minute. I’d rather not know.”

“Oh, so when I kill people, it’s a heinous act,” Jason scoffed. “But when a certain ex-assassin lady and demon child kill someone, suddenly you can make excuses.”

“I do not make excuses--”

Damian, with one of his arms freed, batted at Dick with increasing violence until his brother finally released him with obvious hesitation.

“If you two are done bickering like schoolgirls over makeup,” Damian gruffed, pushing himself away. “I believe we are finished here.”

“You could’ve changed ‘schoolgirls’ to ‘Dick and anyone with eyes’ and your statement would’ve stayed the same.” Jason muttered.

“The only thing you know about makeup is how to cover bruises.” Dick retorted, hands on his hips.

“And you only know how to look like a drag queen with excessive glitter.”

“I’ll have you know I look amazing in drag.”

“Obviously, but that is literally the only makeup you know--”

Jason only cut himself off when Damian attempted to roll his eyes and leave without them, instead swaying and stumbling into his steps. He shot out a hand and grabbed Damian by the back of his cloak like the scruff of a cat, holding him up.

“You wanna do this the easy way or the hard way?” Jason said, pulling him back. “Because I’m not against harming a child if it means I can get you back to the Manor in three pieces at worst.”

Damian growled and looked like he was contemplating spitting on him. Jason held his gaze, knowing that if he took off his helmet to give a proper glare that Damian would take the moment of broken eye contact to bolt or something equally stupid.

Dick’s eyes shifted between the two of them with a mix of nervousness and confusion.

“...you will be the one to inform Orphan of the bonding meeting, and will be the one to keep her from doing anything abnormally ridiculous, and whatever other messes she causes during and after.” Damian negotiated slowly.

“Deal,” Jason released Damian, pushing him towards Dick. “Can we go now? I’m getting bored of this already.”

“You’re so impatient,” Dick tutted, looking like he was about to pick up Damian before thinking better of it and deciding to just wrap an arm around his side. “And what did he mean by bonding? Are you two actually getting along?” He gasped in a melodramatic fashion.

“We’re bonding over dying, the League of Assassins, and terrible mothers.” Jason said calmly as Dick pulled out his grappling gun, pausing at Jason’s words.

“And killing people,” Damian added.

“And killing people,” Jason nodded wisely. “We’re getting Cass in on it, too.” He said, sidestepping away from Damian’s attempt to kick him and muttering about using names.

“...as the responsible one, I cannot, in good faith, recommend having an amatuer group therapy session.” Dick said after a moment. “As your brother, however, I commend you getting a hobby that doesn’t involve maiming someone.”

“It’s not group therapy,” Jason scoffed, patting his belt down, wondering if he’d remembered to grab a grappling hook of his own. “We’re not softies who talk about our feelings to professionals like some commoners. We bad-mouth traumatic events like the well-adjusted people we are.” He said matter-of-factly.

“You can’t bully me about going to therapy but then get pissy when I so much as joke about leaving.”

“I can and we will.” Jason said, to which Damian nodded in agreement. “Someone in this family has to convince the little ones to find a non-murderous psychiatrist.”

“You realize that you count as one of the ‘little ones,’ right?” Dick raised a brow. “You’re younger than me.”

“I’m an adult.”

“You count as a little one in my heart.”

Jason and Damian made over exaggerated gagging noises, to which Dick rolled his eyes at, despite his smile, as he withdrew his grappling gun.

“Oh hush, both of you. We’ve got a certain someone to check for a concussion.” He chastised.

“I do not have a concussion.” Damian insisted.

“We’re checking, anyway.”

Damian groaned dramatically, Jason snickering as he shook his head, Dick giving his--their--little brother a light scolding.

They were all going to be the second death of him, he swears.

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yourfaceislikeabluemoon · 4 years

Text

You’re Gonna Be the Death of Me, I Swear

Words: 9.7k

Warning: A decent amount of language throughout with the majority in the last scene, kissing (starts out fairly innocent but gets raunchier as the fic progresses), teacher/student roleplay if you squint, Changbin calls Hyunjin pup/puppy, grinding but barely, brief mentions of jacking off, just a hint of angst, crying and apologies, marking/love bites, praise (they both clearly have praise kinks but it’s never explicitly mentioned), brief nipple play/licking/biting, blowjob, frottage (Changbin jerks them off at the same time), lots of dirty talk, Hyunjin has a filthy mouth but is also a whiny baby, cum play/eating, spanking, ass eating, fingering, very brief degradation, barebacking (practice safe sex y’all), cumming inside, and brief innuendos.

A/N: hey, I’m back with another member x member fic! this one is a lot dirtier than the last one oops 🤭 Changjin has been living in my mind rent free this entire comeback so I just had to write something and ‘Kissing Practice’ is one of my favorite tropes and so this filth was born! so yeah, my brain has actually been coming up with ideas lately, which is basically a miracle considering the wasteland it was for 6+ months straight. as always, I hope you enjoy this and please let me know what you think! it really motivates me to write more and I appreciate every single one of you that takes time out of their day to read what I write, thank you so so much! oki enjoy hehe ❤

“Forget it. It’s stupid, I know. Forget I even asked.”

“No, wait!” Changbin called after Hyunjin, who had stood up from his spot on the couch to head off to his room. Hyunjin sighed tiredly and turned back around to face his older groupmate. “Why me?”

Eyebrows knit together, Hyunjin returned to his space next to Changbin. “Why not you?”

Bin let out a broken noise, trying to formulate his words properly, “No, I mean why not Chan or Minho? Why was I the hyung you came to?” When Hyunjin’s expression morphed into that of an abandoned puppy, Changbin held up his hands, “Not that I don’t want to help you! You know I’ll always help you when you ask-- and, and I’m not trying to get out of it or anything. Just, why me? Wouldn’t Chan be better at this sort of thing? I don’t know, seniority or something.”

Hyunjin chuckled at Bin’s babbling, shaking his head as he looked down at his own lap. “First of all, I’m scared of Minho.” Changbin couldn’t hold back his laughter and Hyunjin shrugged but laughed along with him. “Second, everyone but Felix knows Chan’s been pining after Felix for years and I don’t want to feel like a homewrecker even though feelings aren’t attached, you know?”

“Good point. Chan needs to grow a pair, honestly. Like what’s the worst that could happen? Felix giggles at him?” Bin let a rush of air out of his nose at the image that popped into his head before turning back to a grinning Hyunjin who was nodding in agreement.

“Yeah,” the younger continued, “So as you can see, that leaves me with one hyung. You.”

Changbin gave him an unamused look, “So I’m a last resort.”

Hyunjin shook his head again, a faint blush appearing on his cheeks. “No, you’re really not. You’re the one that likes my lips so much. I figured you’d be the one who wouldn’t feel completely tortured if you went along with my proposal. Maybe you wouldn’t mind it. I was probably wrong in assuming that. I’m sorry.”

“You aren’t wrong,” Bin denied adamantly. Realizing how eager he sounded, he quickly calmed himself down and cleared his throat. “Everyone thinks you have nice lips, not just me.”

Leaning a bit closer, Hyunjin lowered his voice, “I think you like them more than the others do, though.”

Changbin gulped but tried to look casual, “Maybe I do.”

“Then, what do you say?” Hyunjin tilted his head and stared at the elder with interest, wide-eyed and waiting.

Bin couldn’t make eye contact. He stared at an empty soda can sitting on the coffee table as thoughts whirled around in his head like a tornado. Should he say ‘yes’? Would he be risking everything he had worked so hard to conceal? Was this bound to end in disaster if he went along with it?

He bit the bullet.

“OK.”

The thing is, Hyunjin’s ‘proposal’ wasn’t exactly expected, to say the least. Essentially, Hyunjin had sought out Changbin in order to ask him to be the one to teach the younger how to kiss. He claimed that he had no experience and didn’t know how; he didn’t want to be a total fuck up when the time came around where he needed this particular skill. So, he decided to ask one of his hyungs for help, to teach him, and to help him practice.

Changbin was, quite honestly, flabbergasted. The prettiest human being he had ever had the privilege of observing was telling him that they had no experience and was asking him for lessons in the form of basically making out. There was a teeny tiny red flag that shot up in the back of Changbin’s mind as he processed Hyunjin’s ‘proposal’, but apparently it wasn’t enough of a deterrent to keep his emotions from controlling his decision-making because he agreed to it without much persuasion. Changbin was determined that, in the end, Hyunjin would not be a total fuck up when it came to kissing, even if that meant he had to put himself through hell trying to keep his feelings out of the equation.

Hyunjin admittedly felt a little guilty when he plopped down on Changbin’s bed a couple days later and asked, “So, is it time for my first lesson yet?”

He had been wanting to kiss Changbin pretty much since the moment they met. Lying about not having experience and needing help was the strategy he had finally brainstormed to get his way. He had the smallest hint of feeling like he would regret this idea but he blamed Changbin and his doll lips for ultimately giving into temptation.

The older swiveled around in his desk chair to face Hyunjin. “I suppose. But are you sure you want me to be your first kiss?”

Hyunjin coughed and tripped over his own words, “It-it’s just p-practice! It doesn’t really c-count as the-the-as the real thing!”

Changbin gently smiled at him but Hyunjin couldn’t tell if the flash in his eyes was of pain or pity. He decided to ignore it since neither would make him feel any better. Changbin was about to push himself out of his chair but Hyunjin stopped him, “Um, I’ll-I’ll come over there.”

The sudden raise of his eyebrows gave away the fact that Changbin was somewhat startled by Hyunjin’s statement but he nodded curtly as permission, “Whatever you’re comfortable with.” He relaxed back into his chair as Hyunjin shyly made his way over. The younger stopped about a foot away from Changbin’s knees and gulped, genuinely nervous as hell.

“So, should I just…” Hyunjin didn’t know if he was supposed to wait for instruction or if he was meant to just dive in. Changbin raised a brow, challenging this time, and waited to see if Hyunjin really would make the first move. Sure enough, he stepped slightly closer, let out a quick breath, and leaned forward, placing a hand on each armrest before quickly pecking Changbin’s lips. “There. How was that?”

Changbin’s brain took a moment to process the question, eventually coming to the conclusion that teasing would prompt the most favorable outcome a.k.a. Hyunjin pouting in frustration. “How was what?”

Bingo. Hyunjin huffed angrily, brows knitted together and lips pushed out in the anticipated pout. He balled his fists at his sides and slowly unclenched them. Leaning back in, he placed a slightly longer peck on Changbin’s lips but retreated just as fast as the first time. He gestured sharply, “That.”

“That?” Changbin asked, pointing at his own lips. Hyunjin inclined his head and his expression could only read ‘duh’. “That wasn’t a kiss.”

A fire lit behind Hyunjin’s eyes and he snarled, “Then what, Seonsaengnim, is?”

Changbin smirked daringly and patted his thigh, “Take a seat, haksaeng.”

Hyunjin matched the older’s smirk and, licking his lips seductively, he eased himself into Changbin’s lap, one thick thigh on either side. It was a little awkward in the desk chair but something about squeezing in so close together made it all the more thrilling. Changbin’s hands immediately found the younger’s hips, earning a shiver when he gripped at them roughly.

The elder was completely calm, steely gaze wandering Hyunjin’s features while Hyunjin felt just as inexperienced as he was pretending to be, panting already. Bin slid his hand up Hyunjin’s side to rest his pointer finger under his chin. The pad of his thumb pressed into the younger’s plush lower lip as he gently guided him forward. Hyunjin obediently let himself be pulled closer, eyes slipping closed at the delicate touch.

When Changbin slotted their lips together, he felt Hyunjin instantly melt into him and he resisted the urge to grin at his silent victory. He pulled back with a soft smacking noise before pressing his lips to Hyunjin’s again. After a few careful, sweet kisses to start off, the older drew back and looked at the boy in his lap who was chasing his lips with his eyes still closed. Changbin let out a quiet chuckle, “Eager puppy.”

Hyunjin whined and pouted again, eyes finally opening to look at Changbin. “Feels nice,” he mumbled under his breath as he glanced off to the side, somewhat embarrassed to make too much eye contact.

Bin hummed, “That’s nothing. Wanted to start you off easy though. Didn’t want to rush you at the very start.” He caressed the side of his face, thumb running over the soft skin of Hyunjin’s cheekbone before something in his brain alerted him that he was letting his feelings bleed in and he jerked his hand back suddenly.

Hyunjin tilted his head, expression rather confused, but Changbin covered up the awkwardness by forcing a smile. “Your turn.” The younger looked even more confused and Bin chuckled, “It’s pop quiz time. Show me what you’ve learned so far.”

“Already?” Hyunjin asked, dumbfounded. A light blush began to tint his cheeks. “Kinda lost focus,” he admitted. “I don’t really remember what to do.”

Bin smiled genuinely, “Just do your best, pup.”

Hyunjin’s blush deepened at the nickname and he took a deep breath before hesitantly reaching up to rest his fingertips against Changbin’s jawline and leaned in. He fit their lips together just like Bin had done earlier, dragging away and pressing in again and again.

When he withdrew, Changbin was a little flushed and Hyunjin felt a jolt of happiness rush through him because that was from him. He grinned, “How was that?”

Bin scoffed jokingly, “‘Don’t really remember’, my ass!”

The younger blushed again and his gaze fell to his hands in his lap where he was picking at loose skin around his fingernail.

“It was much better, Jinnie. You did well.” Hyunjin glanced up at Changbin’s praise and smiled gratefully. “But I think that’s enough learning for today.”

Hyujin shook his head adamantly and pouted again, “Just one more lesson. Please, Binnie hyung?”

Changbin’s laugh was bright and teasing, “You like kissing that much already?”

The younger bit at his lip and glanced away before looking back at Bin and nodded shyly. He really, really, really liked it, especially if it was with Changbin; he wasn’t going to admit that out loud.

Changbin sighed, feigning reluctance, but he couldn’t help but grin, “Alright. You know I can’t say no to those puppy dog eyes of yours.”

Hyunjin lit up and bounced slightly in Bin’s lap, wrapping his arms around his neck as he settled comfortably. Changbin’s hands were back on his hips and he nodded at the younger, “C’mere.”

Giggling, Hyunjin leaned in once again and voluntarily initiated the kiss, letting Bin take the lead after he had left a few sweet pecks on his lips. Changbin fluidly moved their lips together and, without noticing in order to stop himself, Hyunjin ‘caught on’ rather quickly. He lost himself in Changbin’s pretty doll lips, his warmth, the scent of his skin, in Changbin. Hyunjin’s fingers found the hair at Bin’s nape and he tangled them in the soft strands while the older’s arms wound around his waist, drawing him in even closer.

Changbin didn’t let the kiss get too dirty or passionate but he knew it felt right, Hyunjin in his lap holding onto him for dear life, tugging at his hair, squeezing in as close as possible. The older pulled away begrudgingly and Hyunjin chased his lips again, causing Bin to chuckle at him despite his own labored breathing. “That’s enough, pup.” Hyunjin pouted once more and slouched in disappointment. “You’re a fast learner, aren’t you, Jinnie?”

The younger hummed appreciatively, “I’m learning from the best.”

Bin rolled his eyes and let out a huff of air in his amusement. “How do you know I’m the best, Mr. I Have No Experience?”

“Shh,” Hyunjin hushed him with a long, slender finger faintly resting against Changbin’s rose tinted lips. “I just know.” A glint of mischief flashed in his eyes and he bit at his bottom lip before giggling again. He tried as gracefully as he could to stand up but his legs were admittedly a little wobbly. Hyunjin just laughed at himself and shrugged, “Well, I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing before I bothered you.”

Changbin furrowed his brow. “You didn’t bother me, Hyunjin. I’m, uhh,” he cleared his throat, “I’m happy to help.”

Hyunjin smiled warmly and leaned down to press another kiss to his hyung’s lips. “Thank you, Binnie hyung,” he whispered against them before pulling away and leaving Changbin’s bedroom, softly shutting the door behind himself.

Bin sat staring after him for who knows how many minutes, lost in thought and missing the warmth of Hyunjin in his lap. He sighed deeply. He simply wanted what he just couldn’t have and he had to convince himself to bury those feelings. He was going to regret this, he could feel it in his bones.

The younger leaned his back against the door and stared off into space wondering why he even started this whole thing, why he didn’t just tell Changbin the truth and admit his feelings from the start. Guilt swam in his stomach like churning waves and he felt tears prick at his eyes. Hyunjin gulped and blinked them away, taking a deep breath before heading off to distract himself somehow.

“Is this ok?” Hyunjin asked tentatively as he eased down onto Changbin’s lap.

Bin chuckled, “This seems to be your favorite spot lately.” When the younger blushed and shied away, Changbin smiled warmly and rested his hands on Hyunjin’s hips, “As long as you're comfortable, I’m fine.”

Biting his lip, Hyunjin glanced at the couch cushion next to them and cleared his throat. “So what’s lesson three, or whatever number we’re on?”

The elder smirked, “I know you’ve been keeping track, pup. You can’t fool me.” Changbin swore he saw Hyunjin’s eye twitch and a flash of agony wash over his face and leave as quickly as it came, but he chose to ignore it and ghosted his hands up and down the sides of the boy in his lap. “Why don’t I just show you, hmm?”

“Should I expect a pop quiz after?” Hyunjin looked up through his lashes, teasing smile curving his pretty, plush lips.

Changbin scoffed jokingly, “It wouldn’t be a pop quiz if I warned you it was happening, Jinnie.”

The younger squinted suspiciously and shrugged his shoulders. “I thought I’d be able to read you. But I guess I’ll just have to pay really close attention and impress you if you do decide to test me.”

Nervousness peeked through Changbin’s calm facade and he gulped apprehensively before composing himself and grunting a noise of acknowledgement. He reached up to grab the back of Hyunjin’s neck and tugged him forward, slotting their lips together forcefully. Hyunjin’s breath hitched and the desire to ruin him clouded Changbin’s mind as he moved his lips against Hyunjin’s, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth before nipping at it aggressively. The younger let out a surprised but pleased sigh and Changbin felt him shiver in his hold.

He kissed back just as sharply, pulling back slightly with Changbin’s lower lip trapped in his teeth, tugging at the flesh before letting it bounce back. He opened his eyes to admire Bin’s features and when the olders eyes fluttered open, Hyunjin smirked at how dark and lustful his gaze had become. Without warning, Hyunjin dove back in and Changbin found himself panting into the others mouth, caught off guard and losing himself in the kiss.

Hyunjin kissed eagerly and feverishly, mouth moving forcibly against Changbin’s but somehow it wasn’t too much. In fact, Bin was craving more and he had to force himself not to take more than was acceptable at the time. He reluctantly withdrew, head falling back against the couch as he tried to catch his breath, eyes still closed.

“Fuck,” Changbin laughed airily, “I don’t think I have to test you after that.”

“Yeah?”

Bin let out another huff of air, “Yeah. It was almost too good.”

Hyunjin sucked his lips into his mouth and bit down, frowning skittishly and glad Changbin still had his eyes shut. “Sorry.”

“No!” Bin’s head shot up and he looked at the younger, perplexed. “Why are you apologizing, Jinnie?” He shook his head and chuckled gently, “I honestly didn’t want to stop.”

Lips shaped like a perfect ‘O’, Hyunjin gazed back at him, expression a little surprised as his cheeks reddened, “Oh.”

Changbin smiled at him fondly but embarrassment at his own admission started to creep up and he looked away shyly. “Don’t look at me like that! I can’t help it, I enjoyed it!”

Hyunjin giggled and leaned forward to whisper in Bin’s ear, “I liked it, too. Really, really liked it.” When he sat back, Changbin’s eyes had darkened again, pupils blown and faintly swollen lips parted.

“In that case,” the younger fidgeted in his lap as he took a deep, calming breath before continuing. “Move on to the next lesson?”

Eyes widening minutely, Hyunjin nodded slowly, glancing down at Changbin’s lips before flicking back up to hold his steady gaze. “Please,” he pleaded almost soundlessly.

“I think I’m gonna regret teaching you how to use tongue because you’ll pick it up really fast and you’re gonna be the death of me, I swear,” Changbin mumbled unintelligibly under his breath. Hyunjin managed to make out the last part of his sentence.

You’re gonna be the death of me, I swear.

Those words swam around in his foggy head as he stared into Changbin’s eyes, almost in a daze and Changbin thought he looked far too fucked out from just a kiss but he wasn’t complaining about the beauty sitting in his lap. The older lured Hyunjin again easily, moulding their lips together the second he was close enough. Hyunjin felt like he was floating and he was suddenly brought back to earth by a burning in the pit of his stomach when Changbin slid his tongue over his bottom lip. He gasped against the older’s mouth, granting him access and tightening his grip around his neck, chests pressed against each other.

Changbin cautiously licked around the outline of Hyunjin’s open mouth, urging a stunned moan to escape from the younger boy. Smiling into the kiss, Bin sucked at his lower lip before moving their lips together again. Hyunjin hesitantly poked his tongue out and Changbin took the opportunity to suck on it, earning a whimper as Hyunjin fisted the front of the elders shirt. Changbin kissed him deeply and, just as he expected, the younger caught on quickly, tongues gracefully dancing together amidst sloppy, open-mouthed kisses.

Pulling away for desperately needed oxygen, they rested their foreheads together as Changbin panted through a smile and Hyunjin stared at him, a hazy look in his eyes. Seconds later, Hyunjin pressed his lips to his hyung’s with new fervor, hands still tightly clutching at the material of Changbin’s shirt. He moaned wantonly when the elder squeezed at his waist.

Hyunjin felt the need to prove what he had learned despite not being asked this time around. He gave up trying to act like all this was new to him and just gave into kissing Changbin. Using his tongue like a hook, Hyunjin dragged Bin’s upper lip into his mouth and nipped at the flesh. The older groaned deeply and his hips canted upwards unintentionally. Pleased with himself, Hyunjin took to exploring Changbin’s mouth, earning moans and whimpers alike. When he finally pulled back, Changbin was the one dazed; kiss-bitten, swollen lips a deep, cherry red and eyes black and lecherous.

“Fuck,” he breathed, throwing his head back again. “Fuck! Why are you such a fast learner?”

The younger smirked, a sudden urge to kiss down Changbin’s exposed throat flashed in his mind but he quickly rid his brain of the thought, sure that that would be too far. At least for the moment.

Changbin laughed at the ceiling. It was almost lethargic. “I think the student has surpassed the teacher, fucking hell!”

Hyunjin couldn’t help the giggle that bubbled up in his chest and he covered his mouth, eyes forming crescent moons above his hand.

“You can’t just look all cute after you did...that,” Bin mumbled when he glanced at the laughing boy in his lap. Suddenly reminded of the whole ‘canting of his hips’ thing and the very evident bulge in his pants underneath Hyunjin’s ass, Changbin flushed, mortified. Hyunjin took that exact moment to squirm in the olders lap and Bin groaned sheepishly. “That’s probably completely unwarranted since we were just kissing but uhh...fuck it! It’s your fault for being too good at kissing so thanks for that!”

Joy mixed with pride bloomed in Hyunjin and he bit his lip, giggling even more, before leaning in to whisper in Changbin’s ear once more. “It was my pleasure,” he taunted, taking Bin’s earring between his teeth and tugged at it gently; the older shivered under him. Then he was out of Changbin’s lap in a flash. As he made his way out of the living room, he called over his shoulder, “I’ll leave you to take care of that.”

“You little shit!” Changbin shouted after him, prompting Hyunjin to wiggle his fingers in a wave before rounding a corner. Bin dropped his head back on the couch, fancying a good old, frustrated scream, but he stayed quiet. He finally got off the couch and headed off to take care of his problem.

And if he imagined Hyunjin taking him apart bit by bit while he simultaneously took Hyunjin apart when he wrapped his hand around his aching, positively dripping cock, that was no one’s business.

He did.

He also chanted Hyunjin’s name in a whisper as he spurted white all over himself and his hand.

But again, no one’s business.

And if Hyunjin got off to the sounds his hyung was making in the other room while he imagined how good Changbin would look covered in his cum, just to reiterate, that was no one’s business.

He did.

He was also overcome with an overwhelming wave of guilt moments after he came to the thought of Changbin.

No one’s business.

It became a normal thing, secret kisses and immediate guilt and burying of feelings. Hyunjin was sick to his stomach quite often, to the point that Chan got concerned with how often he was saying he was sick and going to lay down. Changbin worried that it was his fault. Maybe the younger was sick of him. Maybe he hated kissing Bin and just kept going along with it so as not to make him feel bad. If only he hadn’t said yes, if only they didn’t keep this up, if only, if, if. Changbin worried himself sick but he didn’t let Chan notice because Chan definitely didn’t need anything else to worry about.

“I’m going to go check on him,” Changbin volunteered a few minutes after Hyunjin mentioned he was feeling off and went to lay down for the nth time that week. Chan gave him an appreciative look and nodded approvingly.

Bin headed for the kitchen to make some ginger tea to soothe Hyunjin’s upset stomach. Once it was brewed, he took the steaming mug and knocked lightly on Hyunjin’s bedroom door before quietly opening it and peeking his head in. “Jinnie, it’s me. I brought you some ginger tea. It might help your stomach.”

Hyunjin grunted and laid still, facing the wall as Changbin padded in and set the mug down on the bedside table. The older hesitated before sitting on the bed in the curve Hyunjin’s legs formed and rested a gentle hand on his arm. “Jinnie,” he whispered. “I’m sorry.”

Changbin heard a sniffle and his heart immediately clenched in pain at the thought of Hyunjin crying. “Oh, Jinnie, baby. Don’t cry,” he pleaded selfishly, knowing just how much it hurt to see him cry.

Hyunjin let out a sob. “Why did you say you’re sorry? What for? I’m the one that’s sorry. I’m so sorry,” he babbled, voice cracking every other word. “I’m so sorry, hyung.”

“Jinnie,” Bin hesitated, on the brink of tears himself and he was sure they would spill when he saw the younger’s face but he asked anyway. “Can you look at me, please?” Hyunjin hiccuped and turned to face the older, unable to look him in the eye. “What are you apologizing for, baby? You have nothing to be sorry for!”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Hyunjin scoffed exasperatedly. “You couldn’t be more wrong, hyung!” He let his hands fall back to his sides and laughed sardonically through his tears.

Changbin couldn’t help the hurt expression that morphed his features. “I can’t know unless you tell me,” he tried, reaching for the younger’s hand to squeeze reassuringly. “You can tell me anything, Jinnie.” He could practically see the gears turning in Hyunjin’s head as he debated on whether or not to tell his hyung the truth. “I’m not sure if you think this or not, but I’m not mad at you. And I won’t be, no matter what you tell me. I just want to know what’s wrong because I’m worried sick about you and I want to fix whatever’s wrong if I can.”

Hyunjin’s bottom lip trembled as fresh tears spilled over his cheeks. He shot up and wrapped his arms around Changbin, weeping into his shoulder as the older took him into his arms and soothed a hand up and down his back. “Jinnie,” he whispered, burying his face in Hyunjin’s neck. But that’s all he said. He waited patiently for the younger to speak his mind.

“I lied to you,” Hyunjin mumbled into his t-shirt. “I lied about,” his body shook with the deep breath he took, “I lied about not having experience.” Hyunjin pulled away and sat hunched over, staring into his own lap and fiddled with a loose string on his pant leg. “I made it all up. All of it. The whole kissing practice thing was just an excuse. And I kept the lie going and I feel awful about it. I feel so sick over it because I never intended to hurt you or force you into it or anything like that. I feel sick over it because I’ve had feelings for you this whole time and I’ve been ignoring them so much when I’m with you that when I’m not with you, they all come crashing down on me and I feel like I’m going to throw up because I’m so overwhelmed with guilt. I can’t lie to you anymore, hyung. I never wanted to in the first place. But my stupid brain couldn’t figure out another way to make you see that I’m in love with you. So instead, I just hurt the both of us. Like an idiot. And I know I hurt you because you wouldn’t have apologized if I didn’t. You’re too sweet, saying you’re sorry for something that isn’t even remotely your fault and you know it. You’re too sweet and I love you for it. So much. And I’m so, so sorry.”

Changbin’s brain couldn’t process the entirety of the sudden influx of information that had just poured out of Hyunjin’s mouth. All he could process was three things, and he told Hyunjin so. “All I heard was ‘I lied’, ‘I’m sorry’, and ‘I’m in love with you’.” Hyunjin looked somewhat fearful, combined with embarrassment and regret. The older shook his head and took Hyunjin’s hands into his own. “And I’m telling you the exact same thing. I lied in the sense that I never told you I had feelings for you when I’ve had them since we first met. I’m sorry that I kept this thing going without telling you everything--I’m the hyung here, that’s on me. And I’m in love with you, too.”

“Y-you don’t hate me?” Hyunjin’s brows were scrunched together and he stared at the older in disbelief.

Reaching up to wipe away the new tears from the younger’s cheeks, Changbin shook his head adamantly. “Baby, no! I could never hate you! I mean, I can’t say I like the fact that you lied to me but I don’t blame you because I lied to you, too. We both didn’t know how to just come right out with our feelings. And besides, it got us this far, didn’t it?”

Hyunjin chuckled sadly, “I guess so. I’m still really sorry, hyung.”

“I know, Jinnie. Me too,” Changbin gently tugged him forward into another hug which Hyunjin gladly melted into. “I love you.”

Another sob slipped past Hyunjin’s lips and he laughed at himself, “Sorry, I didn’t know I would react like that hearing you say that for the first time.”

Changbin hummed and nuzzled into his neck, arms squeezing Hyunjin’s waist. “I love you.”

“I love you, too, hyung.”

“You said you don’t hate me but you’re spending awfully long amounts of time in your studio here lately.” Hyunjin’s teasing voice startled a very focused Changbin who was absorbed in whatever he was working on. He quickly spun around in his chair and his gaze found the younger standing in the doorway, his hip leant against the door frame and arms crossed over his chest, eyebrow raised, feigning suspicion.

Changbin whined, “You know I miss you like crazy. I’ve just had so much work to get done.”

Smirk curving his lips, Hyunjin sauntered into the room, closing the door behind him and turned the lock. “Why don’t you show me how much you miss me?” He taunted as he dropped onto the sofa in Changbin’s studio, clearly expecting the older to come to him.

Bin scoffed lightly before turning back around to fiddle with something while defeat and embarrassment crept up in Hyunjin; he genuinely thought Changbin was just ignoring him and finishing his work like the younger wasn’t even there. But soon, a sultry melody with heavy bass flooded through the speakers in the studio [Electric (R3hab Remix) (feat. Khalid) - Alina Baraz] and Changbin turned back around to face Hyunjin, smirking himself when he saw the expression on Hyunjin’s face. Pushing out of his chair, Bin stalked over to the couch, slipping his t-shirt over his head and tossed it behind himself carelessly as he watched Hyunjin rake his carnal gaze over the newly exposed skin, dark eyes hooded and full lips parted.

When he finally stood in front of the younger, he snickered wickedly and leaned in to ghost his lips over Hyunjin’s before gently guiding him to lay down on the sofa, body rolling fluidly as he climbed on top of him. “That was way too smooth,” Hyunjin whispered, impressed, causing Changbin’s smirk to widen if that was even possible.

“Kinda surprised myself there, honestly.” His smirk transformed into a genuine smile as he chuckled at himself and Hyunjin thought he looked positively beautiful in that moment. The feeling was mutual. Changbin stared at the boy below him -- long blond hair splayed out around his head, flush high on his cheeks, an enthralled fascination swirled deep in his inky eyes alongside pure admiration and want. “Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he rasped, mesmerized.

“Kiss me,” Hyunjin breathed. Changbin didn’t need to be told twice. He bent down and brushed their noses together ever so gently before capturing Hyunjin’s lips. Moving gracefully, Bin kissed him deeply, wanting to convey as much emotion as he possibly could, needing Hyunjin to know how much he loved him. He couldn’t help but say it, though.

“I love you, Jinnie.”

Hyunjin hummed against his mouth, “Mmm, love you, too, hyung. So much.” He threw his arms around Changbin, pulling him in even closer and arched into him when the older teased their tongues together.

“Want you,” Hyunjin gasped after moments of kissing the life out of each other. “Want you so bad.”

Changbin growled, kissing along Hyunjin’s jawline and down his neck as the younger boy bared his throat for him. Desperately wanting to leave marks, he knew he couldn’t leave anything in visible areas so he softly mouthed, kissed, and licked at the column of Hyunjin’s neck, earning constant whimpers and whines because of the sensitivity of the area. When Bin reached his clavicle, the urge won over and he sucked a deep plum-colored mark where he thought would be the perfect place. Sitting up to marvel at Hyunjin, Changbin let out a pleased hum at how divine the younger looked with his claim on him. The stylist noonas probably wouldn’t be too happy but Hyunjin looked plenty sexy when he was more covered up so Changbin didn’t think it would be too much of a problem. He didn’t care anyway. Hyunjin was his.

“Mine,” he murmured as he bent down again briefly to kiss at the pretty bruise. When he sat back up, he smiled in awe. “Always wanted to know what you’d look like underneath me like this.”

Hyunjin huffed out a chuckle, “And how do I look?”

“Impossibly perfect. Better than I ever dreamed,” Bin praised, eyes sparkling when he noticed Hyunjin’s cheeks redden. He shook his head and laughed breathily, “And I haven’t even ruined you yet!”

“Binnie hyung,” Hyunjin whined, pouting just how Changbin liked so much.

Bin smirked, “I know, baby,” he leaned down to kiss him again, “I’ve got you.” Hands trailing up Hyunjin’s sides and lifting his shirt in the process, Changbin sucked at his plush lips, fingertips delicately dancing over the other boy’s skin. Goosebumps rose under his touch and the younger arched into him again, moaning sweetly, so receptive and sensitive. “Off,” Changbin murmured against Hyunjin’s mouth.

Sitting up to lift his shirt over his head and toss it to the side, Hyunjin promptly fell back against the cushion, hair flooding out around him again. The dim, hazy light that filled the room lit up his blond strands and looked suspiciously like a halo to Changbin. But he knew better. This was no angel beneath him. This was a devil with a halo. Hyunjin had been shy and pliant but when he noticed how Changbin was staring at him, he couldn’t help but smirk as a wicked naughtiness shone behind his eyes and Changbin swore this boy would be the end of him.

Without warning, Bin leaned down to mouth at one of Hyunjin’s pert nipples and he grinned against his skin when the younger boy whimpered and canted his hips, the brief flash of power behind his eyes vanishing as quickly as it appeared. The older tugged gently with his teeth, earning a gasp and a roll of Hyunjin’s hips. Changbin hummed, “Bet I could make you cum from just your nipples, hmm? Would you like that, pup?”

Hyunjin shook his head fervently, “No! Want you, hyung!”

Chuckling, Changbin nodded as he pressed kisses over to Hyunjin’s other side. “Alright. Patience, baby. I told you I’d ruin you and I’m going to take my time. Understood?”

Sucking in a breath past his teeth, Hyunjin melted further into the sofa, “Yes, hyung.”

Changbin took his time toying with Hyunjin’s nipples before mouthing over the entirety of his chest, leaving burgundy flowers blooming in his wake, littering his skin with possessive marks. Whimpering and biting at his lips, Hyunjin craved more and Changbin could feel just how badly he needed him. He tugged at the waistband of the younger boy’s jeans, “I’m gonna take these off now. Is that ok?”

“Please,” Hyunjin begged simply. So Bin unfastened them slowly and slipped the material down his legs and threw it behind himself blindly before kneeling between his legs and bending down to mouth at his clothed cock. “Oh!” Hyunjin gasped, hands immediately flying to Changbin’s hair and tugging at the strands at the nape of his neck. The older smiled against him and hooked his fingers under the band, looking up for permission. When Hyunjin nodded, hooded eyes fluttering and lips bitten red, looking absolutely breathtaking, Bin removed them, wasting no time in mouthing at his leaking cock. The younger squirmed beneath him, mewling as he sucked at his balls. “Hyung, I-” A strangled moan cut off his words when Changbin wrapped his pretty doll lips around the head of his dick.

“Hmm?” Bin questioned wordlessly, suckling tenderly. But Hyunjin didn’t answer; he threw his head back and cursed under his breath when Changbin moved further down. Hollowing his cheeks, he bobbed his head, gradually taking more and more of Hyunjin. The younger writhed, wanton moans spilling from his lips.

Hyunjin had quite a bit of length but Changbin knew he could take it so he relaxed his throat and slid all the way down. “Hyung! Mouth- so good- I- Oh my god!” Hyunjin slurred, tightening his grasp on the hair in his fists. Bin’s chest warmed, proud of himself, knowing he was giving Hyunjin so much pleasure he could barely speak. The head of Hyunjin’s cock repeatedly hit the back of his throat before he stilled, swallowing around him, urging a weak scream from the boy under him.

Changbin loved how vocal Hyunjin was but in that moment, he was eternally grateful for the soundproof walls surrounding them. He lifted off Hyunjin’s cock, having decided it was sufficiently wet, and if not, the pre-cum would make the slide easier. Bin sat up on his knees and untucked himself, not even bothering to take off his sweats, just shoving them out of the way enough before leaning forward to hover over Hyunjin. Avoiding his hair, Changbin rested on his forearm against the cushion and slotted their hips together, hard, leaking cocks brushing each other as he watched the younger’s face morph in euphoria.

Spitting in his hand, just in case, Bin reached down between them and took both cocks in his hand, instantly dropping his head to Hyunjin’s neck and rolling his hips into his grasp. Hyunjin groaned and wrapped his arms around Changbin’s torso. “Yes,” he whispered in his ear, “You feel so good, hyung. Touch me just like that.”

Controlling nature fading in and out, Hyunjin vacilated between flustered, slurred words and heated, dirty talk like it was the easiest thing in the world and Changbin couldn’t help but be amused despite the tingle that shot up his spine at Hyunjin’s words. He smiled against Hyunjin’s fiery skin, placing small kisses on the junction where his neck met his shoulder.

Changbin continued to tug at their cocks until Hyunjin was whining in his ear and digging his nails into his back. “I’m so close, hyung. Please make me cum. Please,” he panted as he thrusted into Bin’s fist.

The older groaned in response, rhythm speeding up slightly and he stopped every once in a while to squeeze at the heads. “‘m close too, pup. Gonna make a mess of you. Gonna cum all over your pretty tummy. Bet you look gorgeous covered in my cum.”

Hyunjin suddenly stopped breathing, seizing up and arching into the older, chests pressing together as he spilled himself over Changbin’s hand and his own stomach. Bin leaned up just in time to see the ecstasy freeze up his beautiful features, hypnotized by the boy beneath him. “Wow,” he breathed, helping Hyunjin ride out his orgasm. Air returned to the younger boy’s lungs and he turned to lazily smile at Changbin.

He stopped stroking them together, letting Hyunjin’s cock fall into the mess on his stomach as he sat up and grasped his own length. Using the cum his hand was covered in to ease the slide even more, Bin fisted himself eagerly and seconds later, he streaked Hyunjin’s stomach with his own release. Changbin slouched as the energy evaporated from him.

Through heavy-lidded eyes, he watched Hyunjin trail his fingertips through the cum on his abdomen, swirling it around sloppily, mixing their releases before scooping up a decent amount. Changbin’s eyes widened and his dick twitched in renewed interest as Hyunjin brought his fingers to his mouth and wrapped his pillowy, kiss-bitten lips around them. Their eyes met as the younger boy cleaned his fingers of their cum, blown pupils swimming with desire and mischief.

“Fuck,” Changbin huffed, hovering over Hyunjin once more. “What a dirty baby!” Hyunjin smirked as he pulled his fingers from his mouth, a single strand of saliva connecting them. Bin broke it with the tip of his tongue before capturing the younger boy’s lips and dipping his tongue in to taste their cum on Hyunjin’s tongue.

He moaned at the older’s boldness and kissed him deeper. He teasingly mumbled against Changbin’s lips, “You’re dirty, too, hyung, aren’t you?” Bin just smiled and kissed him again.

After losing track of the time they spent kissing and giving himself enough of a refractory time period, Changbin pulled away and met Hyunjin’s eyes. “How about you flip over so I can taste you some more, hmm?” Hyunjin nodded quickly and reached for a t-shirt on the floor to rid his stomach of the rest of the mess. He was pretty sure it was his own shirt and in the back of his mind, he briefly hoped Bin had a spare or at least a hoodie so he wouldn’t have to return to the dorms suspiciously shirtless.

He cleaned himself off and turned over as requested and Changbin’s hands immediately gripped at his ass, kneading the flesh and spreading his cheeks. “Fuck, Jinnie! You’re too pretty, god!” Hyunjin looked over his shoulder at the older and scrunched his nose in a teasing manner while shaking his ass as best he could in Changbin’s grasp. Bin landed a slap against his right cheek, punishment for his playful taunting, and Hyunjin groaned deeply, dropping his head to the couch cushion and lifting his hips slightly, seemingly silently begging for more.

Changbin willingly obliged his unspoken request, his expression a nasty sneer as he smacked Hyunjin’s left cheek. “Wanna look in the mirror and see my handprints on your ass? My marks all over your pretty chest and thighs? Feel my lingering touch on your heated skin? Know you’re mine?” He demanded, spellbound by the way Hyunjin’s ass jiggled every time he laid a hard slap on the soft flesh.

Hyunjin wailed loudly at a particularly harsh spank and pushed his ass back towards Changbin. “Fuck, yes! More! Please, more! Make me yours, hyung!”

Bin growled unrestrainedly and ceased his attack on Hyunjin’s reddened skin, instead moving to lick a long stripe up his puckered hole. The younger boy let out a sound somewhere between a moan and a squeak and Changbin smiled against his skin at how oddly cute it was. He continued to lick and suck at his rim, urging the sweetest melodies to flow from his lover. When he poked his tongue inside, Hyunjin laughed deliriously, drunk with pleasure. Changbin thrusted his tongue in and out of Hyunjin’s pretty hole while the younger urged him on with frantic praise, “Oh, Binnie-hyung! Your filthy mouth feels so fucking good on me! You eat my ass so well! Fuck, just like that! Eat my ass just like that, yes! Yes!”

He pushed back again and Bin gripped at his ass and thighs, leaving prints and crescent-shaped indents as he massaged the flesh and buried his tongue in further, sucking at his rim. Adding a single finger, Changbin pushed the digit in alongside his tongue only to discover that it went in far too easily. He hummed suspiciously and sat up on his heels, sliding two fingers in place of one and Hyunjin whined at the feeling. “Tell me, pup,” he prompted, wiping the spit from his chin with the back of his hand and pumped his fingers slowly. “What have you been doing that’s got your slutty hole so loose, hmm?”

Hyunjin whimpered, burying his face further into his folded arms. Changbin slapped his ass again, “Answer me, pup.”

“F-fingered my-myself in the s-shower before I got here,” he admitted shamefully, stuttering as he dared to look back at the elder with his eyes wide and pleading. “Th-thought of you the wh-whole time, h-hyung.”

How the younger went from filthy, dirty talk to bashful stuttering in two seconds flat continued to bewilder Changbin but he was thoroughly enjoying the rollercoaster that was Hyunjin. He grunted in approval, “Good boy.”

Hyunjin’s eyes practically rolled to the back of his head and he couldn’t help but rut against the couch at the blatant praise. Changbin snickered at him, plunging his fingers in even further but still avoided his prostate. “You gonna cum from my fingers, baby?” He questioned, adding a third digit and urging a shaky groan from the boy beneath him.

“No!” Hyunjin shook his head adamantly as he rocked back onto Changbin’s fingers. “Wanna cum- I wanna cum on your cock. Please, hyung. Fuck me, please!”

Changbin hummed, “But, pup. I haven’t got any lube. Your hole may be loose from fingering yourself but I don’t want to hurt you stuffing my cock in your ass without lube. I don’t have a condom either.” His tone was disparaging, laced with overly-dramatic dissatisfaction even though he was genuinely dissapointed; he really did want to fuck Hyunjin but the last thing he wanted was to really hurt him.

Hyunjin shook his head again and gestured off towards another part of the room. “Back pocket,” he huffed. “Jeans back pocket. Brought lube.” He swallowed, still panting as Changbin spread his fingers wide inside him. “Don’t need a condom. Wanna feel you, hyung, please.”

Changbin stilled, “Are you sure, baby?”

“We’re clean. Don’t need it,” the younger boy mumbled, “Want you.”

Pressing kisses against the base of Hyunjin’s spine, Bin slowly pulled out his fingers, “Alright, baby. I’ll be right back.”

He rose from the couch to search for Hyunjin’s jeans that he had tossed god knows where, shucking off his own pants in the process -- why he hadn’t taken them off up until then, he had no clue, but he was glad to be rid of them. After coming up empty handed fishing through one pocket, he found a small bottle of lube tucked away in the opposite side and cheered internally before returning to the sofa where Hyunjin was rutting desperately against the cushion in his impatience. Bin was suddenly thankful that the material was easy to clean as he was sure Hyunjin was making a mess of it and they both would make even more of a mess not using a condom. He shrugged off his worries and resumed his place between Hyunjin’s thighs, uncapping the lube and squeezing a generous amount onto his fingers.

Warming it, Changbin hovered his hand over Hyunjin’s twitching hole, “I’m going to open you up a little more, OK, pup?”

“Hurry, please,” the younger boy begged, “Want you.”

Pressing in, Bin reminded him, “Patience, baby,” even though he was becoming desperate himself. He scissored his fingers around, searching for that spot that would make Hyunjin see stars and beg even more for Changbin’s cock.

He knew he found it when Hyunjin jolted forward and let out a choked, gurgled sounding moan and he couldn’t help but chuckle when the younger boy whipped his head over his shoulder and glared at him. Dropping the honorifics, it was Hyunjin’s turn to growl, “Now, Changbin! Fuck me now!”

Bin retracted his hand and lifted both up in surrender, still smiling, “As you wish.”

Lubing up his neglected cock, Changbin hissed in sensitivity as he gave himself a few good tugs. He lightly smacked Hyunjin’s hip, “Up.” The younger boy immediately lifted his hips, rising to his knees while still leaning his forearms and the side of his face into the sofa cushion. “Good boy,” Bin praised, lining himself up and teasing Hyunjin’s fluttering hole with the head of his cock. He carefully pressed in, Hyunjin’s breath hitching with the initial stretch, going slow so the younger had time to adjust. When he was about halfway in, Changbin rubbed a comforting hand over Hyunjin’s lower back, “You OK, baby?”

“Ngh, more, more, please more,” he wailed, pushing back against the elder.

Changbin chuckled fondly and slid in the rest of the way, hips pressed snugly against Hyunjin’s ass. “There,” he breathed, barely above a whisper.

Hyunjin gripped at the edge of the cushion, “Fuck, you’re big!” Usually, Changbin would absolutely preen at that kind of glorifying but for some reason, he just blushed and let out the tiniest of squeaks.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, dropping his head forward onto Hyunjin’s back, barely changing the angle but it was enough for the younger boy to feel it.

“Oh!” Hyunjin shivered, breathing heavy as he reached back with one hand to grip at Changbin. His hand landed somewhere between his thigh and ass; he couldn’t tell where but he wasn’t complaining and immediately squeezed a handful of his thick body. Bin grunted and the younger laughed breathily, “Don’t apologize! You’re perfect! Just let me- don’t move for a minute. I gotta-”

Changbin tenderly covered the boy with his own body and whispered in his ear to calm him, “Thank you, Jinnie. You’re perfect, too.” He pressed gentle kisses along Hyunjin’s shoulder, smiling into his skin as he spoke. “Just relax, baby. Take your time. You let me know if it’s too much, OK? We’ll stop!”

“No, I want this! I want you! I just- you’re so-” Hyunjin’s words trailed off into a moan as he rolled his own hips. “Big! Feels so good! You feel so good, hyung!”

The elder squeezed his eyes shut, willing the urge to just pound into him to go away, and took a shaky breath, “Does it hurt?”

Hyunjin shook his head. “Uh-uh,” he slurred, “‘s just a lot.” After another minute or two, the younger boy nodded, “‘s OK, hyung. You can move.”

Changbin kept his position, mouthing at Hyunjin’s neck and shoulder to distract him somewhat, but he started to roll his hips experimentally. Little grunts and whimpers passed Hyunjin’s plush lips and Bin pressed sweet kisses to the side of his face, whispering praises in his ear, “My baby. So good for me. Love you, Jinnie. You feel amazing. You’re so beautiful, my pretty baby.”

Tears streaked Hyunjin’s cheeks and Changbin kissed them away, “Love you, hyung.” He squeezed the flesh in his grip, “Harder, please.”

Bin drew back his hips a little further each time he thrusted, mild but still powerful. Hyunjin’s grasp on his side fell away and instead, he reached up behind himself to thread his fingers through Changbin’s hair, keeping him close as the elder peppered his skin with kisses. Changbin nuzzled into him, whispering ‘I love you’s.

Hyunjin loved the pure bliss that he felt in Changbin’s arms, being smothered in love and praises. But he wanted to cum again. And he wanted to get fucked. Hard. So he begged for it like a good boy. “Please, more. I need more. Please fuck me harder, hyung! I need it! Please, hyung!”

Changbin straightened up with a low growl, “Such a good boy for me, begging so sweetly. I’ll give you what you want, baby.” His hands found Hyunjin’s hips, his hold tight and sure to leave prints, and he drew back, leaving just the tip of his cock in the younger’s tight hole before plunging in.

Hyunjin let out a shaky groan, wiggling his ass against Changbin’s hips. The elder held him tighter and repeated his deep thrust, reveling in the wanton moan it punched out of the boy under him. “You’re still so tight, baby. Feel so good around me, sucking me back in every time I pull out. So good for me!” He was transfixed as he watched his cock slide past Hyunjin’s tight ring of muscles.

Wailing and grunting and meeting Changbin’s thrusts, Hyunjin pleaded again, “Please, hyung! Fuck me! Pound my tight ass! Fuck me harder, please!”

Growling again, Changbin quickened his pace before lifting one leg, changing the angle and abruptly causing the most beautiful sounds to pass Hyunjin’s pillowy lips. He reduced him to sobs and whines, mewling instead of forming complete words and clawing at the couch cushions. Bin smirked through his exertion, laughing lightly at how much he had succeeded in ruining the boy.

He was nearing his climax and breathed out one last question he hoped the younger could somehow form a coherent answer to. “I’m close, pup. Where do you want my cum?”

“Ngh, in me. In me, inside, please cum in me, hyung. I need your cum, need you to cum inside, please, need you to fill me up,” Hyunjin cried, plenty coherently, thighs trembling as he felt heat pool in his own belly.

Changbin leaned over Hyunjin once more, one hand steady on his hip while the other reached around to fist at his dripping cock. “Gonna cum, pup? Gonna cum for me like a good boy?” The elder mumbled in his ear, tone almost taunting, “Gonna make a filthy mess of yourself again?”

“Yes, yes, yes!” Hyunjin sobbed, “Please can I cum, hyung?”

Burying his nose into the younger boy’s neck, he smirked against his skin and gave him permission. “Of course, baby! Go ahead, cum on my cock.”

Whispering ‘thank you’s over and over again, Hyunjin’s body began to shake from how close he was. Changbin straightened up once again, effortlessly lifting Hyunjin’s knees off the sofa and he tugged just right and thrusted against the perfect spot and Hyunjin was done. Legs spasming, still clawing at the cushion he could reach, Hyunjin cried out, “Changbin! God, fuck!”

Ribbons of white sprayed over the sofa cushion and the younger boy’s walls tightened around Bin, tipping him over the edge. He stroked Hyunjin through his orgasm while he pumped him full of his cum. Changbin collapsed back on his heels, Hyunjin awkwardly falling into his lap, still connected to each other.

Using the microscopic amount of energy he had left, Hyunjin leaned back into Changbin and turned to place a lazy kiss against his jawline, melting into him as he let his battery recharge enough to make it back to the dorms.

Speaking of making it back to the dorms, Hyunjin looked down at himself and the mess of the couch in front of him and groaned. “We gotta clean up.”

“Good thing this is a pleather couch or else that stain would be a real bitch to get out,” Changbin chuckled, glancing around the room at the strewn about clothes in search of something to wipe up the mess with. His eyes landed on the roll of paper towels he kept on his desk for the frequent times he ate in his studio and subsequently spilled multiple things.

Bin’s mind whirled with various things as he silently stared at the paper towels on the other side of the room -- Hyunjin needs a shirt of some kind since he wiped up cum with his. I should have a spare hoodie in that bag over there. Chan’s probably still up even if no one else is. How are we gonna get past him without looking incredibly suspicious? Oh god, I just came in Hyunjin’s ass! That’s gonna leak out before we can get in the shower at home! Fuck! “Really wish I had a butt plug right now.”

Hyunjin snorted and turned to look at him, “Excuse me?”

“What? I- oh. I said that out loud,” Changbin grinned sheepishly. “It’s just- OK I’m not saying this to be kinky or anything but a butt plug would be convenient right now since I just came in your ass and we have to somehow make it back to the dorms, you know?”

Throwing his head back, Hyunjin laughed warmly, “I think I’ve got that handled, thanks. I’ll be fine.” Changbin nodded, still trying to come up with solutions to his other dilemmas. “Do you have an extra shirt? Mine’s kinda…” Hyunjin trailed off, gesturing at it on the floor next to the couch.

It was Bin’s turn to laugh. “Yeah. Hoodie in the bag over there,” he pointed in its direction before inclining his head towards his desk. “We can use the paper towels to clean up what we can. I’m gonna go grab them so I have to pull out now, OK?”

Hyunjin braced himself and nodded, both boys wincing in oversensitivity as Changbin moved Hyunjin off his lap, soft dick falling to his hip. When Bin returned to the sofa with the paper towels, he couldn’t help but laugh at Hyunjin who was desperately trying not to kneel or put a hand in the mess. “Sorry, sorry!” He rushed to help when the younger boy glared at him.

Once the couch was no longer a disaster and the two were as clean as they could be given the circumstances, they pulled their clothes on and Changbin gathered up his stuff before they headed for the dorms.

“How much you wanna bet Chan ‘knows’ we did something?” Hyunjin joked as they were walking down a stairwell.

Changbin let out a playful, pained noise, “Let’s just hope he’s preoccupied since we both know he won’t be sleeping.” Hyunjin nodded in agreement. “And if he’s not, don’t act suspicious!”

“Easy for you to say!”

Bin spoke up again a few moments later. “Was,” he hesitated, “Was that OK? I mean, was it good for you? Umm…”

Hyunjin took one look at Changbin’s clearly stressed expression and burst out laughing, “Yes, hyung. 10/10 would fuck again.”

The elder tried to hold back his own laugh but ultimately failed, “Oh, uhh, yeah, same.” Hyunjin knocked his hip, still giggling as he hooked their arms together.

When they arrived back at the dorms, much to their chagrin, Chan was waiting in the living room like a dad that was pissed with his teenage children for coming home way past curfew. “I had a feeling you two were up to something,” he squinted at them skeptically. “What did you do?”

“Fuck!” Changbin breathed in annoyance but Hyunjin took it the wrong way.

“Hyung, I thought you said we weren’t going to tell him what we did!”

Changbin felt like he was dying inside.

Chan just stared at the floor, entirely unwilling to make eye contact with either boy.

Hyunjin just giggled, “Oops?”

105 notes · View notes

midnight-lightning · 4 years

Text

Of fanboys and soldiers

Summary: A mission goes horribly wrong and now Bucky’s life is in your hands

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Warning: blood, mention of surgery, Angst, Fluff

"Look, who I found outside!" Natasha was walking into the kitchen, beside her a slightly nervous grinning Peter Parker, who's eyes strangely wandered off and on like he was searching for something. "Hello, Miss - erm Y/N," he stuttered, giving you a shy smile, then he seemed trying to find a position to stand in, not wanting to appear awkward- which he managed without real success. This boy was just adorable. You tried your best to hide your amusement behind a polite smile and rather pointed at the table you were sitting at, inviting him to join you. Maybe some company would be nice. "Want a pancake?" Peter's eyes brightened up for a second when he saw all the food in front of him, pancakes, fruits, yoghurts, fresh bread... everything that was needed to feed the stomachs of several avengers who lived in this - Tony's - house or at least all of them who were at home at this time. "Oh, no, no I probably shouldn't," he declined while he bashfully scratched the back of his head. "Kid, you're family. Now sit down and eat," you insisted and Peter - obviously touched by being called family - tentatively decided to join you at the breakfast table. Meanwhile Natasha- who had watched this scenario with obvious entertainment- pushed herself off the frame of the door and walked out. "Enjoy your meal, kids!" Kids? Excuse me? You leaned back in your seat to see her properly in the hallway before you shouted dryly, "We will! So sad you can't join us!" Poor Nat had to set out for a meeting together with Tony; it involved something about politics, Avengers something like that. Boring stuff. But the second she turned her head back to you, you flipped your chair straight again to avoid receiving any ... not very nice things. Or very hard things. And Nat could aim. Too good. On the other side of the table you noticed that Peter suddenly seemed more relaxed and less nervous now. He still hadn't touched any food, though. You squeezed your eyes in suspicion. "Peter Parker, are YOU nervous because of Natasha?" Poor boy didn't have to say anything, his shocked face and slightly reddened cheeks told everything. "Me? No, of course not! I mean... she's a little ... intimidating. You know what I mean? N-Not in a mean way but- sorry," he stuttered looking down on his plate. "Why are you laughing?" Immediately you stopped, not wanting to hurt his feelings or anything, nor to get blustered over by Tony afterwards for insulting his son. Besides you really didn't wanna see him uncomfortable. "I'm sorry, Kid. It's just - never mind." You watched him taking a big bite of his chocolate pancake and then humming in enjoyment. Speaking of Tony... "You know your Da- ugh Tony isn't here today, right?"

You made a face. It had already been so common within you Avengers that Tony and him were practically considered father and son that some slippers like that happened sometimes. Though you knew Tony had stopped bothering after a time, you didn't know how Peter would react to hear your inside nicknames for them. Whether he noticed or not he didn't show it, instead Peter lowered his third pancake and looked again kind of embarrassed. "I was - erm actually hoping I would see Bucky."

You lift a brow in surprise. "Bucky?" Have they ever even really met? But nonetheless he and Steve were on a mission in Canada right now and will not return in the next days. "Yeah, I feel like I need to apologize to him. You know for what happened at the airport." Oh. Yes. There they certainly did meet. Your heart swelled up at his statement and you realized there couldn't be any purer angel on earth than him. "Oh, Pete," you sighted. "You really do have a heart of gold, you know that? But I'm sure he never took offense at any of this,” you reassured him. "You see, he was rather shocked at how young you had been." "Wait, he has actually talked about me?" Peter seemed genuinely shocked about it, after literally being Tony's secret ace up his sleeve and kicking their asses all the way. He was seriously surprised people talked about him.

"Ohmygodthatssocool!" He chattered and you let out an amused laugh at his enthusiasm. We've found a fan boy!

If only Buck could hear this right now; See that there are so many people out there who cherished and admired him. People beside you and his best friends.

"Like the winter soldier! Or no, I shouldn't call him like that, he’s more like the white wolf! Bucky Barnes! I would literally-" "QUICK! WE NEED HELP!" Peter's speech was abruptly interrupted by loud voices coming from the entrance.

Alarmed you immediately stormed out of the kitchen, leaving knocked over chairs and dishes behind. You didn’t feel the need to be careful right now because it had been clearly Steve’s voice shouting for help, who shouldn’t have been here for another two days. Unless something had utterly gone wrong. The first thing you noticed, was the huge amount of blood covering up the ground on which Steve stood. The man himself looked like shit. Beaten up with bruises and even burns all over his body.

But leaned on his shoulder, was Bucky and he didn’t even look alive anymore.

Barely audible his name escaped your lips, while your heart stopped beating.

Within a second you were next to him, cupping his face in your hands only to wince at how cold the skin beneath your fingers felt.

Your eyes flickered over his pale skin, over his slightly turning blue lips and his eyes which twitched around the room, not focusing on anything. He was barely even conscious.

His face too was beaten up and burnt, a piece of his eyebrow was missing. But the worst was definitely the bullet wound in his abdomen that made him lose too much blood right now. It was everywhere.

Oh god all this blood.

You were losing your mind.

Don’t cry, don’t cry, don’t cry

Y/N, calm down. You got this. He needs you.

This all happened within the few seconds you needed to get a grip on yourself.

With a pounding heart you took a deep breath while switching in your professional Doctor mode.

“What happened?” You asked Steve while you slipped to Bucky’s other side so the both of you could carry Bucky into the treatment room.

“We were already on our way back home, thinking we already got everything covered,” Steve started to explain, sounding out of breath. “When they literally appeared out of nowhere. God, everything went so fast then. They were so many. And suddenly they were shotguns and explosions everywhere. And Bucky, this idiot, felt the need to safe me from a bullet.”

Yes, that sounded like the Bucky you knew, always ready to sacrifice himself for people he cared for.

“The hospital was too far away, didn’t want to take the risk, so I brought him back here. I just didn’t know If he … if he would make it any longer.”

You nodded, taking the information in. “He will. He will, Steve.” You answered firmly, but you weren’t sure if you were convincing him or rather yourself.

Carefully the both of you placed Bucky on the treatment table and instantly you reached for the nearest towel you could find. You ripped open his shirt to have a better look at the bullet wound and enough room to apply pressure to ease the blood flow.

Bucky groaned out of pain, making you wince. “I’m so sorry, Buck, but I have to do this.”

Suddenly his hand grasped your wrist.

You froze.

“Y/N?” Barely even a whisper, but you still heard him. His eyelids flattered, struggling to stay awake.

A little relief washed over you face, hearing his voice. At least he had still the strength to talk.

Softly you put his hand back on his chest. “Shh, save your strength, alright? I need you to hold on, love.”

When you looked up you noticed that Bruce had already arrived in the room, clearly shocked at the view. Still, once he got a picture out of the whole situation he went over to you and without a further question just took a new towel and kept applying pressure on Bucky’s wound instead.

That gave you the time you needed to gather every tool you will need for the small operation. Thereby you lifted your head to Steve and Peter who were watching the scenery with both fear and concern. While Steve looked a bit more stabled Peter turned alarmingly pale himself. He shouldn’t be seeing that right now.

“Steve? Are you in a stable condition right now? Or do you have a serious inju-“

The Captain immediately shook his head. “No, no I’m fine. Please, Bucky is more important in this moment.”

You nodded, your eyes flickering to Peter for a second. “Pete, I need you to leave this room. I don’t want you to witness this.”

The poor boy seemed to be in quite a shock but Steve put his arm around his shoulder and gave you a forced smile. “I’ve got this, Y/N.”

With a last, worried look to his best friend, he and Peter left the room, leaving you and Barnes alone.

You moved the table with the tools next to where Bucky lay, reaching for the Anesthetic injection when you noticed the blood on your hands.

His blood.

It was everywhere.

His blood.

He was dying.

You could lose him.

His blood.

Suddenly you felt warm hands covering your trembling fingers, startling you but bringing your mind back to earth. Bruce gave you a small smile but nodded sternly and internally you just wanted to slap yourself. Yes, he would die if you keep sitting here! You had done this over a thousand time, get a grip, Y/N!

But it just never had been Bucky’s life you needed to safe…

Bruce gave you a sympathetic but reassuring smile, before he gently took the syringe out of your hand. While he injected it to Bucky you took the time to prepare everything – yourself included - for what was coming.

“You got this?”

You nodded, not saying anything.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo

The next few hours you could easily call the worst of your life.

Bucky’s pulse had become even weaker, his vitals worse. His whole life was literally in your hands. You didn’t dare to imagine what would happen if his heart would just stop beating, you couldn’t because then you would start to lose your mind and then you would have a breakdown and then no one would be there to safe him.

So you gave your best in removing the bullet out of his body, stopping the bleeding, sewing the wound.

You and Bruce had done everything you could possibly do.

Now the wound was fully treated and bandaged. Bucky’s face was cleaned, the burns creamed.

You were exhausted and drained on a new level, but by god, you couldn’t let yourself sleep right now. You weren’t even able too.

Not when Bucky, your Bucky was lying here, barely having escaped death.

Bruce had gone to bed a couple of hours ago, of course only after he had helped to take Bucky over to his room. Thanks to the serum in Buck’s blood, which ensured that he didn’t need any infusions, he could lay vacantly and comfortable in his bed.

You sat next to him on a chair, watching his peacefully resting face. Fondly you brushed some hair out of his face.

HE had finally gained a little more colour and even his heart rate was normal again, giving you hope that he’ll finally be awake soon.

“Please, come back to me,” you whispered while you gently brought his hand up to you lips, putting a soft kiss on it.

OoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoOoO

You must have felt asleep because the next thing you knew Steve was entering the room, a frown on his face.

“Bucky is stable now,” you murmured still half asleep, trying to hide the yawn that escaped you.

Steve chuckled. “Yes, I got it the other twenty times you’ve said that today, too. I’m more concerned for you, Y/N.”

“Me? But how are you feeling? I see Bruce had done a good job on your own injuries.”

“Don’t try to change the topic. You know what? You go and get some deserved sleep, while I watch over him, alright?”

“But if anything happens- “you protested.

“I’ll make sure to call you,” Steve promised, a soft smile on his lips, before he shooed you out of the room.

As soon as the door closed behind you, you knew you couldn’t go back to sleep. Not when he wasn’t in reach anymore.

So you paced around the rooms, cleaning anything that was in sight, just to keep your thoughts from the endless racing ‘what ifs’. Friday updated you with every small information or change or anything that concerned Bucky’s health.

When you entered the kitchen you were surprised to find Peter was still here, eating Tony’s inventories of his favourite cookies. This time it was you who joined him.

Apparently he couldn’t sleep either so the next few hours you let yourself get distracted by Peter’s entertaining stories and little jokes, until the end of Steve’s shift drew to a close.

Carefully, not wanting to make any loud noises you opened the door to Bucky’s and yours shared room, Peter who wanted to visit Bucky too, was right behind you.

The early morning sunshine shined through the window right on Bucky’s peaceful features. It made him look like an angel. Though it would be beautiful any other time, now it just made your heart clench.

With a very exhausted face Steve stood up from the chair he was sitting at and ran his hand through his messy hair, while he still managed to give you a hopeful smile.

“How is he?” You asked him, while you slowly approached Bucky’s bed.

Steve cleared his throat. “His vitals are still fine. Bruce came a couple of hours ago to take a few tests. Everything looked good.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I thought you promised me…” You turned around to the Captain reproachfully and a little hurt but he just looked slightly guilty.

“Y/N, have you seen yourself? I wanted to let you sleep at least for a while.”

Peter, who noticed the uprising tension between you caused by the lack of sleep, immediately stepped in. “But when’s he gonna wake up?”

“I don’t know, Pete.” You shook your head, wrapping your arms around your chest.

“But- But it’s a when, right? Not an if?”

“Of course, Pete, I-“

“How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?”

You whirled around. “Bucky...”

There he was… even though he just woke up he already had this amused glint in his blue eyes, watching you all.

With a racing heart you knelt down on the ground in front of where he lay. While you gently put a hand on his forehead to see if his fever vanished you tried to hold your tears back. “How are you feeling?”

Bucky used his hand to put it on top of your own before he grinned weakly. “Well, my eyebrow hurt.”

You chuckled and managed a teary laugh. “Oh? Just your eyebrow?”

Considering there was nearly nothing left of his right eyebrow…

You moved a little as Steve knelt down beside you, giving a little space. “You gave me quite a fright there, pal.” He stated, looking just as relived as you felt. “You know I’ve had everything under control.”

Bucky laughed at this, clearly not believing anything. “Yeah sure. I’ve hear this one over 70 years ago, too, you know.”

Suddenly his eyes locked on something behind you and it was a moment of realization lasting only a split second. When you turned around to see what had caught his attention you noticed Peter who had appeared in the door frame, looking a little bit embarrassed by all the eyes laying on him.

“Surprised to see you here, Spider kid,” Bucky said to which Peter’s eyes widened.

“You- you do really remember me?”

“How couldn’t I? Your attack was quite surprising at the airport. With those sticky ...” Bucky tried to intimate peter’s movement, struggling for words.

“Nets. Spider nets,” Peter explained with an excited and proud grin.

“You made them yourself?”

You looked over to Steve who had been watching their conversation in delight and the both of you shared an amused grin about the fan boy. You decided to give them turning friends a little space.

“You’ll be okay?” you mouthed and when Bucky gave you a reassuring nod you and Steve left the room for a while.

You went to the kitchen where you prepared some sandwiches and something to drink for everyone and put them on a tablet.

Steve sat down on a chair at the kitchen isle removing some leftover cookie crumbs. “Did Bruce finally go to bed?”

“Yes, fortunately. Though, I don’t think it will last any longer. He’s Bruce after all.”

The whole night he had stayed awake taking care of all of you, bringing blankets, food, coffee, treating Bucky… He was a real hero.

“And you should go, too, you haven’t really slept in more than 30 hours,” he said in a stern tone.

“Take a sandwich, Steve.”

“And I know you weren’t sleeping during my shift!” He protested but took the sandwich nevertheless.

You held both your hands up in defense. “Alright, alright! You got me there. Let me just- “A pleading look to the door that lead to Bucky’s room and he understood.

“Yeah, yeah, sure go ahead but I’m watching you.”

With raised eyebrows but still smiling you made your way over to Bucky again, though not without shouting over your shoulder, “You’re not my Dad, Steve!”

You walk in on Peter and Bucky laughing about something; Peter still with a bright, joyful grin on his face. Delighted for this conversation with his hero.

With a smile on your lips you leant against the doorframe and watched the scenery. Bucky was obviously still weak and tired yet you could still see the amusement in his eyes. It meant a lot for him that this boy admired him. While there’s certainly a lot of respect from Peter’s side, there’s not a bit of fear, just honest curiosity.

As soon as Peter noticed you he said a quick goodbye to Bucky and wished him a good recovery, then he hurried out of the room, leaving the both of you alone.

Bucky meets your eyes and you just stopped, and of course you couldn’t help but admire the loving and tender expression in his beautiful blue eyes.

“Hey there,” you whispered softly.

“Hi, doll.”

Slowly you made your way to sit on the edge of his bed. “Peter’s an adorable kid, isn’t he?”

A small laugh escaped his lips and made your heart beat double.

“Indeed, he is. I like his spirit.”

A moment of silence occurred in which the both of you just looked at each other.

“You quite scared me there, Buck,” you then stated, not trusting you voice to speak any louder than a whisper.

“Yeah, I didn't expect to return to you this way, either.”

“How are you feeling?” You placed a hand on his right cheek. “And now please be honest.”

Bucky took a deep breath before he closed his eyes and put his own hand on top of yours. “I’m feeling way better than you think, doll. Don’t be concerned.”

You frowned in astonishment. He’s got nerves. “Don’t be concerned? Love, you’ve just been hit by a bullet. You have cuts and bruises and burns all over your body! How can I not be concerned? Why - why are you looking at me like that?”

He was looking at you in a way as if he didn’t hear a word you just said. Bucky just laid there, smiling, while he lifted a hand to your cheek and gently struck it.

“I’ve missed you.”

Bucky moved to sat up halfway and you just opened your mouth to protest to no move or the stitched will reopen, when he was already pulling you in to a soft kiss. Your eyes fluttered shut and as always your whole body and mind said good night.

“Your lips are so soft. I could kiss them all day,” he murmured in between your lips.

Then don’t stop, was all you wanted to say, but you realized his health was more important right now. So you removed yourself a little and wanted to look reproachfully but honestly you couldn’t help with this man. “You’re still looking rather pale, love, you should stay in bed for a while. I’ll bring you food.”

But the moment you let go of him he pulled you further down again so you were now leaning against his side.

Immediately you protested. “You’re injured, Buck. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I’m still fit enough for this,” he replied cheeky while laying his arm around you. Snuggling into him, always careful not to hurt him somehow, you were about to close your eyes and just enjoy this moment, when a chuckle made you rip them open again.

Peter stood in the door frame, a mischief grin on his face.

“Oh, and Mr. Bucky?

Your eyebrow looks lit, by he way!”

#Bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes #avengers #avengers imagine #marvel #marvel imagine #avengers x you #avengers x reader

237 notes · View notes

sandoriyon-p · 4 years

Text

selfish | carlos oliveira x reader [request]

Ah, yes, angst! Thank you so much, dear anon!... *grabby hands* Please, more, more of angst for my soul!

“How could you be this stupid?!”

“Yeah, yeah, you already asked that. It’s the fourth time now, stop repeating yourself.”

The sound of your arguing broke the silence in the underground the very moment you walked in. It wasn’t loud, but you had a feeling it was loud enough for people in the subway cars to hear it too. You wondered what they thought about such a situation - it didn’t take long to come with one, certainly a very right conclusion: they were very tired with the noise you two were making… and, honestly, so were you.

“Stop repeating myself? It’s not something I can stop talking about, not just like that! You nearly got yourself killed, Y/N!” You really wished Carlos would stop screaming right next to you - he made it so tempting to simply put your hands over your ears and ignore him.

At the same, you could see his hands gripping onto his gun harder than he should be, and yet, you said nothing to that. If he did that hard enough, maybe he would actually break it in half. And that would surely end “the discussion”.

In your shallow ignorance you tried to remember why Carlos was actually angry at you. Did you say something insulting? No, certainly not. Maybe you nearly shot him while aiming at a zombie? No, of course not. Your shooting skill was too sharp to make such a mistake.

What was it then?

Ah, you remembered, just in the same moment you heard a shout of your name.

You nearly got yourself killed, like Carlos said. Or maybe…?

The whole circumstance didn’t look that horrific. You two were supposed to leave the subway and clear the place around it from all undeads you could find. It sounded like a simple thing, but after a moment, you realized you could find a lot of supplies laying around too. Indeed, most of them were left next to zombies that, you were more than sure, were already taken care of.

Spotting the ammo for your gun, you swiftly moved to gather it. There was a zombie behind it, but that didn't concern you much. Still, you decided to use your knife first to see if it wouldn’t try to “wake up” suddenly. Three slashes met with no response; it was safe to make your move.

Yet, when you crouched down to take what you wanted, the changed civilian grabbed onto your leg suddenly. His teeth became visible, ready to drown into your skin, but you were faster. With a sharp tug, you quickly stepped back and put as many bullets as you had left in its head.

Then… actually, no. You didn’t, in fact, get yourself killed. You just nearly got yourself bitten by a zombie.

What you did was stupid, yes, but you couldn’t leave the supplies behind, especially now, during a freaking apocalypse. At the same, even when you nearly got yourself bitten, you knew you had the whole situation completely under control. You were not a civilian anyway - you knew how to use a gun and protect yourself. You knew to be always aware of your surroundings, ready to jump into the action or escape a dangerous situation.

Carlos was exaggerating things, to put it simply - that was what you thought.

Yet, that didn’t annoy you (perhaps from his perspective the whole situation looked… much worse) - the fact that he didn’t want to stop talking about it was what made you annoyed.

You could hear him still speaking about your stupid action, how dangerous it was and how fatal it could end. His voice was too loud, it made your head throb.

You just wanted for him to stop pointing out your mistakes. For him to finally shut up.

Suddenly, you turned your whole body towards Carlos’ direction, making him stop in his tracks, “Listen, I know how dangerous it was, but should I really leave the supplies behind just like that? We’re in the middle of the apocalypse and you cannot rely forever on Umbrella to provide us stuff!”

The anger was written clearly on your face and Carlos saw it. Yet, that didn’t stop him from responding, with his voice loud and annoyed as yours, “You think that’s a good reason to get yourself into danger? No, it’s not! And you don’t even think how other people would react to such stupid acts of bravery!”

“I do it, all the time! I think about the others - I want to save them! But how in the world can I do that if I don’t have anything to protect them with?!”

The grip on his weapon became harder and harder - obviously he was trying to not the anger control him. So far, you had to say, he was doing a very poor job.

You wanted to use the moment of sudden silence to speak what you still had in mind, hoping it would finally end the discussion. However, Carlos was faster than you.

“Alright then, Y/N, go! Go outside and get yourself killed while gathering unnecessary supplies to protect the civilians! Be as selfish as you want to be!”

You heard him, clearer than everything else. His words made your blood freeze.

Enough was enough.

You wanted to say so many things, to explain yourself, to remind him you were a professional. However, you limited yourself with biting your lips, until they would bleed.

No words left you and, at the same time, you noticed a change in Carlos expression. It looked like… he regretted what he had said. You could see that in his next action as well, in how he suddenly stopped gripping onto his weapon and tried to approach you gently.

You wanted nothing of that. You just wanted to be alone. Far from him.

Remaining speechless, you firmly shook your head and turned around to walk further into the subway. Your tempo was fast, nearly resembling a run, but no matter how fast you were moving, you couldn’t escape Carlos and his calling for you to not go away, not now.

His earlier words, however, about your selfishness, about how you should just go out and get yourself killed, for real that time, were louder than your name on his lips.

Nobody asked a thing when you stepped into one of the subway cars. All of them seemed to act like they were very interested in something… something else than your and Carlos’ argument. Yet, you could still feel their curious stares on you. They probably thought that the fight was too serious to let your relationship survive.

To hell with them. They could think what they wanted and you wouldn’t give a damn.

The anger started to become weaker and weaker as you found an empty spot in the farthest part of the subway cart. You were alone and could finally gather your thoughts… to look at everything from Carlos’ perspective.

You knew he was… concerned about you. Maybe more than he should be.

Your relationship was still “fresh”, barely three months old. You were good friends first, sharing jokes during the hardest times or embraces during your “friendly dates”.

But then, you both realized it wasn’t enough. You wanted to be together. To love each other, not just to like each other.

And God, you loved each other so much. That was more than certain. You always made sure to protect each other, to make sure the other would not end wounded. You were always… so protective of each other.

Protective and afraid that something awful would happen.

You and Carlos felt the constant fear - no matter what, it was always there. Waiting, to wake up in the worst moments. It invaded your dreams, making you see the situations where your lover would die, again and again, and you couldn’t do anything to stop that.

You and Carlos never wanted for those dreams to turn into reality. You tried really hard to never let those dreams turn into reality.

But that was nearly what you did. You nearly got yourself killed - because you forgot about the nightmares.

You were selfish and you let yourself forget about them. Forget about Carlos and his own fear. You were selfish because you put yourself under civilians and above your boyfriend. Above his own fears and nightmares.

Tears were falling down your cheeks, but you failed to notice them.

Until someone, with a gentle touch, wiped them away.

Carlos was suddenly sitting next to you, leaning forward to catch a look at you while not invading your personal space. He held a soft smile, the softest you had ever seen on him, with his own eyes holding tears.

For a long moment, you two didn’t say anything. You simply sat in silence, looking at each other, trying to understand what the hearts could not say. It was comfortable, peaceful… loving.

Still without words, Carlos’ eyes fell on your hand. You could feel his hesitation as he moved his own hand towards yours, taking it gently. His fingers started to caress your skin slowly as his lips alternately fell open and became closed, again and again. It was obvious he was fighting with himself, looking for the right words to tell you. And you remained silent, waiting patiently for what he had to say.

Finally, Carlos took a long breath and looked into your eyes again, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I… shouldn’t have said all those things.” You knew it - you could see it in his expression. Yet, you still said nothing and he took that as a sign to continue, “I really shouldn’t have. And, of course, I didn’t mean those words - I don’t want you to go there, to risk your life like that. I don’t want you to die.”

You could see the tears in his eyes more clearly. They threatened to fall down his cheeks - they were actually falling down his cheeks, you realized. Yet, Carlos did nothing to wipe them away. He kept looking into your eyes, his voice so soft, so quiet, “I was scared. It was like my nightmare was so close to turn into reality. I saw you, getting bitten.” More tears started to fall down - they could be heard in his voice too, “I saw myself, killing you to not let you get transformed into it.”

A mere thought about it made you shudder; you knew Carlos noticed that. You knew he wanted to gather you into his arms to comfort you. To protect you from the nightmare that threatened to appear again.

And you let him do that.

The embrace was tight and yet no words of complaining left your lips. Instead, you hushed the man you loved, your hands resting on his back as his rested on your waist. Once again, you simply sat like that, in silence, comforting each other.

“That will never happen and you know it.” The words left your lips, softly, barely there, and they made Carlos embrace you even harder, “The nightmares we have will never turn into reality.”

You knew that he didn’t believe you, not completely. That it wouldn’t stop the tears from leaving your and his eyes. That you probably just wanted to comfort yourself and him, hoping it would keep the fear away.

But it was pointless, so, after a long moment, you let yourself capture his cheeks in your hands.

“I just need to remember the man who cares about me, who loves me, who wants for me to be safe. The man who I need to place above me as well.” And when his eyes found yours again, you smiled widely and added: “I’ll continue to be selfish, but I will not let his nightmares turn into reality.”

#angst is my blood type #carlos oliveira #carlos oliveira x reader #resident evil

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sneezefiction · 4 years

Note

daichi x female reader where they both had a crush on each other in hs but never let the other know (but everyone else knew heh). she didn't want to distract him from volleyball and he was scared she would reject him since a lot of other guys liked her. now they're both out of college and single and run into each other!

Daichi x Reader

an absolutely precious request!!! thanks for the idea and I hope you enjoy it uvu (i decided to make them freshman at university in this fic, just fyi)

a/n: aghh I love Daichi so much. the first words that come to mind when i think of him are “warm, genuine, and protective.” here’s some campus cuteness!! i tried to do a bulleted list, but got carried away and wrote a short one-shot heh <3

warnings: none, read freely!

wc: 1950

---

There are two kinds of people: Those who don’t fear rejection and those that do. Unfortunately, you and Daichi both fell into the latter category.

From the moment Daichi laid eyes you, he couldn’t take them off of you. The scrunched up face you make when you laugh, the empathetic glance you gifted someone with when they scored a bad grade on a test, and the sweet smile you would shoot his way if he ever caught your gaze.

It got his heart racing, bearing a side of him no one had seen before. It was an aching mixture of the protective feeling he got when furiously defending his team on the court and the overwhelming joy he drowned in after a volleyball victory.

Both fiery and vulnerable.

You on the other hand hadn’t noticed Daichi until your 2nd year.

Yeah, you were both in the same year, but your classes never seemed to match up so he didn’t stick out to you. Your infatuation with the boy truly began at a practice game against a guest team in the Karasuno gym. You’d only gone to appease a friend, but Daichi hooked you immediately. His voice deep, full of command and confidence. You so admired his ability to control the spirit of the court and it was thrilling to witness his powerful, fearless receives.

He’s also built. Just sayin.

The both of you were hooked on each other, but there were a couple of problems.

First, you knew how much he loved volleyball. The way his eyes lit up at the sight of the court would give anyone chills. You couldn’t bear to distract him even in the slightest with some kind of confession. It felt obvious that rejection would be in your future if you even tried to ask him out, something you would be nervous about even if volleyball weren’t an obstacle.

Second, the confidence that Daichi exuded on the court didn’t fully translate outside of it. He knew that so many guys were after you. You’re absolutely gorgeous, talented, and witty, able to make an entire class laugh. Traits that any guy would be lucky to find in a girl. So it wasn’t a surprise that half the team, half the school really, thought you were cute. Daichi wasn’t sure he could stand up to that. Even with Asahi and Sugawara’s attempts to convince Daichi that you definitely liked him back, he didn’t want to risk it.

“Daichi-san, what’s the worst that could happen?” Asahi pushes, “You do realize that she always cheers for your number right? She’s always looking your way in class and on the court.”

Sugawara huffs, “I would have asked her out myself if it weren’t for your stupid crush.” Daichi sends a sharp glare at Suga, making him snicker through his signature smile.

It was clear that the two of you had a crush on each other, but timing really is everything. Daichi had to focus on finding his confidence off the court. You needed your own wake up call: the freedom to make your feelings known without fearing the outcome.

---

Flash forward to your Freshman year at university. Spring brought cherry blossoms and fresh feelings, contrasting perfectly with the dreary Winter months you’d just escaped from. You wish you’d worn an extra layer, but you’re simply stuck with a thin, long sleeve shirt today. The 1st semester of college went by quickly, not leaving you much time to make friends or establish a social life in general, but you were determined to make the 2nd semester memorable.

You decided to join a study group that met regularly at the library. It’s pretty early in the new year, so you didn’t expect many people to show up, so you tried not to get your hopes up. The chilly air outside made you walk a little faster up the concrete stairs. Taking a deep breath to calm your heart rate, you reach for the grand wooden door to the library. Finding the meeting room wasn’t difficult, but what you didn’t expect was to be the only one there. So you wait a while, pulling out your books and holding out hope. You weren’t banking on any more surprises, but wow you’re about to be in for a real treat.

Daichi peers in through the door window to the meeting room only to see the back of a girl's head. He sighs, I’ve probably got the wrong room, but decides to check with her just in case.

He cracks open the door, “Excuse me, is this the… uhhh…” You turned your head toward the male, your (h/c) hair whipping around with it. Both of you do a bit of a double take, eyes widening in recognition.

“You- you’re Daichi, right?” You asked, your eyes bright with silent excitement and cheeks getting pinker by the second.

“Ah yeah, hey! Y/n?” He responds, scratching the back of his head with his own dimpled smile.

You smile wider at his remembrance, “That’s me!” You both turn to look around the room, unsure what to do next. You decide to add, “But apparently it’s just me,” you laugh a little, “I don’t think anyone’s gonna be showing up anytime soon either, sorry.”

“I don’t mind!” He says a bit too eagerly. “I mean, um. I was honestly just looking for someone to hangout with anyways.” He straightens up, doing his best to be honest about his appearance.

“Ah, me too actually. I had a long semester and I still don’t really… know anybody.” You tilt your head cutely, but you can’t help but sound a little down about it.

Daichi just nods in understanding. “It hasn’t exactly been eventful for me either. Sugawara and Asahi are both at different universities, so it’s odd not knowing anyone at all.” You sigh and nod back.

He takes a moment to think, face getting a little flushed at his idea. There’s a coffee shop a couple blocks off of campus… and judging by the lack of faces, there won’t be a meeting here today.

“Hey, y/n, would you want to maybe walk to get a coffee with me? My treat of course.” He offers while adjusting the sleeves of his black, fuzzy jacket, doing his best to hide any hint of nervousness in his voice.

Your heart starts to beat faster. It’s not a date. It’s not a date. It’s not a date… but wait it kinda is? I mean he’s paying?

You let yourself stare off for a moment too long without saying anything and Daichi puts a hand behind his head, with an apologetic look. “Hey, no worries if you don’t want to, just thought I’d offer. I feel like we might have some stuff in common.”

“No, no, I’d love to! Really. Just let me pack up my books and we can get going.” You turn to pack up your book bag, collecting the papers you let loose and gathering stray pens. Daichi waits patiently in the doorway, secretly freaking out a little that you actually want to go get coffee with him??

You both make your way out of the room, back out the door, and onto the brick path toward the cafe.

One look at you and Daichi can tell that you’re shivering from the biting wind chill. “Are you gonna be okay, y/n? You look cold.”

“A-ah no I’m okay, j- just kind of chilly.” Your teeth chatter through the entire sentence, all of your lying creds dropping way down.

Before you can stop him, Daichi is shaking off his big, cozy jacket, grabbing your book bag from you, and placing the coat over your shoulders.

It’s warm… and smells warm too? If warm and snug were a scent, it would be Daichi, you decide.

Meanwhile Daichi is doing his best to hide a smirk at how smooth that was. Thank you, wind god, he acknowledges soundlessly.

As you both make your way to the road, he stretches out his arm, offering you something to link your own arm onto.

You take it gratefully. You begin to relax as you fall into rhythm with his own footsteps and begin to make conversation.

“You know, I remember you pretty well. I would go to a lot of Karasuno’s games. You really are talented, Daichi.” He turns his head down toward you, his short black hair getting ruffled by the wind and a sweet grin forming on his face.

“I remember! You were kinda loud actually.” He chuckles and you elbow him gently followed by a feigned indignant, “Hey, rude!” Then joining him with a giggle that makes him go oh so soft.

“But really, y/n, you encouraged us… me, a whole lot back then. I really appreciated the support.” You flash him a grin, “That’s what I’m here for.” You reply.

Despite his nerves, Daichi feels brave for a moment, choosing to be honest, “Y’know I meant to speak to you more then. I just wasn’t sure how… something about highschool really screws with your head, y’know? It’s easy to get caught up in everyone else’s business.” He sighs, attempting to sound thoughtful, but he’s entirely focused on your response.

You look ahead, stepping up to the next crosswalk, making sure to watch your step before commenting.

“Same here. I really… just didn’t want to get in your way.” You explain.

He looks back down to you questioningly, inviting further comment.

“I can tell how much you loved the team.” You smile warmly, looking down at your feet as they hit the pavement. “And I loved watching how seriously you all took the games. I felt like I might’ve been intruding.”

“It’s not intrusive to start a conversation y’know.” You’re one to talk, he shoots back at himself.

You both approach the coffee shop, he lets you walk in first, taking the jacket off your shoulders as soon as y’all find a seat. He asks for your coffee order and walks up to order while you get comfortable at the shiny, wooden table. Cute atmosphere, white ceramic mugs, and a sweet date? This might just be my new place. You nod to yourself.

Daichi, looking really smart in a brown wool sweater and black jeans, makes his way back to the table with your and his coffee. Once he gets himself settled, you continue where you left off.

Coffee in hand, it was time to subtly shoot your shot.

“I didn’t start a conversation with you because I wanted you to be able to focus completely on what you love. Daichi, I really liked you. How could I get in the way of what you’re so passionate about?”

His mouth slightly agape, he lets himself get slightly flustered. Wow, she got to it before I did… wait a second??? She actually did... does like me? Am I an idiot?

“W-wait really?” He stammers, then attempts to compose himself.

“I mean, same here. I, uh, liked you a lot. I just thought you would find someone before I could say anything… and I… guess I didn’t want to totally shatter my ego.” He says candidly, placing a hand on the side of his flushed face, squishing it slightly.

You laugh a little at his honesty, but you’re blushing now too.

“So do you still, y’know- are you interested in making this a regular thing? I just want to get to know you better, really.” He expresses with a genuine sweetness you’d never encountered in a guy before. “I know it’s been awhile since then, but I think it’d be fun.”

“Yeah, let's take it slow, but I would love that.'' You gift him with your most charming smile, brushing a stray hair away from the front of your face.

“So tell me about more yourself…”

#daichi x you #daichi x reader #daichi sawamura #ask #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyu #haikyuu fanfiction #hq headcanons #hq fanfic #hq #daichi sawamura x reader #daichi headcanon #sneezefiction

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horrorslashergirl · 4 years

Text

Chromeskull x Cop!Reader x The Collector

A dark themed erotic novel for the twisted minds

Resume: A night-shift for our dear rookie cop Reader takes a dark turn when the supposed thief is much more. They always say you should stay vigilent, and as a police officer, you will do anything to protect the others, right? Let’s find out!

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

Chapter 1: Nightshift Turn Out (You are here)

Chapter 2: Twisted Tongue

Chapter 3: Rising from fire like the Phoenix

Chapter 4: Video Shadows

Chapter 5: New beginning and Past memories

Chapter 6: Lovers Reunion

Chapter 7: Sweet Blackmail

Chapter 8: False Freedom

Chapter 9: Ugly Jealousy

Chapter 10: Sinful Ecstasy

It was another night, the clock showing the time, it was 01:13 pm, the nightshift always was a tough one in Chicago and you knew it, your partner who worked at the Chicago Police for over 4 years told you about all kind of things he saw in this time. You were a rookie for almost 4 months and so far nothing interesting, some thieves here and there, drunk people causing scenes, but that was about it. You sipped on your coffee, already getting cold, taking a bite of the strawberry cake you packed with yourself, your eyes counting the seconds on the clock on the wall.

"Be glad this night is peaceful and you can go home in the morning fresh." your partner said, looking over some magazines, his feet rested on the desk.

"I'm not hoping for any form of action, but time sure goes slow when you got nothing to do." you muttered, a sigh leaving your pink lips.

Your partner, his name Bobby was ready to say something when there was a call from the dispatcher, announcing someone called 911 from one of the houses from the nearby subury, making you stand up from your chair, putting on your belt with the gun and handcuffs.

"Don't sweat it, lioness. I'm sure there is just a thief, especially in the suburb." he said, getting the car keys of the police car and walking down the hallway with you following on his steps.

Getting inside with car with Bobby, he drove to the suburb, your eyes following the scenario outside, the big buildings transforming into empty roads and trees. Your heartbeat was picking up a little in excitement, you were still new to the whole scenario of crimes and illegal doings, so emotions got the best of you.

"Calm down. It's either a prank or a burglar." Bobby said, chuckling a little as you now noticed how one of your legs was shaking, talk about nervous habits.

After half an hour, he stopped the car in front of a house, it was one of these big houses, rich families owned, making you remember how small and insignificant your apartment was. Getting out of the car, you followed your partner up the stairs to the main door, his fist knocking firmly on the white door.

"Police! Open up." your partner hollered, after some moments of waiting, nothing.

"It looks like there's none. All the lights are turned off." you muttered, feeling a little anxious from the whole scene, no neighbors, no lights; it really made you stand on your toes.

"I will check up the backdoor, you wait up here in case someone does come." Bobby said, going towards the back, his hand on the gun in case something was to happen.

Counting the time in your head, you couldn't wait anymore, so you tried the main door, seeing it was open; so someone was home, right? You walked slowly inside, the darkness making it impossible to see clearly. The house was indeed big, big enough that you could lose yourself if you're not careful. Your steps took you upstairs, looking down the hallway, from the corner of your eye you saw the curtains of the window move, seeing a form hidden there. You gulped down and took small steps towards it, pulling the black material aside to see a small blonde girl with tears filled eyes, puffy and red from crying.

"What happened, sweetie? Are your parents home?" you asked, crouching down, pulling some of her golden tresses from her face.

"We have to leave. He is coming." she whimpered, then there was a gunshot from downstairs, making you stand up, eyes widen. Until now, in your previous missions you had never used the gun, so that made your hands tremble a little. Then you heard it, loud footsteps coming upstairs, making you pull your gun out, making the girl shriek as she was shaking in fear, not like you were any better, but like hell you would let whoever was coming up hurt you, especially this child.

Your eyes took in the form coming in your vision, bulky and tall, dressed in all black with a carapace like foam-mask, the eyes behind shining in the darkness, as he stopped to look at you, the gun pointed at him.

"Don't move or I will shot you." you said, trying to sound authoritative, but failed as a small shutter came at the end, your weakness and uncertainness showing.

He took a step towards you.

"I'm not joking! I will fucking shot you!" you screamed, glaring at this man, your finger shaking close to the trigger.

He took another step and you indeed pulled the trigger, but before you did so, he grasped your wrists in his hand, the bullet flying into the ceiling above you, the little girl screamed. Your eyes locked on hers.

"Run!" you said, trying to fight this man back, only for him to kick you straight into the gut, a gasp leaving your mouth. Your elbow flew straight at his face, connecting with his mouth and you knew you had to run too, seeing his black eyes flash with anger.

His gloved hands grasped you by your shirt and dragged you down, then threw your body against a wall, your vision getting dizzy, seeing the stairs close to you, and before you could put up another hit, he threw you down the stairs, your body meeting each pair of stairs until your body meets the floor at the end of the staircase.

A groan left your lips, feeling pain all over your body, then your eyes meet the lifeless ones of your partner, laying just a few steps away from you, his throat slit open, his police uniform smeared with blood. You tried to get up, the sound of foots-steps making you try to crawl away as fast as possible, only for a hand to grasp your pony-tail, your forehead meeting the floorboards one time, the second time and the third it was all blackout.

"Brother! I promise you that I will take care of you." you said, on your knees in front of your older brother, your eyes looking up into ones just like yours, but much more tiered and pathetic looking.

'You don't have to.' he signed, giving you a sympathetic smile. He was sitting in a wheelchair and you couldn't believe that he was put into it, all by a motorcycle accident. The doctors were at your side, a wrinkled hand resting on your shoulder.

"He will be back on his feet, but he was to get some therapy for it. It costs a lot, but it's worth it. He has many chances." the old voice told you, making all your hopes rise up.

"If only dad and mom could be here." you said, feeling the tears forming in your eyes. Your brother rubbed one of your hands, then sign.

'It's time to wake up.' making your eyebrow furrow in confusion.

Your eyes flew open, taking in your surroundings, a basement, dark and cold. You tried to move only for an insane pain to shoot in your hands, your eyes moving up to see your hands pierced by hooks above your head, blood dripping slowly down your wrists and arms. A groan left your lips and looked to see what was going on, your eyes immediately seeing the little girl, hidden in the darkness under a desk with a chair.

The sound of the door opening made you look away, the girl crawling into the back under the furniture, your eyes taking in the man entering with a bag, his eyes taking in your hooked up form.

"What do you want?" you asked in a quiet voice, surprised even by yourself that you had the guts to speak up. He just tilted his head to the side, inspecting you, his steps moving closer towards you.

You flinched when his nitrile covered hand grasped your chin firmly, making you look directly into his eyes. You had never seen eyes like his before, so black and shining into the darkness, like the ones of a cat, making your skin crawl.

This was supposed to be a burglar, a thief, not this. You remember your partner telling you about crime cases the superior ones were trying to solve, something about kidnapping and gruesome murderers; you could only hope it wasn't the same person.

His breath hit your face, making you bite your lower lip, a habit you always made when men were close to you, in your personal space. It was like your action triggered something in him, his eyes widened and his lips parted, a purr like sound coming from him, then there was a scratch like sound, coming from where the little girl was hiding. His hand felt your face and he turned away from you.

Fuck!

This wasn't good, you had to do something to distract him, you couldn't risk someone's life, especially an innocent little girl, your soul would never be the same if she would die because of your cowardness.

"H-Hey. Come back here." you said, gulping down, seeing that he ignored you.

"Is this the best you can?" Still nothing.

"You faggot! Is this your worst!?" you snarled, making him stop, your mouth quickly shut and eyes wide open. He indeed turns back to you and you felt it, the sting on your left cheek, the material of the glove adding to the pain. He backhanded you, making tears flow down your cheeks. He glared down at you and you saw behind him as the little girl looked at you, wanting to get free and you couldn't judge her. So did you, but you were supposed to save and protect, there was no room for selfishness. Your tears filled eyes glared back at the man.

"You hit like a woman. Fucking faggot." you growled and you were prepared for another hit or worse, a stab. You felt pain, in your scalp as he tugged harshly on your ponytail, your head tilted up to meet his masked face, his own lips pulled into a snarl, pearly whites pulled into a snarl close to a wolfs.

Maybe you crossed a little the line, but seeing that he was so absorbed with you, the little girl stealthily crawled from under the desk, the door was open, it was her chance and she will take it; that's what you hoped for.

"I'm not afraid." you muttered, your stare showing defiance and the man huffed, his eyes looking from your eyes to your lips that were bloody, probably from one of his hits.

You noticed his eyes moved a little to the corner, probably ready to turn around.

Do something! Quickly!

Risking in getting his hands on the blonde little girl was out of the discussion, so you did the only thing you could possibly do, seeing how your hands were pierced and useless, you smashed your lips into his own, seeing his eyes widen, all his dark demeanor fading away like it was someone else behind the foam mask.

At first, he was still as a statue, absolutely shocked, probably none of his victims dared to pull a stunt like this one. Then it began, the reciprocation and you gasped as he began to kiss back, like a starved man, his lips moving on yours, a fight of teeth and tongue, mixed with the blood of your lips, the slight pain in your split lip making you groan and try to pull away, but his hand grasped your waist, fingers digging into your ribs, making you still as he savored you.

If only you knew what you started with that kiss.

He pulled away, a string of saliva and blood connecting your mouths, your eyes full of emotions like shock, fear, and unknown of what he will do next. Your orbs were filled with much more fear as he pulled a hunting knife from his belt, but the feeling on steel stabbing flesh didn't come, only for the hard handle of the weapon to be knocked harshly into your temple, giving you lights out, for now.

The little girl may have gotten away from him, but Asa was never one to go empty-handed, sitting into the driver's seat of the white van, he looked behind him to see the red trunk with you in it. He licked his upper lip, still tasting the blood from when he kissed you, but also something else, maybe it was coffee and also the faint taste of strawberry.

He groaned as he felt his black pants getting tighter, the start of something that wasn't blood-lust. His lips pulled into a snarl as he started the engine, hitting the pedal gas as he drove into the night. His cheek behind the mask was starting to get swollen from where you hit him, but no worry.

When he will get to the hotel he will make sure to teach you that such a risky stunt as the one in the basement was gonna end the life you had before.

Ohhh....How the strawberries tasted on your lips.

To be continued...

#Chromeskull: Laid to rest 2 #Laid to rest 2009 #Jesse Cromeans #Chromeskull #chromeskull x reader #jesse cromeans x reader #The Collector 2009 #The Collection 2012 #The Collector x reader #Asa Emory #Asa Emory x reader #slasher x reader #jesse cromeans x reader x asa emory #the collector x reader x chromeskull

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patchworkstateofmind · 3 years

Text

Promise? |Bucky x Reader

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader fucks up a mission so Bucky cheers her up.

Words: 2,2k

Warnings: a little, tiny bit of smut

A/N: This is my first time writing something even remotely smutty, so please give me a review on how you found it and if you requests, go ahead ^^

You threw your bag on the little armchair in the corner of your room. It had been a very long day to say the least, the mission, just like every other mission in the last months since you joined the team, ended in a disaster. Everybody was hurt because you made a mistake, again. Well, to be fair, nobody’s hurt bad, but nobody’s without a scratch either.

You’re not in the mood to join the others down in the living room on the common “after mission” parties, tonight you just want to bath in self-loathing, literally. You move to the little bathroom connected to your room and switch the light on the bathroom mirror on. Slowly you drag your hoodie over your body, careful not to move too much, since everything’s still hurting. At least you’ve gotten messed up the worst, so the others didn’t have to face it that bad.

Warm water is running in the bathtub as you remove all your excess clothing. You throw some bath salt in the tub and dim the light, then you slowly sink into the warmth all around you. The water encircles your body like a warm hug, and you let yourself drown into the feeling of defying gravity.

The mission was settled in outer south of Utah. In some old farm that was used by a few people to create new weapons based on the current new smartwatches out there. Something of the hardware was exchanged to explode by a triggered action. You didn’t really understand all that technic stuff but surely you could differentiate between a normal watch and one that will blow your hand right off the wrist. At least so you thought. Because during the mission you proved yourself as the least useful Avenger, since the only thing you did was standing in between Natasha and Tony who screamed at each other while they rewrote the code. So, you just stood there and tried to be helpful through looking around and finding the trigger.

The best part of the mission was then when you tried to solve the problem by destroying the trigger. Well bitch guess what, when you destroyed the trigger you more like pulled the trigger, causing all the 300 watches stored in the farm hall to explode around you.

Of course, it was bad how the mission ended, although with your action the watches were destroyed, and the code was gladly rewritten by the others, so technically the problem was solved, mission completed.

But also, one consequence of your useful action was that everybody was practically catapulted around. But with you standing in the middle of the hall you took definitely the hardest blow, pushing the air right out of chest and making it hard to breathe on the hours back to the compound.

You took a deep breath and sunk deeper into the water, head under water you finally got a few seconds of quiet before you needed to get back up and be reminded of how embarrassing this whole deal had been. Again, and again, you sank into the water, only taking deep breaths occasionally a minute or so.

You’ve just sunk down another time and didn’t notice the voice that was softly calling out your name in front of your bedroom door. “Y/N? I’m coming in!”, he said and pushed into your bedroom, which he found empty except the backpack, still fully packed and dusty. “Y/N?”, he called out again, but you didn’t hear him. “Are you in there?”, he asked and knocked on the bathroom door. The door gave in and slowly leaped open, revealing your clothes splattered across the floor and a bathtub with only your legs dangling of the edge.

Sunken in your thoughts you didn’t notice the man bowed over the tub until an ice-cold hand closes around your upper arm and drags you up. Surprised you swallow one, two breaths of water and cough them all out, clawing at the edge off the tub. Gasping for air you meet the grey eyes of the one and only Bucky Barnes, the man of your dreams, the most handsom- “WTF, Y/N!? Were you trying to fucking drown yourself?”.

You spit another wave of water out of your throat. “What?”, you stumble. “Don’t scare me like that!”, Bucky screamed and reached for a towel to dry his arm. You took a glance down and tried to discretely scoop the foam on the water on your upper body to cover everything.

“What, Bucky, I was just taking a bath, trying to calm my nerves you know?”, you say, but advert his eyes, hiding from his worried eyes. “And you always, like, kinda drown yourself when you bath?”, he asked and pointed vaguely to your body. “I was relaxing!”, you huff out and cross your arms over your chest. Making you awfully aware in what position you are in front of him.

“You are missing for an hour already, seems like you forgot the time”, he grabbed another towel from the little cabinet next to the door holding it out to you. “Come on, the others are waiting.” You take the towel from him and he turns around, leaving you privacy so you can step out of the tub. “I don’t wanna see the others right now, I’m not in the mood for a lecture from Mr America himself”, you sigh and wrap the towel around your body.

Bucky turns back around while you unplug the tub and push your clothes out of the way with your feet when you stumbled over to the sink. “They’re not wanting to give you a lecture, they’re concerned.” You raise an eyebrow, making eye contact with him in the mirror. “Concerned? That I’m not good enough to be an avenger?”, “No, that you’re trying to drown yourself because you feel guilty cause the mission went bad”. “Busted”, you sigh and turn around, leaning against the sink.

“But I wasn’t trying to drown myself!”, you quickly add and now its his turn to raise his eyebrows. “Aren’t they, like, really mad at me?”, you pick up the clothes you shed and throw them in the laundry hamper. “No, not really. But you shouldn’t worry about them”, he said. “How about you start to worry about what will happen if you continue to fuck up on the missions like that? You’re gonna really kill yourself some day if you continue with that ´I’m gonna survive everything attitude`”

“Am not!”, you pouted. “And what do you even care if I kill myself off?”. Of course, you had to say something like that, it would be too easy to just accept that you are pretty reckless on missions. But of course, you had to provoke him and now you would get hurt.

“Do you think you are nothing to us?”, he asked, seeming really angry. “Don’t act like that, you didn’t like me the minute I walked into the compound”, you said and looked to the floor, now again painfully reminded that you were only wearing a towel. “I know you don’t really like me; I don’t think anybody of you really likes me, except maybe peter, but he’s practically a golden retriever.”

Bucky took a step towards you. “Is that really what you think, cause I’m pretty sure you know that everyone of us would take a bullet for you”, his voice grew darker. “Is that so?”, you asked. You had to look up to him now that he was this close to you. The air around you had drastically changed.

You were attracted to Bucky since the beginning of your time in the compound. You couldn’t deny that him being this close to you and you only wearing a towel was making your body heat up and the pit of your belly cramp up with excitement.

“Yes, all that time, from the time you first walked into the compound, all I ever wanted to do is show you how beautiful you look.”, his metal arm sneaked around your waist to balance his weight on the rim of the sink. You were inches apart and you could feel his warm breath on your wet skin. “But all you ever did, was recklessly throw yourself into one risk after another, making it impossible to even get near to you without having a near death experience.”

His head dipped low, on a level with your ear. “And now I am actually alone with you, and you are dripping wet.” To emphasize his words a drip of water ran from your hair down your neck, his eyes following it travel down your chest and into the towel. You arched your back, pressing your chest against his, the knot of the towel hanging on for dear life. “I’m sorry, I guess I just don’t know how to appreciate my life.”, you tilt your head up, his breath sinking on your neck. “Will you show me how good life can be?”, you whispered.

His other hand snaked up your thigh, fiddling with the hem of your towel. Your breath hitched and you gasped against his neck. “Will you show me how beautiful I am? Cause I’m pretty sure I could show you more than you could show me.” You tiptoed to graze his ear with your teeth. “It takes a pretty good stamina to throw yourself into near death experiences.”

That cut the thread, Bucky let out a deep growl and his hands gripped the edge of your towel, yanking it hard of your body. His mouth sank down on your neck, sucking rough patches on your wet skin. A gasp escaped your mouth, and you pushed your hands against his chest, moving up and cupping his chin, pushing his mouth up. Love drunken and definitely horny you slammed your lips on his.

His hands drove all over your body while you rather gently licked his lips for entrance, he immediately opened and his tongue pushed greedy against yours, a fight for dominance. You trailed your hand down towards his pants, letting your fingertips brush under the hem of his shirt, just above the edge of his belt. He growled deeply, which you answered with a teasing bite to his lip.

He left your lips to slowly trail down your neck and sucked another deep purple patch against your collarbone. You threw your head back, your hands coming up to thread in his hair, pulling softly, which only made him emit another deep growl.

His lips went deeper, and you gasped sharply when his lips softly feathered over your nipple. He left a light kiss on top off it, so contrary to the rough sinful kisses you’ve shared just now. He circled the nipple slowly with his tongue, but then he placed his lips around your soft flesh, sucking harshly. You let out a pleading cry, moaning his name.

“Bucky!”, you gasped, you pulled hard on his hair, your knees getting weak. His Flesh hand snaked around your waist, holding you uptight, while his metal fingers crept up your body to play with the other peak on your breast.

You slowly got yourself on steady and his arm left your waist to caress your side. You sharply sucked the air in when his hand wandered over a particularly sore part on your ribs. “Don’t- don’t do this”, you whispered as he let his fingers carefully wander up and down your ribs again. “Bucky”, you pleaded desperate as his lips around your nipple came to a rest.

“WTF, Y/N?!”, he exclaimed and pulled away. You whined when his metal hand also left your body. “Don’t stop”, you whined and looked down at bucky who was still on eye level with your chest but now was more interested in your side. “Y/N, why didn’t you say something?”, he asked and carefully still tasted around a dark purple almost black mark that was caressing your side, from your hips up to your rips.

“Its nothing big, just a little bruise”, you said, reaching for his jaw, trying to pull him into another kiss. He leaned out of your touch “This, is not what I consider small, you should let that get checked out” “Noo”, you whined. “I don’t need to get this checked out, its literally just a bruise”.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Really?”, he pushed his fingertips into your side, elicit you are painful gasp. “Cause to me it seems more like a broken rib” You pouted. “Why did you need to do this, it was getting so good!”, you whined as he already stepped away from you and started to pick up your clothes.

He sighed and turned towards you. “Okay, doll, well make a deal”, he pressed your clothes into your arms. “You will get this treated and once you’re pain free, I will fuck you into oblivion” You look at him suspicious then you hold out your pinkie. “Promise?”, you asked. He chuckled “Sure”; he interlocked your pinkies. “I promise I will fuck you into oblivion.”

“That’s what I like”, you smirked and started to put on your clothes.

#bucky x you #bucky barns x reader #bucky imagine #bucky x female reader #bucky #marvel #bucky smut #marvel smut #bucky oneshot #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #marvel au #writing #marvel imagine #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic

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mikauzoran · 3 years

Text

Lila Fake-Dating/Emotional Blackmail Adrienette: Betting Against the House: Chapter Four

Read it on AO3: Betting Against the House: Chapter Four: The Worst Date Ever

“…So…” Lila finally spoke up on their short stroll to Assa Café just down the street from the school. “Nino’s going to fail Physics?” she carefully sounded him out, trying to determine if Nino’s excuse to pull Adrien aside held water.

Adrien made a thoughtful noise. “Maybe not fail outright, but he’s certainly not going to do well.” He cast her a sidelong glance and then pretended to come clean. “The Physics project isn’t actually what Nino and I talked about.”

Her grip on his arm tightened until it was almost painful. “Oh? Then what did you two talk about? Surely you’re not spreading slander about me.”

Adrien scoffed. “Lila, do you think I’d risk Marinette’s safety like that?”

It wasn’t a lie. He was simply leaving it up to her to decide what the truth was.

She seemed to come to the conclusion that he wouldn’t play around when it came to protecting Marinette because her hold on his arm started to loosen.

“Besides,” he sighed, “what would be the point of telling anyone? It’s not like they’d believe me. You’ve got the wool pulled too far down over their eyes.”

Lila hummed softly as she contemplated the merits of his statements.

“Nino’s planning a surprise for Alya,” Adrien volunteered to throw her off the scent. “He’s been consulting me because I’m a hopeless romantic and good at giving gifts and orchestrating surprises.”

“Is that so?” Lila chuckled, a sly grin beginning to form at the corners of her lips. “Prove it. I expect a romantic gift from you promptly.”

Adrien shrugged, pretending that it was of no consequence.

On the inside, he heaved an enormous sigh of relief because it appeared that he had outfoxed her and that she believed he hadn’t said anything to Nino about the blackmail.

“Anything for you, Ma Fleur,” he replied obediently.

They arrived at the café—small and intimate with counter service and only a few seats—a couple minutes later.

Lila did not look impressed as she glanced over the menu. “I guess I could get one of their detox juices. What do you usually get here?”

“Typically, I order the salmon or tofu bentou,” he informed, getting out his wallet. “Their ingredients are really fresh, and the chef is fantastic, so you can’t actually go wrong.”

“The lunchboxes do look good,” she granted reservedly, not wanting to appear too excited. “But rice has so many carbs.”

“So just eat the meat and the vegetables,” Adrien suggested with a shrug. “It’s not like you have to eat everything.”

She pursed her lips, debating. “Which is better: the miso pork or the teriyaki chicken?”

“I don’t know, actually,” he sheepishly admitted. “I’ve never had them. I’m a pescatarian.”

She stood there for almost twenty full seconds gawking at him. “No, you’re not.”

“I’m pretty sure I am,” he snorted lightly, not appreciating her dictating tone. “And I think I would be the best person to ask about my eating habits.”

“I’ve seen you eat chicken before,” she accused, acting like this was some kind of personal betrayal. “I saw you when your father invited me over to dine with you.”

“I’ll eat it if it’s put in front of me,” he confessed, “but, when I have any say about what I eat, I’m pescatarian, so I’ve never ordered the miso pork or the teriyaki chicken here.”

She blew out an indignant little huff, crossing her arms over her chest. “You don’t have to be such a jerk about it.”

Adrien physically bit his tongue to hold in a snarky response.

“…I guess I’ll get the miso pork,” she eventually decided. “Evian to drink and a matcha tiramisu. It really did sound good when I heard you talking to Elise about it the other day.”

“Perfect. Sounds good.” He gave a nod of approval as he moved down the counter to the register to pay.

“I’m going to take a seat,” she apprised, turning in a way so that her hair whipped around behind her sharply.

Seating was extremely limited—a bench seat along the wall opposite the counter and a handful of tables with individual chairs on the other side—and the restaurant was very small, so Lila didn’t have far to go. She could hear Adrien exchanging pleasantries with the cashier, but she couldn’t understand what they were saying because they were holding their conversation in Japanese.

This irritated her for a reason she couldn’t quite pinpoint, and it only got more intense as the cashier laughed and smiled at something Adrien had said.

Lila took a deep breath and forced herself to stay calm as she watched Adrien finish at the counter and bring over their trays.

She hated his charm, his irresistibility, his boyish handsomeness, and the way he was so nice to everyone who wasn’t her.

Conversation was sparse as they consumed their food.

They’d never really talked in the years that they’d known one another. Adrien was civil and polite but didn’t make an effort to initiate chitchat, and Lila hadn’t bothered to get to know him either.

He was just a pretty face and a bleeding heart whom she was more than willing to use and step on in order to climb her way up. Besides, she was more than half certain that he hated her, despite his “moral high ground”, “patience of a saint” act. She had never seen the point in truly getting to know him. It wasn’t like he really cared about getting to know her, despite his pretended amicability.

“You’re acting awfully sullen,” she observed when five minutes passed without either saying anything to the other.

He shrugged.

He did that a lot, and it annoyed her. It was like he couldn’t be bothered to give her a proper answer. She didn’t like him dismissing her like that.

“You should smile,” she advised. “The point of this date is for you to make a show of how in love you are with me and how happy we are together. I’m dating you for the media exposure, so stop sulking and look like you’re excited to be with me or something.”

“Sorry,” he chuckled darkly. “It’s a little difficult to act cheerful when you’re upset.”

“What do you have to be upset about?” she challenged.

He eyed her with a dangerously bland look, cocking an eyebrow as if daring her to say it again. “You took something important from me, Lila,” he explained flatly. “My father is a little stingy with my schedule, so I had to plan tonight’s game night with my friends almost a month in advance, but, now, here I am wasting an evening with you. I was looking forward to game night, but you ruined that for me, so, yeah. I think most people would say I had something to be upset about.”

She gave a little snort and tossed her head. “Well, be upset later. Right now, you’re on the clock, so make a good show of being in love with me.”

He sighed, closing his eyes and taking a couple deep breaths to defuse his temper. When he opened them, he smiled brightly, looking for all the world like he was enjoying their outing. “Is this better?”

“Perfect.” She decreed, satisfied…until he reached across the table and stole a bite of her matcha tiramisu. “Hey! Thief! I didn’t say you could have any!” she squawked in protest.

He smirked at her around his spoon. “Sorry, Ma Fleur. I didn’t think you’d mind. I mean…don’t you love me enough to share?”

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“Come on,” he teasingly whispered. “If I have to put on an act, so do you. No one’s going to believe I love someone who bosses me around and treats me like garbage. You have to at least pretend to be worthy of love; otherwise, everyone’s going to see through this sham.”

Her lip curled back into a scowl as she hissed, “I don’t know, Adrien. You seem to love your father, even though he treats you like dirt. Maybe people will just assume you’re a masochist.”

Adrien recoiled, the fake smile dropping clear off his face. He gazed at Lila with contempt but didn’t voice a response.

Her sneer phased into a discontented frown. “You’re going to have to do better at this fake dating thing in the future when we’re in public; otherwise, Marinette might find that there are some unfortunate rumors circulating about her.”

Adrien rolled his eyes. “There are literally two or three other people in this restaurant right now, and they’re all around back. No one’s watching our shameful little display, and I did just fine all day at school. Back off, Lila.”

It was a gamble confronting her like that, but, for once, it payed off.

Lila shrugged and sat back in her seat, returning to her dessert disinterestedly. “You did do well at school today. …Make sure you keep up the good work, and maybe we won’t have a problem.”

Adrien nodded, scooping up some rice with his chopsticks and bringing it up to his mouth to keep himself busy so that he wouldn’t press her any further and accidentally push her over the edge.

Things were quiet again for a stretch, each of them lost in their own reverie.

Several minutes later, Lila spoke in a soft, defensive voice, asking out of seemingly nowhere, “What do you like about Marinette so much, anyway?”

Adrien looked up and blinked at her in surprise, unsure if she had actually said anything and whether he had heard her right.

She arched an eyebrow at him challengingly. “Well? What do you like about her?”

Normally, this would be the point where Adrien went off on a bullet-pointed lecture about how amazing and wonderful Marinette was, but, always wary of Lila, he reined in his kneejerk response and formulated a more reserved reply.

“Her selflessness, mostly,” he confessed, cautiously elaborating. “She’s kind, even when she doesn’t have to be, and she’s always willing to take on more work on top of her already overwhelming load in order to help a friend. She’s just a good person like that. She doesn’t do it to get anything out of it…she’s just good,” he finished with a shrug.

Lila snorted, casting her eyes back down at her tiramisu. “Figures you’d go for that goody-goody martyr act. You’re so gullible.”

“…May I ask what you hate about her so much?” Adrien inquired, attempting to foster a genuine conversation.

If he could figure out what made Lila tick, maybe he could come up with a way to gain the upper hand and declaw her. He knew from studying history that some people really were just evil, but he couldn’t help but think that there was some reason why Lila acted the way she did. If he could figure her out, maybe she wouldn’t turn out to be such a lost cause after all.

Lila tossed her head, heat rising on the back of her neck and staining the tips of her ears crimson. “What I hate most is that everyone loves her so much,” she spat with venom. “She doesn’t even have to try, and everybody loves her. She’s so obnoxious with her ‘holier than thou’ attitude. She acts like she’s better than me, but she’s not, and she doesn’t deserve everybody fawning over her all the time.”

Adrien nodded, taking a long sip of his houjicha.

She was jealous, no different than Chloé. The only difference was how Lila went about expressing her jealousy.

Chloé was just a brat and a bully. (He meant that in the nicest, most loving way possible because Chloé was like a sister to him, but that didn’t stop him from seeing her less attractive sides.)

Lila was insidious. She wasn’t outwardly vicious or vindictive like Chloé. Instead, she spun intricate plans like a spider lying in wait to capture unsuspecting victims in her web of silver-tongued lies.

“Have you ever considered that it’s okay for Marinette to get attention?” he tentatively suggested. “It’s not a zero-sum game. Just because people are paying attention to her, that doesn’t take anything away from you, does it?”

“Any time people are fussing over her, they’re not lavishing me with attention; therefore, I do lose out if people pay attention to her,” Lila argued hotly. “You can forget about any delusions you have of making us get along and be friends. She has things that I want, and I’m prepared and willing to take them from her. There are some things that aren’t shareable.”

Adrien’s brow slid into a soft frown. “Like what?”

“Like you,” she replied airily, not letting him see the weight she placed on or the importance of this acquisition. “For starters, anyway.”

“I see,” he replied neutrally, taking another sip of his tea.

What he wanted to say was, “You’ll never have me”.

“Well…have you ever considered that maybe people would like you, even if you were just yourself around them?” he tried from a different angle.

She rolled her eyes. “You’re gullible and naïve. I’m my true self around you, and you despise me, don’t you?”

He bit the inside of his cheek. “Despise is a little strong,” he hedged.

She laughed mockingly at that. “Please. I’m the bane of your existence.”

“That would be Papillon,” he corrected. “I don’t necessarily hate you, Lila. You make me really angry sometimes, and I want to wring your neck when you hurt my friends, but, most of the time, I don’t hate you,” he explained, trying to convince her.

She cocked an eyebrow at him in suspicion, not taking his word for it.

“Most of the time, you’re an annoyance, and I resent you for being a crappy person,” he summarized. “But I don’t hate you.”

She nodded slowly, analyzing his words. “…I see…. So…how do your personal experiences with me lead you to believe that others would still fawn over me if I dropped the act and stopped telling them what they wanted to hear?”

Adrien pursed his lips as he came up with nothing.

“Mmhm.” She kept nodding. “Yeah. That’s what I thought. Well. Thanks for the suggestion, but I think I like things the way they are at present, so I’m just going to keep doing what I’m doing. Seriously, thanks, though,” she replied, voice dripping with irony.

“Doesn’t it ever get to you, though?” he pressed, showing his hand a little. “Not being able to be authentically yourself and accepted as you are by anyone?”

She tipped her head to the side, taking a slow sip of her Evian water as she pondered the earnestness of his tone. “Not really. Why? Is this a personal problem you’re having?”

He pulled the shutters down over his emotions, carefully composing his face into a neutral expression.

Like hell he was going to get into the complexities of the lies he had to tell the people he loved in order to protect them and his secret identity with Lila. She didn’t get to know how it tore him apart sometimes not being able to share aspects of his life as Adrien with Ladybug and how he longed to confide in Nino or Marinette about life as Chat Noir.

“If it were, I wouldn’t be talking about it with you,” he informed levelly keeping the ire out of his voice.

A quirky smile slowly turned up the corners of her lips as she chuckled, “Then why did you think I’d open up and be all vulnerable with you when you asked me?”

He blinked, surprised by the question.

He found himself hard pressed to answer her.

“Because you’re such a nice, sweet guy that everyone spills their guts to you?” she snickered. “Don’t try to psychoanalyze me, Adrien. I’m not a problem for you to fix, and I don’t need you to save me. I’m perfectly happy the way that I am.”

“Are you actually?” He really had to wonder. “How can you be? You don’t have any real friends…I mean…unless you count my father, and I don’t think he actually counts.”

She shrugged, unconcerned. “I don’t need friends. Friends are for mushy, weak people like you. You band together to protect yourselves because you’re stronger that way, but I don’t need other people like that. I’m tough enough to make it on my own.”

Adrien thought she was way off the mark, but it was obvious that he wouldn’t be convincing her about the benefits of friends at this time, let alone anytime soon.

“…Have you ever had friends?” he asked while she was in a divulging mood.

Even though she’d said not to analyze her, he couldn’t help but be curious. He had to believe that if he could just figure her out, he could help her stop hurting others and herself.

She paused to think for a moment, little trenches burrowing their way across her forehead as she did so. “…Maybe when I was little,” she finally answered. “I remember there were some kids around my age where we were living at the time, and we played together. I don’t remember their names. My family never stayed in one place long enough for me to really get to know anyone, so there was never any point in making friends in the way that you mean. These past three years is the longest I’ve ever been in one country, let alone one city. It’s kind of weird being stuck with the same people for so long.”

“That must have been hard, not feeling like there was any point in getting attached to anyone because you knew it wouldn’t be permanent,” he responded thoughtfully.

She rolled her eyes, balled up her napkin, and tossed it at him. “Oh, stop. I don’t need or want your pity. Stop trying to find explanations for why I am the way I am,” she commanded wearily. “I’m not some tragic romance novel antihero with deep reasons for acting the way I do. There’s no trauma for you to uncover and heal in order to make me a ‘good’ person. You don’t get to play hero this time.”

He held up his hands in surrender, backing down.

He didn’t think she was telling the truth exactly, but she was very clear about her wishes for him to drop it.

“Okay. Sorry,” he bowed out demurely, scooping the napkin she had thrown up off the floor and depositing it onto his tray with his own rubbish.

She snorted softly, crossing her arms. “Real people aren’t so black and white,” she grumbled. “We’re all grey on the inside.”

“Yeah. Maybe,” he agreed halfheartedly, still thinking that maybe there was something he could do to get through to her and make her want to change for the better.

“Give up,” she groaned, seeing the gears in his head moving. “You’re such a goody-goody. Just like Marinette. I’d say you two deserved each other if I didn’t want you for myself.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled, a faint smile coming back to his lips.

“This date is over,” she announced abruptly, sounding tired as she rose to her feet. “I didn’t come here for you to turn me into your next do-gooder project. I came here so that people would see me acting all lovey-dovey with Adrien Agreste. Since that’s not happening, you might as well take me home and go hang out with your loser friends like you wanted.”

Adrien hurriedly drained the rest of his tea and got together the rubbish to take over to the waste disposal bin.

“Sorry I’m such poor company,” he apologized, not bothering to put any feeling behind the words as he picked up her school bag to carry for her and held out his arm for her to take hold of.

“You’d better be,” she huffed, taking his arm and letting him escort her out of the restaurant to where his driver was waiting for them, parked on the street outside. “This is the worst date I’ve ever been on.”

“Have you been on many dates?” he wondered aloud without thinking.

“Plenty,” she retorted defensively. “Usually, the boys I date shower me with compliments and can’t take their eyes off of me the whole evening.”

“I must be defective,” he snickered, opening the car door for her. “Sorry. I promise I’ll do better at school tomorrow in front of our audience.”

“You’d better,” she grumbled, climbing in and crossing her arms sulkily.

Adrien made a show of walking Lila to her door and giving her a parting kiss on the cheek in case any paparazzi were watching. “See you tomorrow, Ma Fleur.”

“I’ll miss you, My Prince,” she giggled, delighting in his compliance.

He slumped in the seat as soon as he got back into the car, feeling like all of the energy had been sucked out of him. He looked up to find Victor, his bodyguard, sneaking glances at him in the rearview mirror, trying to assess whether he was okay.

“Rough day,” he sighed, summoning up a tired smile. “I’m actually supposed to be over at Marinette’s playing video games right now, though, so…you don’t think you could drive me over there, do you?”

Victor gave a grunt and turned the car in the direction of Tom and Sabine’s.

#Adrinette #Adrienette #Marichat #Lady Noir #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Adrien Agreste #Lila Rossi #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Fake Dating #Emotional Blackmail #Lila Gets Exposed #Happy Ending #Mikau's Writings #Betting Against the House

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