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sinner-as-saint · 3 years

Text

Slow Hands

Steve Rogers x Reader AU

Run-through: Tony Stark found you while on a mission one day, since then he raised you as his own daughter. Most of the Avengers knew nothing about you, because Tony was so protective over you that he kept you sheltered and cut off from most of the outside world almost all the time. The few people who knew about you were Nat and Steve. And they adored you, even though you were a whiny baby most of the time despite being a young adult. However, somewhere in his all righteous, super soldier heart, hidden in a shadowy chamber beneath all the courage, loyalty and bravery - Steve Rogers nurtured his immoral, sinful desires for you. He was a composed man, and he thought he could keep it all hidden, in complete secrecy and perhaps never let his improper feelings show. But that was until he no longer could…

Themes: fluff, smut, age gap

“Steve!” you shouted in excitement, almost running to the front door to greet your favorite super soldier.

His laughter filled the entire house as you jumped into his arms, wrapping your arms around him and gave him the tightest hug you could. “Hey doll! Happy Birthday!” He wished you, returning the same excitement you showed him.

You pulled away from the hug, smiling as big as you could. His deep, ocean blue eyes looked down at you in awe.

“Well I’m not jealous at all. Not even one bit.” A voice spoke from behind Steve.

Steve moved to the side and your face lit up again at the sight of Natasha standing there with the biggest teddy bear you had ever seen under her arm. She gave you her signature smirk and you went in for a tight hug.

“Nat! I missed you!” You whispered against her hair. She chuckled and kissed the side of your head.

She pulled away smiling, “Don’t lie, we all know you only ever miss Steve.” She teased and walked past you and Steve and further into your home.

Once she was gone, you immediately grabbed Steve’s hands and led him inside the lavish living room.

“You just turned twenty one, doll. Are you excited?” Steve asked, letting his attentive gaze roam all over you. Something about you always made his body tingle with excitement.

You looked adorable, he thought, as always. The blue dress looked perfect on you, and as much as he tried to fight the urge to look down at your chest, he couldn’t. He felt something stir inside him the more he looked at you. So he looked away.

“I don’t know. Being a grown up is scary.” You answered, mindlessly playing with Steve’s fingers as you walked into the spacious living room.

“Hey,” Steve said gently, turning his body towards you. He carefully cupped your face to make sure he has your undivided attention, “You don’t have to worry about anything. We’re all here for you.” He meant that with all his heart. “I’m here for you, I’ll keep you safe.”

You smiled up at him and went in for another bone crushing hug. “Thank you Steve.” You mumbled against his chest.

Steve kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arms around you. He could feel your body heat pressing up against him - and his mind went straight to filth. He couldn’t help it, he tried. He always tried to suppress what he felt for you and hide it beneath many, many layers but he could never truly get over you.

Steve met you for the first time just a few weeks after you turned 18. Because that’s when him and Nat finally figured out what secret Tony had been hiding for so many years. It was you; you were the perfectly hidden secret that Tony kept away from the rest of the world. The adopted, darling daughter of Tony Stark.

Tony was very much protective of you. You only ever left the house when accompanied by someone. You were very much sheltered too. Too innocent for your own good. Shortly after Steve met you he realized that you were void of all the sinful things which filled the heads of most young adults your age. You were a perfect, pure little princess who was needy and playful but also more beautiful and feminin than any woman Steve had ever met.

He was whipped, gone. You had him wrapped around your little finger and he wasn’t even complaining. He caught feelings pretty quickly for you, thinking it was nothing Steve thought he would get over it soon. But here he was now, years later and still feeling the same way.

He knew he couldn’t be with you, Tony would kill him. But at the same time, the thought of you with someone else enraged him. He couldn’t bear the thought of another man touching you like he couldn’t. Something in him flipped like a switch when it came to you; he no longer wanted to be just or brave or be the hero or the knight which saved everyone.

With you, he felt something much stronger, darker. The need to protect, the need to be territorial. To be selfish, and keep you all to himself. All his righteousness faded into sin around you. Secretly, he liked how everyone knew that he was your favorite. He liked how whenever you were being difficult, Tony would always call him for help to deal with you. He liked how even with other people around, you chose to stick to his side like his shadow.

He loved it, loved you.

“Okay honey, make a wish.” Tony spoke as soon as he finished lighting up all the candles. Twenty one of them.

You were so excited, on your tiptoes as you closed your eyes and thought of a wish and right as you bent to blow your candles, the sound of the AI alerting something urgent was heard. You looked at Steve, a little nervous, and he was by your side in less than a second.

“It’s okay, princess. It’s okay, it’s probably nothing.” He whispered, wrapping a protective arm around you while Tony and Nat were looking into what information they had just received.

And judging by the look on your dad’s face, you could tell something bad had happened somewhere in the world, and they needed him to fix it. Which meant that you would have to spend the rest of your birthday evening all alone in this big, empty house.

“You have to go to work?” You asked Tony, tears already forming at your waterline. You sounded hurt and heartbroken.

Tony walked over to you and pulled you into his arms. Steve had to hide how he hated having to let go of you, as he took a few steps back to let Tony hug you. “I’m sorry, honey. But people need help right now.” He whispered into your hair. “I have to go.”

Steve noticed that Nat was already gone, probably getting the Jet or calling the rest of the team for backup. Part of him knew that duty came first and he hated how he’d have to leave you.

You pulled away from Tony’s hug, “You’re all gonna leave me alone on my birthday?” You asked, looking so broken that Tony felt his world breaking apart. He looked past you and his eyes landed on Steve.

“No,” Tony answered, “Steve will be here keeping you company and keeping you safe until I return. Okay?” Tony knew that you loved spending time with Steve more than anything, and he knew that your mood would get a little better upon hearing that. “Right Steve?”

Steve was surprised. It’s not that the team wouldn’t be able to manage without him, but he truly wasn’t expecting this.

“Yeah. Of course,” he spoke as you turned to face him with tears in your eyes. He reached out and gently wiped a tear away. “Don’t cry princess, I’ll be here with you. Let Tony go, he’ll be back before you even know it.”

You sniffled, weighing it out. Hmm, spending time with Steve was your favorite thing to do. But that would mean having to let your dad go. You hated it when Tony went away on missions. But you also knew that this was important. This was his job as Earth’s best defender after all.

“Fine,” you mumbled, a little grumpy.

Tony gave you a kiss on the forehead and apologized and promised to make it up to you when he came back, and left.

Within the next half an hour, Tony and Nat were gone. You watched the Jet take off from your bedroom’s balcony, tears streaming down your face. You hoped and prayed that they came back home safe but you were also hurt and angry that they left you on your birthday.

You stared at the night sky until the Jet could no longer be seen, then you walked back into your room and angrily started undressing, murmuring under your breath, “Stupid, stupid, stupid! Stupid dress! Stupid cake! Stupid birthday!” you got stuck in your dress because of the zipper and that’s when you started sobbing.

Steve heard you crying and hurried his way upstairs and into your room. He found you knelt on the ground, on your soft rug, crying. Your dress was almost off but not quite, stuck around your hips, exposing your entire upper body. He pretended not to see the black, lace bodysuit you were left in. Your hair was a slight mess and the teddy bear that Nat gave you was thrown carelessly on the ground. Steve approached you with caution.

“Hey princess,” he spoke softly. Your hands covered your face but he could tell you were silently crying. “What’s wrong? Don’t you wanna go downstairs? We can have a movie night, and there’s so much cake-,”

You cut him off with a calm, yet bitter tone. “I don’t want that stupid fucking cake. I don’t want a stupid fucking party. I want my dad, and Nat.” You sniffled. “But where are they? Right, out saving the fucking world because people need them. Well I need them too.” You sniffled again. “Throw that stupid fucking cake away!” You raised your voice by the end.

“Hey!” Steve grabbed both your hands and pulled them away from your face. His heart broke at the sight of your teary eyes. “I know you’re upset, but watch your language.”

You lowered your eyes in shame. “Sorry.” You mumbled.

Steve settled down on your rug, leaning against your bed as he gently pulled you onto his lap. You happily settled on his thighs, like you had many times before. And he noticed that you didn’t seem to mind your semi nudity.

Steve placed his hands on your thighs, rubbing them gently. He reached behind your back and unzipped the dress fully so you could take it off. You tossed the dress aside and Steve watched how you purposely threw it and made sure that it landed on the teddy; Nat’s gift to you.

“That wasn’t nice.” Steve pulled your closer, praying to God that you don’t notice his erected cock pressing against you.

“I hate it.” You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and huffing in anger.

“No you don’t.” Steve fought back a chuckle. “You’re adorable when you’re angry.” The correct word would be ‘smoking hot’ but he knew he couldn’t say that out loud. But fuck did you look hot.

You glared at him through your lashes and he could no longer hold back the chuckle.

“Oh come on. There’s so much we can do.” He tried to get you in a better mood. And there was one thing which worked each time, “You want ice-cream?”

The minute he said that, your face lit up in excitement. “Yes please!” You bounced with excitement right on his lap and Steve had to fight back the urge to lean in and kiss the living hell out of you.

“Alright then,” he tried to ignore the way his body was begging for you. “Wait right here, I’ll go get you some.”

Steve walked out and was back in less than five minutes. He wondered if you had gotten dressed in the meantime but when he walked back into your room; you were just as he left you. Half naked on the floor, waiting patiently, sat on your fluffy rug.

“There you go,” as he handed you your tub of ice-cream and sat down next to you he also noticed that the teddy that Nat had given you was no longer on the floor but perfectly placed on your bed. He was right after all, you didn’t hate it. “Wanna watch a movie?” he turned to look at you and found you with a mouth full of rich, chocolate ice-cream.

You nodded.

Steve couldn’t sit still. The sounds of your moans of delight after each spoonful of ice-cream was driving him insane. And you weren’t doing it on purpose either. But he was falling apart, he could no longer maintain his calm and composure.

He had to do something to get you to stop before he loses it. “Okay now, that’s enough. You’re gonna get sick.” He took the spoon and the half-empty tub from you and you groaned.

“But-,”

“No,” he set it aside, looking at the mess you made with ice-cream all over yourself; somehow all over your lips and chin. “You’re a mess, princess.” He said, looking at you lovingly.

You felt the sudden need to get on his lap again, so you did, probably high off all the sugar. You straddled his thighs and scooted closer to him. “Clean it.” You demanded, playfully.

You caught Steve by surprise. His arms wrapped around you instinctively but he was still a little surprised by your behavior. “Okay,” he reached out and wiped the sides of your mouth with his thumb and then he got lost in your eyes and before he knew it, he began leaning in.

Your lips met his halfway, and while he was still surprised he kissed you gently; testing the waters. You kissed him back, slowly. Steve smirked through the kiss and deepened it while he gently laid you down on the fluffy rug, on your back. He hovered above you, your legs wrapped around his waist. He nibbled on your lip, tugging on it before slipping his tongue past your lips. You moaned, letting him do what he wanted.

Steve’s heart raced in his chest as he pulled away to look down into your eyes. He then saw the wild look in your eyes. Had you always looked at him with that look in your eyes?

“Hey,” he said softly, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “What’s that look for?” He couldn’t help but ask.

Your face felt really hot for a moment, then you answered, shyly, “I… I’ve always wanted to kiss you.”

Steve’s eyes widened in surprise. Then he chuckled, “Is that so?”

You nodded quickly. And Steve leaned in for another kiss; he kissed you with all he had. He had dreamt of kissing you so, so many times. But not once had he ever thought that it would be on your bedroom floor, on your pink rug.

You could feel his hunger through his kiss. Your hands gently cupped his face to pull him closer when he tried to pull away. Steve smiled and kissed you with more passion and he didn’t stop until you pulled away to take a breath.

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?” he asked, looking down at you and wondering if this was truly happening. You got shy and tried to hide your face but he wouldn’t let you. “No no, answer me princess.”

You told him the truth. “I was… scared that you didn’t… that you wouldn’t- I was scared that you wouldn’t believe me if I told you how I feel.”

It was true. Ever since you met Steve, you have had a secret crush on him which morphed into something so much more over time. No one knew, it was your little secret. Although, not so much anymore.

Steve fought the need to smirk. “And how do you feel?”

You released the lip you had in between your teeth. “Right now, tingly.”

Steve smirked. “Show me where, princess.”

You grabbed his hand, the one which gently touched your face and you guided it down till in between your legs. “Here.” You were almost breathless.

He immediately cupped your core, applying just the right amount of pressure against your throbbing clit. He chuckled before leaning in to kiss along your jaw, whispering sinfully, “Mind if I touch you?”

You let out a quiet moan, “Please…”

Steve kissed down along your neck as he gently moved your underwear aside and gently slid his fingers up and down your wet folds. You gasped the moment he slowly circled your clit. You moaned when he dragged his finger down and pushed it past your entrance. “You okay, princess?”

You nodded. “More...please,” you whined.

Steve placed his mouth back onto yours and then added another finger and started gently pumping them in and out of you.

He placed his thumb on your throbbing clit and rubbing it gently while he finger-fucked you; your wetness dripping and smearing all over his hand. You threw your head back and moaned when his fingers touched you in all the right places. Your body squirmed, your back arching off the floor as he made you feel good.

“Have you ever thought of me? While touching yourself? Hmm?” He asked and your face burned again and you whispered out your answer.

“Yes…”

He chuckled against your lips. “You dirty, dirty little girl.”

You moaned again when he sped up; his fingers stroking your walls perfectly and increasing the sweet pressure forming in between your hips.

“Are you gonna cum for me, princess?”

You nodded at his question and caught yourself grinding your hips against his hand; moaning and whimpering.

“It’s okay, princess. Let go, cum for me…”

You didn’t hear the rest of what he said. You came all over his fingers, moaning out loud in pleasure. Coming undone all over his hand as he kept pumping them in and out, getting everything he could out of you.

Steve pressed his lips to yours and kissed you like there’s no tomorrow; there was nothing gentle or innocent about the kiss anymore, just hunger and passion and pure craving. He moaned through the kiss when you slid your hands into his hair and tugged on it gently.

He couldn’t take it any longer, he had to feel you. So before you could process what was happening, Steve tore your body suit off of you like it was nothing. You gasped in surprise but before you could say anything, he diverted your attention elsewhere by kissing down your body.

“Do you know,” he kissed along your chest, “how long I’ve wanted this for?” He took one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking and teasing it with his teeth before releasing it and giving the other the same attention. “Been waiting to kiss you,” he kissed further down your body, “to touch you,” he settled in between your legs and spread them further apart, “to taste you…” you felt his warm breath and then you felt his warm tongue, parting your folds gently.

Your back arched off the rug as his tongue slowly circled your throbbing clit and licked down again, teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. You whined and whimpered; with your legs wrapped around his head, your body squirming in pleasure and your moans incessant. Your hand flew to his hair instinctively and you tugged on it as he flicked his tongue and teased your clit over and over again.

You felt your legs shaking as he teased your entrance with the tip of his tongue. His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud in pleasure.

“Steve…” you whined.

You heard him chuckle as he kissed along your inner thighs for a moment. “You’re gonna cum for me again, princess?”

You nodded, and let out a moan when he got back to eating you out. You had touched yourself before, but none of that compared to what his mouth felt like.

“Go on, cum for me again…”

You did. You came all over his mouth, shaking and moaning in pleasure under him. He looked down at you in pure adoration. “You did so good, baby.” He leaned in to kiss your lips briefly, “So good,” he mumbled against your lips.

Next thing you knew, Steve tossed his shirt off and started unbuckling his pants to free his erected cock. He couldn’t wait to just be inside of you but before he could, you got on your knees and gave him a look he couldn’t quite understand.

“What is it, baby?” he gently touched your cheek.

Your lips were swollen, and he couldn’t take your eyes off them. “I want to make you feel good too.” You mumbled, quietly, avoiding his eyes.

Steve smirked and leaned forward to kiss the side of your mouth. “You want to use that pretty little mouth and make me cum, is that it?” he sounded cocky, and his sinful words sent shivers down your body.

You nodded, shy despite your request. Steve stood up immediately; towering you with his tall and large frame as you remained on your knees in front of him. You realized that you liked it when he looked down at you.

“Go ahead princess, make me feel good.”

You inched closer to him and went ahead and unbuckled his pants and lowered it just enough to free his erected cock. You bit your lip as you looked up at him, “But I… I don’t know how…” you finished in a whisper and a nervous look in your eyes.

Steve traced your mouth with his thumb, urging you to part your lips. “Know what you do to those big lollipops you love so much?”

You nodded at his question.

“Just like that, princess. Go on,” he inched forward, pressing his tip to your lips.

You parted your lips, sticking your tongue out and licked his tip.

Judging by the way he hissed in pleasure you assumed you were doing something right and it only made you want to hear him moan even more. He inched his hips slightly forward, encouraging you to take more of him into your mouth.

“Come on, you can take it princess…”

You did. You let him into your mouth and then pulled him out, then let him in again. You watched how his face morphed into a frown as he gently slid his fingers into your hair. Steve looked down at you and smiled, you got the hang of it pretty quickly.

In no time you were bobbing your head around him. You took him in inch by inch until he hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck…” he swore under his breath again as you took him deeper into your mouth. “Your mouth feels so good, princess.”

His praise gave you a rush. You wanted more. You wanted to be good for him; good to him. You wanted to be his good little princess. So you gave him your all. You took most of his cock into your mouth and repeated your actions again and again, letting his raw taste fill your senses.

He bucked his hips forward very gently into your mouth, and loved the sight of your spit coating his cock. He moaned and growled and tugged on your hair occasionally as you pleasured him. His taste was all you could focus on; his raw taste, the occasional saltiness of his cum and the feeling of his smooth skin against your cheeks and the top of your mouth. You felt the veins of his firm cock against your tongue.

You closed your eyes to keep the newly formed tears from escaping, and you sucked his cock until he came undone all over your tongue; groaning and hissing in pleasure. You swallowed all that he gave you, licking his tip gently even after he came; wanting to get every last drop of him.

He smiled down at you, “That’s enough baby, stand up.”

Steve leaned in to kiss your face once you stood up again; along your cheek, your lips, your chin, whispering, “You did so well. I’m so proud of you, princess.”

You stood there, a faint smile on your swollen lips as you let him shower you with compliments. Steve wrapped his arms around you as he walked the two of you back until you felt the end of your bed. He pushed you down on it gently.

“I need you… bad,” he mumbled, looking down at your naked body lying there in front of him. “Will you be my good girl, baby? You’re gonna let me make you feel good?”

You nodded, lips parting as your heart raced. “Yes…” You were a bit too eager.

Steve discarded the rest of his clothes and he was on top of you in no time. He parted your legs and settled in between them. “You ready, princess? It might hurt a little bit, but it’s gonna be okay. I’m here, okay?”

You nodded quickly.

“Good girl,” he mumbled under his breath and lifted his hips to align his erected cock to your entrance. You instinctively spread your legs apart to give him more room.

You squirmed and moaned as he rubbed the tip of his cock up and down your wet folds, parting them as he circled your clit gently. You shuddered under him; whining in need. Your body was on fire, you wanted him. Bad.

With a slow, steady push, he inserted his length into you. You shuddered as you felt all of him. A strange pressure building up in between your legs as your body accommodated him inside.

“You okay, baby?” He asked, stopping halfway.

You forced your eyes open as you looked up at him, nodding, “Yeah…” You gasped as he pushed his cock further into you, your eyes closing once he was seated deep inside you. It took you sometime to get over the foreign, yet pleasurable feeling.

“Look at me.” He almost moaned, and the sound forced you to open your eyes again. “I want you to look at me while I fuck you,” he whispered a little breathlessly, looking intensely into your eyes.

Your eyes were fixed on his as he gently pulled out and pushed back into you again. You whimpered, but his kisses and soft words calmed you down. He sped up just a little, rocking his hips against yours. He stared into your eyes, speeding up into you again as he repeated his actions.

“Does that feel good? Do you like having me inside of you? Huh?” he whispered, leaning in to kiss your open mouth, shamelessly shoving his tongue past your parted lips and stroking the inside of your mouth as you nodded, or tried to.

His lips left your mouth and kissed down your face. You moaned again as he bit and licked the skin beneath your jaw, all while fucking you like his life depended on it. Passionately and gradually speeding up.

Your legs trembled as you wrapped them around his waist. The tip of his cock touched your most sensitive spots and your back arched off your bed.

“You feel so good, baby…”his voice cracked as he whimpered in your ear. You could feel your walls clench around him, and tighten around his thick member; making him swear out loud.

“Steve…” you whimpered as fucked deeper into you.

He groaned, and swore and bit down on your skin as he felt his orgasm building up nicely. “Are you close, baby? Are you gonna be my good little princess and cum all over my cock, huh?” He cooed. “Come on baby, cum for me…”

He didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out his name as you came. “Steve….”

Your body trembled under him as you came. He caught his breath, then leaned in to kiss you, repeatedly. Whispering something you couldn’t make sense of at the moment. Your mind was clouded, with lust mainly.

You weren’t sure how long it took you to calm your heartbeats and your breathing, but when you got back to your senses you were cuddling Steve, holding onto his chest. Your ear was right above his heart and his steady heartbeats calmed you down.

“You did so well, baby.” He whispered, kissing the top of your head.

You were quiet for some time, and Steve thought you had fallen asleep but then you replied, “Thank you, Steve.”

“What for?”

You smiled, turning your head to kiss his damp chest. His cologne was fading but it was still there, and you loved it. “For always making me feel safe.”

Steve smiled.

“This is gonna be our little secret though. Okay, princess?” He asked, playing with your hair and running his hand down your back.

You giggled. “I know, I won’t tell anyone.”

Steve caught the mischief in your tone. “God, you’re gonna use this against me to get all the ice-cream you want in the world, aren’t you?”

“Yup.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #captain america #avengers au #marvel

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akakeiiji · 4 years

Note

Headcanons for how the boys will react or what will they do when their S/O is sick but hides it from them? (For Tobio, Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, Iwa) please

-`,✎ Kageyama, Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima and Iwaizumi’s reaction to you hiding your fever from them

Kageyama Tobio

You would arrive at school flushed and tired, dressed in many layers but your ever so clueless boyfriend wouldn’t actually suspect anything

He’d greet you as usual and ask if you were cold or something despite the relatively warm weather

You didn’t want him to worry though so you just agreed with him and went on with your classes like normal

As the day went on though, your symptoms would start worsening

During lunchtime, you wouldn’t have the energy to leave your desk

Kageyama would go looking for you when you failed to arrive at your usual meeting place and found you fast asleep in your classroom

He’d scoff and call you a dumbass to himself but when placed his hand on your head and felt your warm temperature the small smile on his face would immediately turn into a frown

He’d shake you awake and the first thing you’d see is his concerned face

“Are you an idiot or something?”

He’d pull you up and support you as he walks you to the nurse’s office his admirers would stare at you two angrily the entire time

you can’t tell me he doesn’t have at least a few fangirls, i mean have you seen him??

He’d lecture you angrily the whole way to the infirmary

Though he’d mostly just be repeating “Dumbass!” and “You should have told me.” over and over again because he’s so worried and can’t focus on forming coherent sentences

You were sent home obviously and Kageyama would wait by your side at the infirmary the whole time till your ride came to take you home

He’d still be pouty and grumbling, upset over the fact that you forced yourself to school

But at the same time, he’d be feeding you a bit of your lunch, little by little so as to not upset your stomach

Once you were home, he’d be even more distracted and antsy during class than ever before

He wouldn't even be thinking of volleyball, just of you

HE’D SKIP PRACTICE FOR YOU

THE KAGEYAMA WILLINGLY MISSES PRACTICE FOR YOU, CAN YOU BELIEVE IT

He’d stop by the gym though and ask Sugawara or Daichi what he should get for you because he has no idea what to get sick people

He’d buy you your favorite snacks and drinks on the way to your house and spend the evening with you

He doesn’t really know what to do tbh, you’d have to instruct him on how to help you

He doesn’t get sick very often and whenever he does his sister usually takes care of him so he’s never been in the position of caring for someone else like this

But he tries his best and that’s what matters

He’s just an adorable little blueberry okay? Pls protect him

Bokuto Koutarou

Your disheveled appearance and lethargic state would literally fly over Bokuto’s head

He’s mainly focused on how happy he was to see you again, like how he always is in the morning before class

After a while though, Bokuto would notice that something was off

He’d tilt his head to the side and ask you if you were okay, concern evident in his eyes

You could already see Bokuto’s reaction if he found out how sick you actually were so you just told him you were a little tired

He’d frown and tell you not to overwork yourself, he’d then pull you into his chest to hug you in hopes that it would cheer you up or give you some energy

He’d freeze though, feeling just how high your body temperature was even through your layers of clothes

He’d pull you away and examine your face and finally realizes just how sick you were

Panic ensues

I shit you not, Bokuto would literally scoop you up in his arms and carry you all the way to the infirmary

“MAKE WAY PEOPLE, EMERGENCY HERE!”

“KOUTAROU! YOU DON’T HAVE TO CARRY ME—”

Akaashi would be walking to class and witness this scene from afar and just nope the fuck away from you two

He is literally so concerned, he knows that you just have a fever but he still can’t help but worry

He wouldn’t leave your side the entire time while waiting for your ride home, his hand never leaving yours

He’d beat himself up over the fact that he didn’t notice that something was wrong right away

He’d be in dejection mode the whole time during the rest of classes, his hair would get droopy and his little pout would never leave his lips

He’d spend most of his classes staring out of the window, sighing wistfully, thinking about you

He’d try to function normally and go to practice but Akaashi—knowing that it would be virtually impossible to pull him out of his moods this time—would send him home

He’d be moping the whole way home before an idea suddenly popped in his head, he should just visit you!!

He’d run all the way to your house, practically bouncing with anticipation

He’d be like a loyal puppy as he takes care of you, he’ll bring you literally anything you need, just name it and he’ll find it

He doesn’t care if you’re sick, he’s going to hug and kiss you all he wants

Needless to say, he ends up catching your fever as well and you two end up sick together

The volleyball team goes to visit you two after classes the next day and you two are basically just two red-nosed, lumps wrapped in blankets and heating pads

Konoha still has pictures and likes to show it to the team when they get sad

Oikawa Tooru

Good luck trying to hide your fever from him, he may not look like it but he’s hella perceptive even outside of the court

He’d wait by your lockers as usual in the mornings, probably chatting (and failing to wave off) some fangirls when you’d walk in wearing a thick sweater and wrapped in a scarf to hide your face

The small smile on his face would drop and he’d immediately be by your side, examining your face

“Tooru, what are you doing—?”

He’d place a hand on your forehead—ignoring your protests—and click his tongue, a hand coming up to rest on his hip

“What am I doing? What are you doing? You’re obviously sick.”

Dramatic brat, i love him so much

He’d grab your hand and march you all the way to the infirmary, telling you off the entire time

He’d tell you all about having to take care of your body and prioritizing your health over studies or something, as if he were such a great example of taking care of one’s body but you decided not to bring that up

He’d kind of be like a mom really as he watches the nurse take your temperature, his arms crossed and a concerned look evident on his face

You were obviously sent home not even after fifteen minutes of being in school

Oikawa would seem normal to most people, going about his day like usual but those who know him well can tell that he was bothered

His foot would be tapping rapidly the entire time during classes, his eyes always drifting to his watch to check the time

The minute that classes were dismissed, Oikawa was on his feet, bag already packed and ready, practically sprinting out of the building

“How’s my little patient doing?”

He’d refrain from kissing and hugging you though, unlike Bokuto he has some semblance of self-restraint despite wanting to do it sooo badly

He missed you a lot

Okay, fine, he gives a few kisses here and there

After taking care of you, making sure you ate and drank and stuff, Oikawa would fill you in on all the stuff you missed during classes

If you had the energy, he’d tutor you on all the lessons you missed

He’d also be the type to spoon-feed you your favorite food or soup, even if you insist that you could feed yourself he will still do it no matter what

A firm believer that laughter is the best medicine so he tries his best to keep your mood up

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Another clueless baby

He isn’t the best at reading people—especially outside of the court—so he doesn’t really notice anything wrong at first

He’d pick you up at your dorm like usual so that you could have breakfast together

You’d be visibly sluggish and flushed but he’d just assume you were tired or overworked

“Did you not get any sleep last night?”

You’d just wave him off, telling him that you were perfectly alright and that he didn’t need to worry

He would drop the subject but would make sure to keep a close eye on you

You wouldn’t eat much at all during breakfast which would just feed more to his worries

Then while you two were walking to class, you started getting lightheaded and had to lean on the wall for support

Ushijima was able to catch you as you stumbled, a deep frown on his face as he takes you to the infirmary, practically carrying you the whole way

“Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”

He immediately disregards the fact that he’s gonna be late for class and stays with you at the infirmary

It isn’t obvious but anyone who knows Ushi well can tell that he’s really concerned and worried about you

The nurse instructs him to bring you back to your dorm and head to class

He only does the latter and literally skips classes for you

You would try to get him to go back to class but this boy is stubborn, he doesn’t want to leave you alone and wants to take care of you

I say take care of you loosely, he’s just like Kageyama, he has absolutely no idea what to do

He knows he needs to get medicine, get some food and water in you and stuff but asides from that he’s clueless

He’d go to Google and you two would spend some time researching on how to properly care for someone sick

You two end up falling into a rabbit hole of weird articles and get distracted

Ushijima will make sure you never have to leave your bed except for when you need to use the bathroom, he doesn’t want you up

Most of the time would be spent in silence, you two doing your own thing because Ushijima wouldn’t want to risk catching your fever

He has to take care of his body okay? He can’t play if he’s sick so he’s probably going to wear a mask when he’s with you and will always have a bottle of rubbing alcohol with him at all times sakusa is proud

He wouldn't get upset over the fact that you hid your fever from him but he just doesn’t understand why you chose to hide it from him and force yourself to go to class

When you explain that you don’t want to miss any of your lessons and fall behind, Ushijima would just shake his head and tell you a matter a factly that you need to take care of yourself

“Your health should be your top priority, (Y/N). Next time you’re feeling unwell just tell me.”

HE CARES SO MUCH OKAY, PLEASE MY HEART

Iwaizumi Hajime

You are not going to get past Iwaizumi and you knew that so you’d try to avoid him the morning before class

Iwa has a sixth sense when it comes to these sort of things, it’s how he always knows when Oikawa is overworking himself or when his teammates are down

He’d immediately seek you out and once he sees you he can tell that you’re sick instantaneously

I feel like Iwa is an older brother and knows the symptoms when he sees them because he takes care of his siblings all the time

He’d touch your forehead, throw his blazer over you and rush you towards the infirmary

He starts lecturing you immediately, calling you an idiot for not taking care of yourself but you know he means it out of love

He’d give you a list of instructions to do when you get home, typing it rapidly on his phone at the same time making sure to send them to you in case you forget

“—drink a lot of water okay? Make sure you have a bottle by your bed. I’ll come by after classes, just text me if you need anything, I can drop by the store on the way.”

Basically Iwa is a super mom, okay? He knows just what to do for fevers, he knows the best medicines to use and the best food to eat

He may not seem like it but he is super caring also probably the most normal out of these boys

He’d check his texts after classes and as promised, would drop by the store and buy whatever you asked for along with stuff you need to deal with fevers (electrolyte drinks, meds, soup, etc.)

He’d walk into your room and immediately check your temperature and make sure you’ve already eaten and have been drinking water

He’d use more traditional home remedies to help you get better because that’s what his family always did

He’d also take out a Vicks vaporub and start slathering you in that shit

Half-Filipino Iwa? Half-Filipino Iwa.

He’d be like Ushijima and try to keep his distance from you at the same time, he doesn’t want to catch your fever

But at the same time he always finds himself back by your side, he just can’t help it

Constantly asks you if you’re okay, if you need anything, if the room is too hot

He’ll do anything to make your life a little easier and make sure you’re comfortable and resting well

His main priority is to get you up and well in no time, he doesn’t want to see you bedridden any longer

Basically Iwa is the epitome of “aggressively cares for you”

It may not be obvious but Hajime has one of the biggest hearts in the series and he deserves the literal world

i love him so much please i can literally write a whole essay about how much i love this boy

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notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

She’s Mine (Protective!Bakugou x Punk!Tattooed!Reader) feat. Erasermic

Warnings: racism, implied homophobia (not by anyone in the main cast), sexism, discrimination/discriminatory behavior, Modern!AU, Aged-Up!AU, features Bakugou’s parents, Erasermic, Kota, Eri, Mahoro, Katsuma and all of Class A defending you when insults start to fly.

Synopsis: This is not the first time you’re seeing Bakugou’s family but it is the first time you’re meeting his grandmother, who is not the best company to be around. He comes to your defense after you stand up for yourself and he had no qualms about sticking his face in the old hag’s because he’d be damned if he lets anyone talk to you like that. You’re his.

Words: 3.2k

“Y/N’s here!!!” Mitsuki called over her shoulder as she threw the front door wide open before you could even ring the doorbell.

Her son had texted her that you two were on their way and she was eager to see you. With the job and your relationship with her son, you two were busy bees and didn’t come around as often anymore.

Which is why she insisted that her stubborn son at least come around for his birthday since it only happened one day out of the year. Then he could continue doing whatever it was that he was doing.

Luckily, you were on her side and helped convince him to go just this once.

You laughed at the pitter-patter of tiny feet scampering across the cherry hardwood before dropping everything to catch the little kid that tunneled into your legs.

“Y/N!!! You’re back!!!”

Eri’s ruby red eyes sparkled with joy as she clung to your legs.

“I missed you!!!” She shouted excitedly, hugging your knees tight.

You giggled, resting a hand on top of her head. “I missed you too, munchkin.”

Bakugou snorted behind you and you were reminded of his presence. “Oi, brat. Are you going to let us in or what?”

Eri stuck her tongue out at him childishly before dashing back inside, a trick she learned from her big brother Izuku, doubling back to grab your hand and hauled you inside with her. You casted a glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend but he shrugged, giving you the go-ahead.

He would catch up to you two troublemakers later. Besides, he knew you would want to see all the kids first.

Kota, an orphan whose extended family gave him up for adoption, along with the siblings, Mahoro and Katsuma, were all under Aizawa’s guardianship.

After he adopted Eri, it sort of just snowballed until he was in too deep. He told Mic repeatedly that it wasn’t his fault that he had a soft spot for orphans.

His husband had merely shook his head with a laugh and hoisted Katsuma up higher so that he could reach the cupcakes they were going to sneak behind his back before dinner.

Mitsuki closed the door behind him as her son kicked off his shoes.

“She gets that from me.” She said proudly as she gazed lovingly at Eri. She loved having her around the house.

Since Aizawa and Mic lived relatively close, they came over often since she was feeling rather lonely with an empty nest.

Bakugou snorted. “Yeah, no shit.”

His mother glared at him for his language but didn’t reprimand him like she normally would and his eyes turned into hateful slits.

“Don’t tell me—” He started, gritting his teeth.

“They’re here.” She said with a heavy sigh.

Bakugou cursed vehemently under his breath, his brow furrowing deeply as he fought to control himself. He was banking on them not making an appearance today.

His grandparents on his dad’s side, though he adored his grandad and thought the world of him, he absolutely could not stand his grandmother.

She was racist, sexist, had limited views on literally everything and would raise hell if she didn’t get her way and she was a huge pain in his ass.

Even his own mother couldn’t stand her and that was saying something because she tolerated everyone to some degree, despite her odd love language when it came to him.

They were both shit at communicating but it had gotten better as he got older.

Now, the worst things that happened were spats here and there when they disagreed but his mother was usually good about backing off if she felt he could make the right decision for himself, which wasn’t often but it was better than none.

Bakugou strolled inside and his eyes softened for a second when he saw you playing with Mahoro, Kota sitting on your lap as Eri was climbing all over Midoriya. You four were currently playing Monopoly and Eri exclaiming in shock as she realized she was losing since the devious Kota was slowly claiming more and more property.

“Haha!!” He cackled, rubbing his hands together evilly. “You landed on the purple one!!”

“No fair!!” Eri protested. “I don’t have enough money!!!”

“Too bad!!”

“Deku-niichan.” Eri cried, her eyes watering and you nearly fell over laughing as he frantically tried to get her to stop crying.

The rest of his old class from college was already here, as per his mother’s request and Kirishima’s invitation.

Shinsou, Tsuyu, Todoroki and Iida were all near the food, the previous class rep serving drinks even though it wasn’t his job to play host.

Tokoyami was currently engaged in a conversation with his dad and as Bakugou spun around the room, he realized every last one of his old classmates had shown up.

It was fucking crowded in his house.

But the spark of joy he felt diminished the instant he saw his grandmother and he scowled, straying to your side almost protectively as her eyes burned into his back.

This.

This was why he didn’t fucking want her here. He didn’t want her to rain judgement upon the person who had won over his heart.

No way in hell.

Look, you weren’t fragile by any means. Your heart was filled with a healthy amount of self-esteem and you had built up your walls to protect yourself against people who had something to say about your many tattoos or piercings, yet you still were the kindest soul he had ever met.

It was in the way you walked and interacted with people, a genuine smile always present on your features as you gave them more respect than most would give you upon first glance.

Bakugou knew you could handle yourself but you shouldn’t have to with his own fucking relatives. That shit was messed up.

You glanced at your boyfriend out of the corner of your eye and your gaze dropped down to where his hands were clenched into fists, jaw locked tight and you sigh, softly urging Kota to get up and continue playing with Mahoro and Katsuma until you got back.

The boy grumbled but did as you asked, easily getting swept up in the competition of the game as you drifted to Bakugou’s side.

“I know that look,” You murmured into his ear, your hand covering his as you ignored the idle chatter coming from your friends and family around you. “What’s wrong?”

Bakugou clenched his teeth and debated about it for a second.

“Nothing.” He spat out eventually, choosing to deal with the old hag himself and you let him go when he stomped off, knowing that Kirishima or Kaminari would handle whatever it was that just happened if he didn’t want to talk to you about it.

Momo greeted you warmly and a smile slipped onto your face as though it had never left.

You hadn’t bothered to dress all that nice or different from your usual getup, feeling more comfortable in leather and all black that looked like you just came from a rock concert but you got the feeling that not everyone was feeling it as much as Jirou was when she came over to compliment you on your fashion taste.

Shoji and Koda each greeted you respectively and before you knew it, the catered dinner arrived and it was finally time to eat. The judging look you had been aware of from someone you didn’t recognize passing by as you brushed it off as unimportant and focused on helping Mitsuki set the table.

You clapped your hands gleefully when Eri pitched in to help, complimenting her on how well of a job she did as she finished and you beamed at her when she smiled up at you.

Of course, Aizawa needed to help her since he didn’t want her to stand on a chair and lose her balance but it was easy enough to lift her up. She wasn’t that big yet.

He had already told Mic he was dreading the day when she would grow up and have to leave home to start her own life and his husband patted him on the back sympathetically, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

They loved their children and their children absolutely adored them.

You had told them as such on more than one occasion since they got insecure that they weren’t adequate parents but you reassured them that they were perfectly imperfect.

They put their kids’ health, safety and happiness before everything else and did everything they could for them.

You wished your own parents had done that for you.

As soon as you set down the place settings for everyone and called everyone in for dinner, they flooded the huge dining table that overflowed into the living area to accommodate everyone.

Bakugou had left for a second to grab something from his old bedroom, promising to be back right away and you reassured him that you would be fine.

You were barely into helping Mic convince a stubborn Kota to take a spoonful of green beans onto his plate, Shinsou helping Aizawa with Mahoro’s vegetable serving, when a throat cleared itself loudly.

The lively chatter died all around the table died down as grey eyes pierced your own and you stiffened but held your ground.

You knew that look, you had seen it too many times.

The older woman opened her mouth and spoke.

“So, you’re my grandson’s girlfriend?” She enunciated, looking you up and down from where she was sitting at the head of the table, her hands setting down her knitting project to glare at you. “I don’t see why he’s dating you.”

The expressions of shock at her vulgar words made several of your friends angry in your defense, Iida and Todoroki trembling in anger and Mina’s eyes narrowed as she dropped her happy-go-lucky personality in favor of ripping her a new one.

But before any of them could act, she was continuing evenly.

“For someone who doesn’t know how to dress properly and looks like that, I mean, it’s already bad enough that your skin is that color, my dear, and you’ve ruined it even further with those ugly things.” She spat, unaware of the wrath she was evoking from every single person in the room.

Kaminari’s electric eyes glowed as he saw red. “Bad enough?”

“Excuse me?” Shoji seethed with unparalleled anger rising up in his chest, a rare sight for the normally calm and collected man.

Jirou, Ochako and Momo were furious at the way she was talking down to you and they shared a look amongst themselves, communicating wordlessly that this wasn’t going to be allowed to get out of hand any longer.

Kirishima was visibly shaking and even the normally shy Koda was fuming in his seat, openly glaring at the elderly woman who spewed insults at you.

A chair scraped back as Midoriya shot up but you shook your head, holding your finger up to your lips as you subtly gestured for everyone to hold back.

Aizawa’s nostrils flared from where he was covering Eri’s ears while several of his former students took care of the rest of the kids to make sure they wouldn’t hear this.

To their horror, the grandmother wasn’t even close to being done as she pointed a gnarly finger at you.

“Your job as a girl is to stay in the kitchen and attend to your husband. To even think you’re worth anything if you weren’t involved with my grandson is absurd.” She hissed at you venously, her skewed ideals rooted deeply in her beliefs and how she was raised. “You are a disgrace to even breathe the same air as someone like me.”

“Mother!!”

Bakugou’s father frantically tried to amend what had been done and Mitsuki was about to yell at her but you stopped her.

Everyone’s eyes turned on you as you took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I won’t apologize for being who I am.” You said quietly but firmly, failing to notice someone coming down the stairs and overhearing your steady words as they flowed from your lips like honey.

Not tricks. Just genuine sympathy, like you didn’t even hear her say all those horrible things to you.

It was supposed to be your boyfriend’s day and you weren’t going to ruin it for him in the same manner that she had just done.

“I understand what you’re saying, but don’t you think that we should be allowed to love who we love?”

You inclined your head slightly, allowing a sliver of the emotion you felt to slip onto your face as you glanced pointedly as Aizawa and Mic.

After you noticed her staring so openly at you, you also noticed that she would scowl whenever the two men would walk in the room and play with their kids and while you would take whatever she was going to throw at you, you weren’t going to tolerate the same for them.

They didn’t deserve that.

Holding up your arm, you inspected the ink running up and down the length of it. “As for my appearance, my style is my own. I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

There were a couple of snickers from Jirou, Kaminari, Sero and Mineta as you put her in his place and Todoroki leaned back in his seat, gazing up at you proudly as you stood your ground without firing any hate back at the old woman.

Hagakure clapped her hands jubilantly as a few cheers of agreement sounded around from the table but you had one more thing to say.

Your eyes softened. “I understand how you may feel about me, but I don’t need your acceptance. I love myself just as I am and if Katsuki ever feels differently about me and we split, then we’ll split. But please do not judge my love for him based on how you believe I should be. I am who I am and I won’t ever apologize for that.”

“And you never fucking have to.”

Bakugou strolled into the dining area, smirking at the old hag who had the nerve to look shocked at his appearance. Of course she would be so fucking disgusting to say something this horrible to you when he wasn’t within earshot.

Bitch.

Blood relations didn’t excuse behavior.

Narrowing his vermilion eyes at his grandmother, he faced her head on as he took your hand into his.

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.” He declared, tenacity and stubbornness dripping off of his tone as he snarled at his grandmother. “And if you ever speak to her like that again—”

He nodded in time to Mic and Aizawa, the men who had mentored him and taught him almost everything he knew.

“Or either of them, including the rest of these shitheads, I’ll fucking kill you.”

The veiled threat hung in the air and you squeaked as Bakugou abruptly dragged you to the front door.

“Where are you going?!” Mitsuki cried out, worried that you both were going to leave without eating anything and she was sad to think that her mother-in-law had driven you away.

Bakugou gnashed his teeth at the confused clamour that arose from his classmates. “Out!! We’ll be back later!!”

You could hardly get a word in edgewise as he dragged you all the way out to the car after barely giving you enough time to put on your shoes.

“Katsuki!! What—”

Your bewildered protests were interrupted as he whirled around and kissed you hard. You melted into his touch as his hot palms settled on your hips, pulling you flush against him. Whining softly when he pulled away, you panted as he breathed hard against you, his exhales fanning out over your face.

You were in a daze as he led you to the car, buckling you in before he got in the driver’s seat.

And he drove, taking a detour that would take him towards the countryside where there were no people, no places, just you and him.

Just how he liked it.

The painted lavenders and pale pinks of the setting sun faded to midnight black with stars twinkling high above you as you cruised around for hours before he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quietly and you immediately grabbed his hand that wasn’t currently occupied with steering.

“No!! You don’t have anything to apologize for—”

“Yes I do.”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel a fraction as he slowly explained that if he had told you earlier about what she was capable of instead of ranting to his best friend like an idiot, maybe he could’ve—

“Katuski.”

Your soft murmur brought him back down to planet Earth and you shook your head firmly.

“It’s not your fault.” You told him without wavering once as he brought the car to a stop just at the edge of the trail. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Bakugou slammed his hand against the steering wheel angrily. “Yes it fucking is!!!”

He ranted and he ranted about how he had come downstairs only to hear his own flesh and blood spitting those vile insults that you didn’t deserve at all.

You didn’t deserve it at all.

You were quiet when he finished and when his chest was heaving with the spent rage he had aired out, you asked, “Feel better?”

“Like hell I do!!!” He snapped at you, about to go off again when he noticed the bemused expression on your face. “What the fuck, dumbass?”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“Why the hell aren’t you bothered at all?” He questioned, genuinely flabbergasted.

Eyes clearing in understanding, you traced the back of his hand with your fingers. “Because it doesn’t bother me.”

At the sight of Bakugou opening his mouth, you hurried out, “I mean, do you really think someone like that gets to cut me down? Her words don’t mean anything to me.”

You hesitated and opened yourself a little bit, trusting him not to take advantage of your weakness because while her words stung in the moment, it was nothing your heart couldn’t come back from. But…

“If you were to say them, it would hurt a lot more, but I don’t think you would— eep!!”

You yelped as he dragged you over to his seat, yanking at the seatbelt that got in the way, but pulled you to his chest once he released the safety clip.

“Never.” He breathed against your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I would fucking never.”

You closed your eyes. “I know.”

There, in his car, you two stayed in a tight embrace under the stars until you it got late enough that you insisted you should go back and at least spend the rest of the time with your friends, which, if their sleeping schedules hadn’t changed since college, there was a good chance almost all of them would still be up.

So Bakugou drove you both back, his heart a little more at ease after he got to hold you close and be alone with you.

That was all he wanted.

Well… He thought to himself as he unconsciously brushed his left hand over the small velvet box that had been hastily stuffed in his pocket the second he grabbed it from his room.

That and one other thing.

465 notes · View notes

tiffdawg · 3 years

Text

Chaste | A Din Djarin x Reader Fic

Gif: @bestintheparsec

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandalorian x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2.1k

Rating: E | Warnings: NSFW - explicit sexual content, heavy petting, mutual masturbation, creampie, dity talk featuring Din’s bedroom voice. 18+ only.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who voted in my little poll yesterday! And thank you to @huliabitch for encouraging me to write this. This is just something I wrote in between final papers. I don’t want to try to fit it into the current timeline so let’s just say this is sometime in the future well after Din decides to keep the kid. No spoilers for season two. No backstory, no plot; just smut. We might need that to cope depending on how the season finale goes tomorrow...

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… . …

Chaste

Unsurprisingly, Din woke up hard. Again.

Your semi-conscious brain registered his erection pressing against even before you’d opened your eyes that morning. It sent a rush of heat straight to your core. Just as it had every morning for the past week. And despite the early hour, you knew he was awake. Gentle fingertips traced abstract shapes along your side where your shirt had bunched up in your sleep. His dizzyingly light touch sent chills across your skin, but at your contented hum, his hand slipped under the hemline.

In his tender explorations he found your breast. You shifted against him, rubbing your thighs together in a pathetic relieve the mounting pressure building within you. He groaned behind you. His fingers circled your nipple before pinching the now stiff peak. You gasped at the electric mix of pain and pleasure.

“I knew you weren’t sleeping,” Din rasped, voice still hoarse from sleeping, as he pulled you back tighter against his chest, calloused hand still cupping your tit.

“You started it,” you mumbled back. Your eyes blinked open as you looked over your shoulder at him to find him lazily smirking at you. “Good morning, my love.”

“Morning, cyar’ika,” he greeted before touching his lips to yours.

What was supposed to be a chaste kiss before the two of you reluctantly roused yourselves from bed to start the day, quickly became heated. Your lips slid against his and your tongues urgently explored each other’s mouths, seeking the familiar pleasure you’d been denying each other. Din deepened the kiss and your body yielded to his as he rolled you onto your back. You carded your fingers through his dark locks, pulling ever so slightly and eliciting quiet gasps from your partner.

Moving without thinking, your legs wrapped around his waist and you ground up against him, searching for even the slightest hint of friction where you needed it most. Spurred on by your actions, Din reached around you, his rough hand grabbing your ass to hold you in place as rolled his hips in time with yours. A matching pair of sighs resounded throughout the small room at the hint of relief.

But it still wasn’t enough. Not when you wanted each other this badly.

“Whose bright idea was it not to have sex again until we’re married?” Din asked in between messy kisses.

“Mine,” you admitted begrudgingly.

... . ...

“Will you marry me?”

Din’s words, delivered softly and without preamble, pierced your heart even before you could process the simple sentence. You flicked on your ship’s autopilot, letting your old astromech take over, and turned to him. You found him watching you carefully.

You paused to admire him and the little foundling sleeping against his chest, needing to remember everything about that moment for as long as you lived. You didn’t have to think about your answer; the two of them had stolen your heart years ago. “Yes,” you replied easily with a smile, “of course I will.”

Din beamed at you. You crossed the small cabin to perch on the armrest of his seat. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he quipped as he leaned in to kiss you, careful not to disturb the baby.

“I was wondering if you were ever going to ask.”

“I know. You’ve been patient. That’s not like you,” he teased.

“Shut up before I change my mind,” you threatened playfully even as you pressed a kiss to his temple. “How exactly does a Mandalorian marry?”

“The riduurok is a simple exchange of vows. We can...” –he swallowed hard– “we can do it right now.”

“Now?” you exclaimed. You grimaced as the baby stirred. Din adjusted his blanket and he settled down. He turned back to you with a raised brow.

You’d been through so much together. Loved each other for so long. Really, marriage vows were just a formality. Nothing would change. But it didn’t feel quite right. Something was missing.

“On my homeworld a marriage is something to celebrate. It’s kind of a big deal.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“I haven’t been back in years but I always imagined getting married at home and celebrating with my family. At the very least I always thought I’d take you home to meet them first. I guess that’s stupid,” you shook your head, trying to banish the thought. You had bigger priorities.

“No, it’s not,” Din said firmly. “I– I don’t have that. I’m glad that you do.”

“We can still say our vows in private. Just the three of us. But it would mean the world to me to share this with them.”

He nodded thoughtfully. “Then we’ll go as soon as we can.”

“Thank you,” you said around a smile before eagerly sealing your mouth to his.

He made a happy sound before speaking conspiratorially against your lips. “Let me put the kid to bed and we’ll start celebrating.”

A cold heat ran through you at the insinuation. “Shit,” you cursed.

“What’s wrong?”

“How long do you think it’ll be before we can go to my planet?”

Din shrugged. “It’ll be at least a month before we can make it to the Tashtor Sector. Why?”

“Well,” you started hesitantly, “it’s tradition for couples not to have sex once a marriage promise is made. Not until the wedding night.”

Din’s head hit the back of his seat as a long exhalation escaped him. “Anything else I should know about?” he grumbled.

“Nope,” you chirped, stifling a laugh. “I mean there’s a whole bunch of other stuff, but that’s the only thing that’s actually important.”

“Of course it is,” he grumbled with a shake of his head as he leaned forward. Except he paused just before his lips touched yours. “Am I still allowed to kiss you?”

“Yes,” you laughed. His mouth matched with yours and when you parted, he was smiling again. He rested his forehead against yours, an unbroken habit from the early days of your relationship, and you felt the weight of your new situation settle between the two of you. “Think you can last that long?” you teased.

“Can you?” he challenged with a tilt of his head.

“You couldn’t go a whole month without this pussy,” you whispered, hoping to get a rise out of him.

“I’m a Mandalorian.” He said it stoically as if that was an explanation in itself. “You’ll be begging for my cock by the end of the week, cyar’ika. Just like you were last night.”

“We’ll see about that, Mandalorian.”

... . ...

It had seemed like a good idea at the time. And a month seemed perfectly reasonable. You were wrong. It was supposed to make the night of your marriage special, but so far all it was doing was frustrating the hell out of both of you. Every night you slept next to him unable to touch him like this was fucking torture. You trailed hot, open-mouthed kisses down his neck in silent apology.

“How the fuck are we supposed to wait two more weeks?” He asked though heavy breaths, not expecting an answer. Normally, you were the wild spitfire that countered his cool demeanor, but at that moment – cheeks flushed, chest heaving, hair mussed – he looked absolutely wrecked. “I wanna bury my cock in you right now.”

“I know you do,” you panted. “I want you inside me. Want you to fill me with your cum so bad.”

“Yeah?” He fumbled with your shirt that had twisted around in your sleep before hiking up your sleep shirt. His mouth latched onto your breast so he could kiss and suck and bite your breasts, marking the tender flesh as his own as he continued to rock against you. “You want that?”

“I miss the way you make me feel so full. The way it drips out of me.” Your cunt clenched around nothing and your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you tried to control your desire. “I need it,” you whined instead.

“I know you do.” He raised his head from your chest to look at you. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re so pretty when you’re desperate for me.”

“Oh, Din,” you mewled, practically on the verge of tears.

“Are you as wet as I think you are?” He leaned back on his knees to reach a hand between your bodies. He smirked, his brows lifting in amusement, as touched you through your panties. You were drenched. “Take it off.”

“What? What are you–” You placed your hands on his broad shoulders to stop him as he repositioned himself between your legs and covered your body with his. “We shouldn’t–”

“I’m not gonna fuck you,” he said as he pulled his briefs down just enough to release his cock, hard and leaking already leaking. “But I am going to fill you. Just like you need.”

Your chest caved in and a broken, pathetic whimper escaped you at his admission. “Really?”

“Can I?” he asked, brown eyes practically beseeching you. He was always so polite even in moments like that. Even after all that time together.

Your hold on him softened, hands moving to gently cradle his face. “Please, Din.”

He helped you strip. As soon as you were exposed to him, his thick fingers teased your folds, coating them in your wetness, before wrapping around his length. His tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Ready?”

You nodded and he notched the tip of his dick at your entrance. He started pumping himself, using your slick to lubricate himself.

“Oh, fuck!” you cried when you realized what he was going to do.

The feeling of his hand moving in between your legs as he jerked himself off made your head spin. You felt filthy and you fucking liked it. You arched toward him, hips angled to take more of his dick, but he stopped you.

“No, cyare. Not this time,” he whispered against your cheek. You squeezed his tip as your cunt contracted instead, earning a delirious moan from him. “I missed this pussy.”

You could tell he was close. After weeks of hardly touching each other, it wouldn’t take much. You ran your hands down his bare chest and across his soft sides before gripping his hip, hoping to encourage him and hold in place as he neared his climax.

Eyes squeezed shut and teeth bared, he came with a shout. You felt him cum spurting inside you as he filled you. He continued to stroke himself, drawing out his orgasm as long as he could even as his spend started to leak out.

“Touch yourself for me,” Din demanded gently, placing light kisses on your face. “Wanna watch you cum.”

He pulled out and leaned back just as your hand replaced him. Watching him watch you sent a fresh wave of arousal to your center. With a devilish smile, you gathered the cum dripping out of you and swirled your fingers around your throbbing clit. Din groaned at the sight. Two strong hands gripped your thighs and spread your legs further as his eyes locked on your cunt.

Every muscle in your body seemed to tighten as you played with yourself, your own climax was right behind his. But just as you were about to cum, Din grabbed your wrist and removed your hand. The noise he made was practically a growl as he leaned down to spit on your pussy.

“Oh fuck, Din!” you shouted, body keening off the bed. When he finally released your hand, you rubbed furiously at your clit, eased by the mix of his cum and saliva.

“That’s it. Cum for me.”

Your vision blacked out before an array of stars burst behind your closed eyes as your orgasm tore through you. Pleasure clouded your mind, but you could hear yourself chanting his name like a prayer.

When you fell back against the bed, Din collapsed half on top of you, his cheek pillowed on your chest. “Fuck, that felt good,” you sighed. You wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both caught your breath. “But I think that might be considered cheating.”

“No,” he insisted, “Just... bending the rules a little.” You both laughed and he held you a little tighter. “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“So you can finally fuck me again?”

“No.” He shook his head. “So I can be your husband.” You felt him smile against your skin. “And so I can finally make love to my wife.”

... . ...

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @honeyand-roses

Story Tags: @softpedropascal @mindless--ramblings @disgruntledspacedad

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #fic: chaste

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skellebonez · 3 years

Text

Happy Birthday Winter!

Hey @winterpower98 it's your birthday! I really hope you enjoy this, I know I had a ton of fun writing it for you! Actor AU is one of my favorite AUs you've made and coming back to play around with it again was a blast and a half!

Painter MK cackled, taking the brushes filled with bright pink paint into his fists.

“Yes, yes!” He exclaimed, brushing them against his cheeks and bringing another to run up the center of his face. “The art is-OW! OW, THE ART IS IN MY EYE!”

“Cut!” The director yelled, bringing the entire film production to a halt in an instant. “Xiaotian, what happened?”

The young actor dropped the paintbrushes into the hands of a stage worker to rushed over to help him, one hand covering his right eye as he tried to keep himself from laughing. “I think some of it splashed when I waved the brush at my face. I guess the art really IS-”

“Don’t say it,” Heshang said from the other side of the set, doing his best not to join his co-star in laughter.

“-seeping into my pores!”

The entire cast and crew groaned as Xiaotian cackled again, with a few added ows, before another stage hand came by with a bottle of water.

~3…2…1~

“Uh…” Xiaojiao pulled, attempting to pull the prop sword from above her head out of the wall only to be met with… a lot more resistance than should probably be there. “UH…? It’s stuck?”

She stood, attempting to pull it out normally only to be met with just as much resistance.

“It’s stuck!” She laughed, out, bracing a foot on the wall with no change.

“Let me try,” General Ironclad, or rather Red in the costume of General Ironclad for the episode, offered, attempting to do the same with the exact same result as his co-star. “What did you use to hold this in place? Cement!?”

“It should have only been stuck in with force!” A stage hand yelled as Xiaotian and Heshang joined in, both failing to pull the sword out from the false wall and Heshang nearly toppling over backwards with his additional costume pieces.

“Whoever stuck that in there needs to be moved to making sure the safety equipment stays connected!” Xiaotian offered, watching as even more people tried to remove the sword. “That is not coming out.”

~3…2…1~

Heshang held Mo in his arms, waltzing around the set as he waited for places to be called for with the shockingly content feline in his arms.

~3…2…1~

“You are selling beautiful vegetables today?” Pigsy said, leaning over the the display to give an awkward smile to the disguised Spider Queen.

Tang looked over the produce from where he knelt, looking back up at his companion with a concerned and confused look. “Are you… a-are-PFT-FUCK.”

Everyone on set burst into laughter as Tang did, both of his fellow actors holding back from laughing themselves.

“Why is it this line!?” Tang yelled in frustration as he continued laughing. “It’s not a hard line! I wrote this line! Why do I keep laughing at the last word!?”

“Maybe if Ganglie wasn’t making goo-goo eyes at me you’d keep straight face,” Zhi-Zhu Jing managed to get out through her laughter.

“That’d be the only thing straight about me.”

~3…2…1~

Dicky Cheung, or the actual Sun Wukong disguised as a human actor in full costume of himself, took a running leap and jumped onto the counter of Pigsy’s noodles, sliding to a perfect stop with a wink toward the camera.

~3…2…1~

“MK, there’s something I wanted to tell you…” Mei said, looking at MK with sparkles in her eyes before snickering. “Stop looking at me like that, it’s hard enough to keep a straight face during this scene!”

“Sorry!” Xiaotian yelled to the camera. “I can’t help it! How are Jin and Yin this wrong about these two in the show?”

“Himbos!” was the shouted answer from Tang at the other end of the set.

~3…2…1~

“One of the rare talents that no one knew the great Sun Wukong possessed…” Xiaojiao said ominously, camera panning over to Mr. Cheung in full costume. “Surprisingly good peach juggling!”

“Gotta keep myself occupied somehow!” The actor laughed out, catching two peaches in either hand while the last one was caught perfectly in his mouth to the applause of everyone watching.

~3…2…1~

“Thanks for the Key los-AH!”

Red flung his arms wildly, key flying into the air as Tie Shan rushed forward and caught him just before he face planted into the ground.

“Mine!” Mr. Cheung yelled as he caught the key mid air and rushed through the frame.

“YOU’RE NOT EVEN IN THIS EPISODE!”

~3…2…1~

“Thank you… for giving me all o-ooh, whoa!” Lui Er Mihou, or unbeknownst to nearly all Six-Eared Macaque in disguise much the same way as Sun Wukong was, yelped as the cable that was supposed to gently raise him and make him look like he was floating yoinked him as good 4 feet off the ground way too fast. “That’s too much power!”

“SORRY!” The line operator shouted, fiddling with the controls. “Someone loaded the weight setting for Xiaotian into your line instead of yours.”

“I already feel bad enough treating him like garbage and beating him up in this role, this is just rubbing salt in the wound,” Liu Er muttered, leaning back and swinging limply much to the amusement of everyone who couldn’t hear him before raising his voice. “When will my beloved friend Sun Wukong come to rescue me?”

“SPEAK MY NAME AND I SHALL APPEAR!”

Liu Er yelped in surprise as Mr. Cheung rushed in and grabbed him from beneath to hold him bridal style with a shit eating grin. He couldn't help the flush on his cheeks in response.

“HOW DO YOU KEEP SHOWING UP IN SHOTS WHEN YOU AREN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THERE YET!?” The director yelled with more than a little amusement in his voice despite the disruption.

~3…2…1~

“You!” DBK said, rounding on Red Son. “You have brought me nothing but failure! Time and time again! I keep telling you I… shit, I can’t remember the next line when you look that sad, I am so sorry.”

“Nothing but disappointment?” Red offered helpfully, immediately breaking out of his downcast somber gaze to the floor with a wide smile.

“It is scary how fast you get in and out of character sometimes, kid,” Niu Mowang laughed out, clearly resisting the urge to ruffle the younger actor’s hair lest he ruin the styling job that took far too long every time they got dressed.

~3…2…1~

The White Bone Spirit stood at the entrance to the Silken Web Cave, looking at the camera before far too much time passed from when she was supposed to say he line. She moon walked backwards out of the frame without changing her expression one bit as the other actors devolved into cackles.

~3…2…1~

“The Year of the Spider starts tonight!” Spider Queen proclaimed from her high vantage point before she muttered something under her breathe, narrowing her gaze and then looking off to the side. “Or next year ‘cause I don’t remember my line.”

~3…2…1~

Huntsman slowly lowered into frame, upside down and gripping the rigging holding him up like Spiderman.

~3…2…1~

“Oh yeah?” Sun Wukong said, appearing in frame as he walked down the wall MK was embedded in. He grabbed his staff, yanking it out of the wall and jumped down and smacked the wall with it.

… only for it to go through the wall once again and crack it. Or, rather, the false wall that was on a tilted angle to make it look like he was talking down it, rather than a heavily slanted floor.

“I’m sorry!” Mr. Cheung yelled, looking at the damage he caused. “I must have hit at weak spot!”

He hoped no one noticed that when MK offered to get the prop staff for this shot and put it into the wall… he grabbed the real one by accident.

~3…2…1~

Nui Mowang held the little bird that was Wukong’s transformation stand in for one of the final scenes, gently petting the little head with a big goofy smile on his face.

~END~

The entire cast sat around on various travel tables right outside the small Lunar New Year Festival set they had set up, various extras that had answered the open invitation for the shoot going about and getting the free food that was available at the functional stalls provided by the catering they had hired.

It was an odd sight to see Red Son and Spider Queen and Sun Wukong and everyone else sitting around together, but Liu Er Mihou being there outside of his Macaque costume broke the illusion a little bit.

It was the final day of shooting for the season 2 opening special to Monkie Kid, Revenge of the Spider Queen, and everyone was there. Even people who didn’t have to come in wanted to give a temporary farewell to Tie Shan, Nui Mowang, and Red before season 2 proper began shooting. There was still a chance they could bebcalled in for bit roles, the scripts weren’t entirely finished yet, but as far as anyone knew the Demon Bull Family wasn’t going to be returning properly any time soon.

Maybe in season 3, Tang had teased, holding the begun scripts for that in his little tablet away from prying eyes. And they were always welcome to help out in bit roles, background characters or voice over or to use their other talents to work other jobs that were needed around the set.

But even before then it would be a while.

And so that’s how Red found himself sandwiched between Long Xiaojiao and Qi Xiaotian, with the newly added member of their quartet in her full White Bone Spirit costume hanging over his shoulder to watch the compilation that Xiaojiao had expertly edited on her phone for them all.

“The director gave me permission to use whatever I wanted and I though that… maybe we could all have it for ourselves,” Xiaojiao offered, pulling up the wireless transfer option on her phone. “To watch when we miss each other being on set together. I know we’re going to probably be back together with Red Son eventually! But…”

“I’ll miss shooting with you too,” Red said smiling softly as he pulled out his own phone to accept the file. “Hopefully Mr. Tang isn’t just teasing us about season 3.”

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #fanfic #gen fic #actor au #ensemble cast #shadowpeach #(hinted)#scheduled

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dracosathenaeum · 3 years

Text

Great Love Story | D.M.

Summary: Half requested by @dray-cookies !! You and Draco were the couple everyone expected to never break up, so why were you watching Draco look at Pansy the way he use to look at you? As if she were his world.

Warnings: smut, food, violence and swearing

Word Count: 2,241

#A/N: AU, sometime in 7th year. I don't want to solidify any details in case I ever decide to write a part 2

You watched with green in your eyes as Draco brushed Pansy’s soft strands of hair from her face before bringing his hand to rest back on the small of her back. You could still feel the weight of his hand on your back, warm and reassuring. It was almost as if you were seeing the whole scene from an outside perspective, that Pansy wasn’t real, and it was you there.

But you weren’t.

Pansy was sat in what had been your seat just the month before. You heard the whispers that followed you down every hallway and into each room, but you were just as in the dark as they were. “They would’ve never lasted” from bitter Slytherins, or “He seemed happy, they both did I wonder what went wrong.” You had wondered the same thing.

You had never thought you’d break up; you were sure you would make it til the end, that he was the one for you. Call it naïve but you had known each other longer than anyone else; you had been inseparable despite being in different houses and everyone knew how Slytherins felt about interhouse relations. He had quite literally brought you out of your shell and gave you confidence you might’ve never found yourself.

It was only natural that the two of you started dating; natural that one of those long nights studying and just enjoying each other’s company had ended in rushed and desperate kisses; as if you didn’t have all the time in the world. The school had practically fallen over their own feet talking about the two of you. You were the couple that were the centre of attention at the yule ball, the textbook couple that all others compared to, the couple that no one had ever expected to break up.

Yet it happened.

Sneaking into Draco’s room like you had done so countless times before, you hadn’t expected for him to break up with you. No warnings. No explanation.

You had left his room in a daze; your feet bringing you back to your dorm room through muscle memory alone. You allowed yourself to collapse into your friends arms the second you stepped into the room, watched as theirs mirrored the shock yours contained.

Everything had been perfect as far as you knew. You were both so happy or so you had thought. Since then he had avoided you at all costs, and the times you did see him, he’d wouldn’t even spare you a glance before turning in the other direction.

Draco was looking at Pansy with stars in his eyes, and of course he would. She was everything he could ever want. Her hair that always fell perfectly around her face, never owing a bad hair day; her make up that was light because she never needed to cover up imperfections, just enhance what she already had. And her laugh, the way she tilted her head back, hand covering her mouth as she laughed at something Draco had said, the way he stopped laughing to just admire her. That was what had well and truly broken your heart.

You had never been on bad terms with Pansy; you had a mutual friendship when you had been with Draco; in fact, she had been the one to help sneak you into the Slytherin rooms more often than not. But looking at them together you realised it was never your place to be with him, not when Pansy looked like she was made to be where she was.

You watched him look at her eat and talk to Blaise with the same eyes he used to look at you with. You were split in two; you just didn’t understand how his heart could have changed so quickly, how it was possible for someone who had spent years calling you his world to simply move on before you had even had a chance to realise what had happened.

Yet the other half knew. Pansy was everything you were but so much more. Why settle for you when he could have her?

“I still can’t believe he and y/n broke up; I mean they were the great love story, if they can’t stay together what hope do the rest of us have?” They thought you couldn’t hear; thought you were too busy talking with your friends to notice the conversations happening literally 2 seats away from you. Or perhaps they were just cruel and wanted to rub salt in the wound hoping for an explanation you couldn’t give.

“I mean he seems happy with Pansy, but it just never occurred to me he’d be with anyone else you know? I thought they were happy together, but I guess we’ll never find out since neither of them talk about it.” Grace bless her soul, threw a pumpkin pasty at the two of them. You watched as the orange coloured filling burst across their uniform staining their shirts and skin. Their heads turned towards you, mouths open ready to argue when they saw Grace with another in her hand. You simply picked up one in your own hand and shared a look with Grace before throwing it.

You found yourself in the astronomy tower most nights, after the castle had gone to sleep, when the only thing you had to worry about was being caught by Filch. You’d sit and wait for Draco to show up like he always had, waited for him to tell you it was all one big joke or misunderstanding. But he never did.

You couldn’t stop your brain whirling at 100 miles an hour whenever you were in the tower, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop going, you had spent so long in here with him; before you had even started dating. You hadn’t just lost a boyfriend but a best friend.

"If you could be reborn as anything, what would it be?"

You could still remember the feel of his calloused in your hair go still as he gave thought to what you asked. “I don’t care what I’m reborn as, as long as I have you, I could be reborn as a fucking pebble for all I care "

His voice and words were rough, but you knew his heart was soft, knew it beat and belonged to you.

So why was it that you were sat there alone at 2am whilst he was probably curled around another girls body.

Shaking your stiff limbs, you made your way back to your dorms not ready to spend yet another night alone, but you’d just have to get used to it. You couldn’t stop your mind as memories played out in your brain, memories of kissing Draco as he dragged you back to the Dungeons, the both of you stumbling over each other, giggling into the night as you tried to make it back to his rooms but instead crashing in the room of requirement once you realised you wouldn’t make it back.

A door appeared to your left, the sight of the heavy wood causing your heart to catch in your throat. You didn’t think it would appear from you reminiscing yet here it was.

Your hands tentatively pushed open the doors, knowing exactly what you find but your eyes still filled with tears when you saw the room look exactly as it had done all those times you stumbled into it.

A master bedroom, books lining the wall of the furthest wall and a window seat, one you had spent so many nights curled up with Draco reading at. You could hear the whispered proclamations of love as the wind from the window whipped around you, you could feel Draco's lips against your neck as you giggled and told him to stop distracting you from reading.

You would sit between his legs, your back to his chest and every time you had finished a page you would tilt your head, wait for him to kiss you as indication to turn the page. It was the comfortable stolen moments like that you had missed the most. If you had known, you would’ve made the most of them, treasured your time with him more; but that was why you were here wasn’t it? There was no way you could’ve known; he played the part of being in love with you too well after all.

You couldn’t stop your memories unravelling as you continued to look around; you remember the feeling of his fingers sliding up the hem of your shirt- his shirt, he had always loved seeing you in his clothes and you loved the comfort they bought you, so you found yourself in them often. You remembered the way your breath used to hitch as his fingers found their goal, rough fingers pulling flimsy lace to the side so they could reach the throbbing heat that waited for him and only him.

You remember him telling you to keep reading, to read aloud to him. So, you did, about the protagonist who was pressed against a male’s front being utterly wrecked by his fingers alone. Draco had followed your every word, his fingers mimicking the actions in the book you read until you could see stars, until you felt like you were drowning in him. You had twisted your body, trying to reach any part of him but he had kept you pressed against him to be fucked by his fingers alone; just the same as the character in the book.

You had barely been able to read the words in front of your eyes, eyes hazy with pleasure; your mind focused only on the way Draco’s fingers felt inside of you. You still remembered the line that made him still, that almost had him loose control and take you there and then. “His eyes held mine as he brought those fingers to his mouth and sucked on them. On the taste of me.” His thumb had immediately reached for your swollen clit, taking him less than three strokes for you to fall apart.

You remembered what it was like in the aftermath; remembered the way he used to hold you tight, murmuring encouragements in your ears as you shook with overstimulation. You remember the haze you felt, his lips bringing you back to reality as you had almost blacked out. You remembered the earth-shattering pleasure that you had never been able to find with your own fingers, but he had learnt to all too easily.

Your eyes caught your own reflection, pupils blown wide open with lust.

It was an oh so familiar sight for you.

Draco had loved taking you in front of mirrors, the way he could see all of you and you could see yourself fall apart on him, loved the power behind it.

Was he now doing the same to Pansy?

You shook the thoughts from your mind and turned to leave, the memories baring too much for you.

"Watch where you're going." it was as if the universe was truly against you; you had bumped straight into Draco, his arms instinctively reaching out to steady you. You didn’t waste a second to jump out of his arms, caught between wanting to jump back into them and wanting to push him down all the flights of stairs you could.

His voice has lost the natural soft tone that he had always used around you; you instead got the same sour Draco everyone else got; he was no longer yours after all.

You saw a flash of recognition in his eyes as you debated with yourself. Recognition of the way your pupils were the same as they would be all of those times he'd fucked you until you'd forgotten your own name, his own being the only word your mind was capable of remembering.

"Were you in there with someone?" It was calm. His anger. Not the rage that he'd throw at Potter or Weasley often, no this was the calm before the storm. A storm that he himself had caused.

"Would it matter if I was?" you controlled your breathing, your eyes holding steady against his though you knew he could still see in your eyes how affected you still were.

"Of course it matters. I-" he had stopped himself, chest heaving, fingernails leaving crescents in his palm.

"I'm not yours anymore Draco, you made that clear.” He said nothing but the blood dripping from his own lip as he tore the skin was indication enough, he still cared.

“I thought you were happy with me. I- I thought you loved me. What changed?" You couldn't help it as your feelings came tumbling out of your mouth. Your heart raced, this was it, he would explain himself and you could act as if the past torturous month hadn’t happened.

"Fuck whoever you want, whore yourself out for all I care. Just stay out of my way." It was like the guillotine had dropped, your emotions and expression changing instantaneously. You couldn't hide the heartbreak from your eyes, and you knew he could see it.

Your palm met his cheek harder than you thought you were capable of, "Fuck you Malfoy." You saw as his eyes flashed with something, something you didn’t recognise. But then again you didn’t recognise who stood before you now and perhaps he had seen that when you had used his given name and simply walked away.

PART 2 | PART 3

Taglist: @bbeauttyybbx @pipppaaaaalouisee @theslytherinprincessworld @fangirl-3d2y @tttyrus @scriptingslytherin @justmimithings @purpleskymalfoy @minigigglybabi @505weasleys @secretaccshh @obbrssession @whatwoulddracodo @thatoneniceslytherin @thehumanistsdiary @mariah-can-dream @futureofanthropology @ccabian @tobarmaidswhodontcount @dray-cookies @xuckduck @dreamyginny @dracofeltonmalfoy @lord-byron @inglourious-imagines @audreythehufflepuff @beiahadid @moonlightorbit @imonlyherecauseimbored @dracosgoodgirl @dreaming-about-fanfictions @goldenxreid @avengers-end-me @sad-bitch-h0ur @zhangyixingxing1 @yourenotafailureoverall @pastelpuffbar @miso-tang @pixiedustsupplyco @harry-and-draco-loves @tsukibaby @dracoswhore007 @hogwartslut @mischiefisbeingmanaged @raylovessarcasm @drxcomvlfx @dracosballs @standingandstaring @its-chickenwing-450 @iamproudtobeaslytherin @mischiefisbeingmanaged @pxroxide-prinxcesss @slytherinxraven @jinnbie @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend

those I couldn't tagged, I've striked through ❤️ (if you wanna be tagged, the link is in my bio and bottom of my masterlist!)

#draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x female reader #Draco Malfoy x reader #draco one shot #draco imagine #Draco Malfoy fanfiction #hogwarts #Draco Malfoy smut #draco smut #draco angst #Draco Malfoy angst #slytherin

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sirensmojo · 3 years

Text

"Crossroads" - Michael Gray x Reader

Warnings: Big fluff.

Summary: You visit Michael in the hospital for the first time in years after his departure from your village.

*Masterlist*

A/N: this is my first Michael Gray fic, plz take that into consideration...

“There’s a girl asking to see you, Sir.” The nurse informed Michael, “Do you accept the visit?”

“Who is it?” His eyes lifted up from the white bedsheet he was staring at, blankly.

“A certain Y/N.”

At the announcement of your name, his dull eyes lightened up, but it didn’t last. His mind suddenly got clouded with the hundreds of questions he usually was asking himself when alone.

Were you alright? Did you get out of town as you promised each other, were you still visiting his “mother” on Wednesday's afternoons, were you angry at him for leaving you?

“Yeah, let her in.” His answer was full of apprehension, making the nurse unsure of letting you in. She stayed there watching as the man shifted position, trying to get comfortable as he knew your reunion wouldn’t be easy. “I said let her in,” Michael squinted his eyes at the nurse seeing she was still there, and that’s when she got out.

He exhaled deeply, mentally preparing himself but he couldn’t escape the tremendous flow of emotions washing over him.

You were his first love, the first girl he ever saw as a woman, even if you were still quite young. He just couldn't ignore the way he felt when he used to be with you, even after all this time, even after going out with other girls, your face never left him.

“Michael.” You hesitantly entered, unsure of the fact coming in here was a good idea.

You were in town for quite long now, but never took the time to search for him. Not because you didn't care, it was the opposite.

He had never kept from you his wish to leave your little village and you thought that maybe having you in his life now wouldn't bring him anything but memories of a place he wanted to forget.

But as the time passed, you realized you couldn't get him out your mind, no matter how hard you tried. No matter what you did, it all came back to him in the end.

His smile, laugh, touch and love, you missed everything.

You knew very well the Peaky Blinders, just like every Birmingham residents, and you knew he was one of them.

You used to tease him back then about him leaving the village after burning it or something, and here you were, him being part of a gang. This couldn't fit your Michael best.

He was a very intelligent, talented, kind and good person, but you always knew that deep down, this tranquillity was hiding a darker side, a deeper meaning of who he was.

It wasn't a surprise at all for you when you heard about his new life, you were even quite happy that he could express himself and evolve in a favourable environment.

He seemed preoccupied with something but his eyebrows unknitted at the sight of your face.

Your finger waved curls were perfectly falling on each side of your head, and Michael’s eyes were falling over your olive designed dress, tassels falling right under your knees.

He always loved this green on you, and that only hit you now.

The aggressively sexy green dress you told him you would, one day, wear in the streets so everybody could be shocked and talk about how a woman should dress.

If you remembered this detail this morning you wouldn’t have come in this dress. Now, Michael was looking at you with those gleaming eyes and you knew that when his eyes will lift up to yours, you’ll find in them the same sparks behind his iris as when you were younger.

Maybe coming in here truly was a bad idea.

“Y/N,” he kept a stern face but you were reading him like a book. His hands were clammy, his jaw clenched, his shoulders tensed along with all his muscles.

You could see he was as nervous as you, and you also knew that if you could read him that easily he probably could do the same with you.

Michael was sitting on his bed straight like an “I”, and that’s only when you sat at his side that he leaned backwards on his pillows.

That idea of knowing each other despite time and distance was what helped you to breathe out the air you didn't realize you were holding, leaving your chest less heavy.

You didn’t dare to stay in his eyes, too occupied searching for your cigarettes anyway. You got one out of their case and handed it to the man that was shamelessly staring at you.

“You changed.” Were his first words, and you couldn’t blame him.

Michael grabbed the cigarette and stuck it in between his fine lips before you came lightening up the tip of it for him.

When he left you were still growing up, rough look and only wearing the elegant blue pants your mother accepted you to wear. You were obsessed with pants and used to always argue about the fact women couldn’t wear them.

“Not a bit, and you haven’t either.” You teased him. It was obvious he changed, even the way he was talking was different, and you couldn’t even imagine what else in him had changed if the external changes were that evident.

His eyes drifted to you once again, what a surprise it was for him to see you dressed up as you were with your high heels.

Men have looked at you before, but the way Michael laid eyes on you was different, you found fondness in it, perhaps love? Because after all, there was still love between you, right?

Else his chest wouldn't raise that quickly and he wouldn't flutter his eyes when you would catch him staring at you.

He chuckled and offered you a warm smile before puffing on his cig. He got lost in thoughts for a moment, doing the french inhale.

Nevertheless, Michael seemed so much more distant than what you remember. Either he was staring, either he was blanking looking into the void.

He never talked too much either, but presently his silence could kill you. You just wanted to feel his hands all over you again, but you couldn't jump on him as if your story happened yesterday.

The atmosphere tensed, “I knew you would start smoking.” You let out in a huff. “Mrs Johnson was so wrong about you, it wasn’t me corrupting you, you always had it in your blood.” You concluded, the words escaping from your mouth as you were failing to stop them.

You got a cig for yourself and Michael watched you carefully, following each of your movements as if you were to disappear in a cloud of smoke if he’d just blinked.

“No,” He clenched his jaw and shook his head as his eyes darkened, "I found it here."

"Find you?"

He nodded slightly as puffing on his cig. 'You don't ask why I'm here?" He raised a brow towards you.

"I read the news, you're a peaky boy now." You winked at him.

"It's not what you think, Y/N." He was chuckling, shaking his head to both sides.

"Well, my Micheal wearing suits and being part of a dirty business, that's what I think and that's what it is. And that's sexy." You were so concentrated imagining him in his suit you didn't realize you called him yours, but Gray noticed it, which led to his lips stretching into a smile.

"I knew you were about to tell it." He flicks his fingers, looking at you with squinting eyes.

You took advantage of that exchange to look at his face, examining each of his features and internalizing everything you missed during these years apart.

"You're sexy Michael, deal with it already." You stated outright.

You always liked that about him. He wasn’t talking much, not with his words at least, but his eyes bore enough emotions by themselves. If they could talk they would spill hundreds of words on the paper with no difficulty.

"Yeah? Well, I prefer when you tell that in other circumstances."

His words echoed in your head and you didn't know if he was making a sexual reference or if he just woke up the horny you.

You tilted your head to the side a second, puffing on your cig before the tip of your fingers instantly reached for his soft skin. You were rubbing the side of his face gently with your knuckles when you remembered something.

“I left the village over a year after you, my mother died and I just couldn’t stay there, you know.” Talking was your way of coping with the fact you were reunited with your teenage love.

“I’m sorry.” His facial expression changed, he now understood why you were here. Not that he was unhappy about your visit, but he wouldn't have thought you’d ever leave this village.

“Everything I know is there” was the answer you gave him every time he encouraged you to go to the cities to try to make a living out of clothing. London, Birmingham, whatever, as long as you would be able to be who you wanted to be, and live your passion fully.

You wanted to make clothes and Michael had always been your number one fan, solely because he was the only one to see the gorgeous dresses you were sewing, but still your number one fan.

“I’m currently working to be able to own my workshop. So everything’s fine.”

He peeked at your lips while you were doing the french inhale, but ended up staring at your lips as if they were mesmerizing him.

You ignored that as well as you ignored all the signs he still felt things for you since you came into his room.

“Michael, the reason for my visit is family. I Know you found your biological mother and all, but you got another family out there, right?” You got up and joined the table to crush your cigarette into the ashtray, a vain attempt to prepare you for what you were about to announce. “Mr Johnson’s gone... I heard he died in his own bed.”

You threw him a glance, you wanted to know what he was thinking at this moment because his face was unreadable. Even though you knew him more than he knew himself, you grew apart from each other, and here was standing in front of you, a version of Michael you did not know.

He was blankly looking at the void in front of him, fisted clenched around the sheets.

You got closer to him, putting down the ashtray on the nightstand and sat down at his side again, but this time you slipped one of your hands into his as your other one, slowly turned his head towards you, so you could look at him in the eyes.

“I’m sorry.” You muttered as you were nearing your face to his.

It’s when you felt a little squeeze on your hand that you completely dared to give yourself to him, leaning a slow kiss over his lips.

You then pulled away, but before you could go anywhere, you felt his free hand at the back of your head, pulling you closer for another kiss, this one being feverish.

Of course, he was still loving you. It couldn’t be any different.

His hand shifted from your head to your cheek, his thumb rubbing it softly. His tender fondles contrasted perfectly with the roughness of his kisses. They became needier and needier, as if he waited to do this for a long time.

You both finally let go of the other’s lips when your lungs were screaming for air, your lids directly opening into the other’s eyes.

Here we go again, that twinkling light dancing at the back of his deep blue eyes.

“Something actually changed there,” You caressed his lips with your index, “I didn’t remember your lips tasting this way, neither you being that much of a good kisser.” Your suave voice murmured inches away from him.

You were so close you could feel his warm breath against the sensitive skin of your lips.

“Well, teach me.” His voice aroused something inside of you, and you found yourself squeezing your thighs together.

PEAKY BLINDERS TAG: @retromafia

(ask me if you want to get in one of the tag lists)

#Michael Gray x Reader #Michael Gray #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine

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screamingatanemptyroom · 3 years

Text

Please Fix the Story pt 23 - Sci Fi

Here is the next part! There is at least one more part in this world. Getting really close to the end!

Masterpost Linked Here

Enjoy!

_______________________

Life moved on, and despite the growing anxiety I had after my encounter with Chris, things moved smoothly. Chris had disappeared after that night, leaving his resignation from the academy laying on his desk. Liam was busy with wedding plans, occasionally checking in to make sure I was happy with his choices.

He was honestly much more thoughtful about it than I would have been, and I was happy to have his help. My father arranged his leave and was on his way. We also heard from Liam’s parents that they were going to arrive soon as well.

When Liam received the news, he became perfectly still for a few moments. I watched him, concerned at the obvious change.

“Liam, are you okay?”

“I – I don’t know.” His eyes were unfocused, as if staring off into space. “Why… are they coming?”

“Because they’re your parents? I doubt they would miss the wedding of a royal family member, no matter how bad your relationship is.”

“Parents… it’s… all wrong.” Liam seemed to be struggling against some invisible bind. His dark blue eyes flickered, and seemed to almost glow in the shadow of the resting area we sat it.

WARNING. World destabilization detected. Attempting forced conformity… Failure… host and partner soul strength too high.

Unable to see the bright blue words hanging in the air, Liam continued speaking.

“This… isn’t right. I don’t have family." His face was becoming more certain. “It’s not my fate. All I have is…” He glanced at me, his eyes filled with pain. ��Bel..?”

WARNING! Stabilize world story immediately or face destruction and mission failure.

I reached out quickly, holding Liam’s hands in my own. “Liam, take a deep breath. Do you trust me?”

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation.

“I know it seems wrong, but for now I need you to go with the idea of having parents and family.”

“But…?”

“Trust me. “

“Okay.” He leaned back, sighing. The glowing dark blue of his eyes faded, and he closed them for a brief moment, before seemingly returning back to normal. “I trust you.”

We don’t belong here.

The uncertainty in this world grew each day. Liam, whoever Chris had become… me… we weren’t from this world. But if we deviated to much, the world could destabilize, and I could fail the mission.

I just needed to keep my head down, blend in and complete the mission.

Try not to rebel too much against the role I’d been given in this world, except the ending.

Simple, right?

_______________________

…

“We’ve talked the last few hours about our lists, now it’s your turn! What do you miss most about Chris, Alaira?”

Maybe world destabilization, mission failure and soul destruction aren’t that bad after all.

I stared at the group of young women in front me, wondering for the hundredth time in the past hour how I had been roped into this... harem support group?

Allie, Ilene and Wen stared back at me, waiting for me to answer.

“I… miss kicking his butt in mock Mech battles?” I winced as I spoke, realizing they would probably take offense at that, but to my surprise they all smiled and nodded.

“Yeah, you were a very important rival to Chris.” Ilene patted me on the back.

Allie spoke up, “He was always talking about how he wanted to beat you and have you accept him as a fellow Guardian. “

“Yeah… he… I…” Wen started to chime in, but then her face crumpled as she sobbed into her hands. “What are we supposed to do now that he’s gone?! What am I supposed to do without him?! What if he never comes back?!”

“I miss him!”

“Me too!”

Soon all three girls were crying, leaving me in uncomfortable silence in the corner.

Blend in, don’t make waves, don’t try to change things….

“I can’t live without him!” Ilene’s dramatic cry broke something within me.

SCREW THIS!

“OKAY GUYS, SHUT UP!” I stood up, placing my hands on my hips as I stared at them. “You are a group of highly intelligent, talented women in the most competitive military academy in the known universe! And you’re nothing without some guy?”

“He’s not just some….” Wen started to interrupt, but was shushed by me.

“No. No matter how much you care for him. He is a guy, and you are all your own person. You have talents, dreams and stories beyond his existence.” I turned to petite girl beside me first. “You! Wen, you’re one of the top engineering students in the program! With your skills, it would be a cinch to improve upon the current Mech design!” After all, she had ramped up Chris’s Mech in the story, surely she could do the same without him!

“And you!” I pointed at Allie. “You’re a Guardian! You're a level B one at that! That's an even higher level than Chris!”

“But I don’t have his drive…”

“You can have his drive! You can have more than his drive! He spent half his time complaining about how people didn’t take him seriously or how people were trying to force him to be a Connector. You can be TEN TIMES the Guardian Chris was!”

I ignored her startled sputterings and turned towards the dark haired girl on the other side. “And you… Ilene.”

She stared at me warily. “What about me?”

“You’re a freaking Princess! And a super talented Connector! How can that become nothing if Chris isn’t around?”

“…I thought you didn’t like me?”

“I don’t.” I answered bluntly. “You treat your brother like trash, and that’s enough for me to want to kick your teeth in.” I sighed, leaning back in my chair. “That being said, just because I hate you doesn’t mean I don’t respect you as a talented Connector. You just have a crappy personality.”

“Um… Thanks?”

“Don’t mention it.” I opened my arms. “You three have top-notch talent all gathered here in one room. What do you need Chris for?! You could be a force to be reckoned with!”

Wen jumped to her feet. “You’re right! I should design a Mech, one stronger than anyone’s ever seen.!”

“Yes!” I pumped a hand in the air.

“And I’ll fly it! I’ll terrorize the Hive until they go running back to their home planet!” Allie stood up as well.

“You’ve got it!”

Ilene joined in. “If I remember, Allie, you and I have a decent resonance match. How about we partner up?”

“Let’s do it!”

The girls high-fived each other while I watched approvingly.

“Let’s destroy the hIve!

“We’ll save humanity!”

‘...And then we’ll find Chris!”

I groaned.

They were so close… but I guess this is better than nothing.

The girls plotted the formation of a new team, surprisingly accepting the team name “Harem” (my suggestion). As they filed out, chattering excitedly, I prepared to escape this mentally exhausting group.

“Alaira, wait.” Princess Ilene stopped me before I could walk out the door.

“What is it?” I kept a neutral expression. I hadn’t been joking when I said I didn’t like her.

She hesitated. “Are you really marrying my brother?”

“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?”

“…No… it’s just…” She rubbed her face. “He’s… different. And I feel like you should know. “

Sitting back down, I crossed my legs and prepared to listen.

“Since he met you… William is a different person. He’s kinder… gentler… even goes by a different name. He’s never gone by Liam.”

That caught my attention “What was he like before?”

“Angry. Vicious. Hurt people just to watch them suffer.” Her face was blank, as if remembering things she didn’t want to. “He was so mad at the world for not allowing him to match, he spent all his time plotting to take down talented people who could.”

A villain. Was that who he was before Liam stepped in? Like how Alaira was before I took over? Or Chris before… whoever it was… took his body?

“I’m not pretending that I’m perfect, either. You’re right, I treated my brother like garbage, instead of trying to help him. I thought he was a monster. Honestly, I thought his hanging around you was some new scheme…. I was kind of hoping he would take you out so your couldn’t bother Chris…”

“So nice of you.” My tone was sarcastic

“At least I’m honest. Anyways, this doesn’t appear to be some trick… I think he’s changed… he actually seems to care about you. But I thought you should know who he was before he met you.”

“Thanks.” My tone was slightly better than before. “Don’t worry, I know exactly who I’m marrying.”

Liam. Not your villain brother.

“Good Luck.” Ilene seemed relieved, as if a burden was off of her shoulders with the confession, and hurried out.

I stood in the room alone silently for a few moments, processing.

There’s too many questions, and no answers in sight.

I left to find Liam. I missed him.

_______________________

I arrived just in time to see Liam and Alaira’s father facing off.

“She is my precious daughter.” The tall middle aged man with close cropped hair and a scowl made scarier by the scar running from his left eye to the corner of his mouth, towered over Liam. His disapproving air was evident.

“Yes.” Liam smiled and nodded, seemingly fearless.

“No man deserves to marry her.”

“Agreed.”

“So who do you think you are?” General Gladus poked Liam’s chest with a finger.

“The luckiest man alive to be able to stand in the same room as Alaira, much less stay by her side all my life.” He held out a plate in front of the angry man. “Cookies?”

“Well, you should know I don’t approve of this fast courtship…” He picked up one of the cookies and bit into it angrily. “You both are so young…” He took another bite. “And I don’t want you to hold her back…”

“I completely agree. I will do my best to support all her goals in life.” Liam handed the general another cookie as he finished the first.

“Good…” He chewed slower. “Is this chocolate? How did you get it so soft but chewy at the same time?”

“I developed the recipe. Would you like more?”

He picked up another one. “Just know this doesn’t mean I fully approve of you.”

“Of course not… Would you like some cake…”

“….”

“I also have homemade hot chocolate.”

“… As long as she likes you, I guess.” He finally muttered, his hands full of baked treats and dessert drinks.

Liam overwhelmed him with support spouse abilities. I laughed in the doorway, attracting the attention of both men.

“Anything for me?”

Liam nodded with a bright smile. “I saved you a plate.”

General Gladus cleared his throat as he saw the large platter filled with cookies.

“Don’t worry, Sir, I saved an extra plate for you.”

“… Don’t think you can bribe me.”

I raised an eyebrow. “So I can have your plate, then?”

“The hardened general clutched the plate of cookies to his chest. “Don’t you dare! The boy made them for me out of respect for his future father-in-law!”

“…” Liam and I smiled at each other.

“How is the front line… Dad?” The title felt a little rough as I spoke it. I was still acutely aware that he was Alaira’s father, not mine.

“Stable, for now.” He frowned. “Fortunately we have an elaborate defense system, to give plenty of warning. But they’ve been retreating more and more lately. The higher ups seem to think that they might be admitting defeat, but I just don’t think so. I think they’re preparing for something… big.”

He’s right.

I knew the ending of the original story. Around the time Alaira was supposed to graduate, they had attacked in the largest numbers ever seen, necessitating all senior students being recruited to help fight. Even Alaira, who was without a Connector and would have normally been left behind was brought in. They couldn’t afford to leave any powerful guardian out.

I still have a little more time, though. I can train with Liam, maybe get Wen to help upgrade our Mechs, train up some of the students… We can have a chance to really face off against the attack.

There’s still time…

“Don’t let down your guard. You’re the best general we’ve got.” I patted Alaira’s father on the shoulder.

He crushed me in a big hug. “Don’t worry, your dad will protect the galaxy! You just get married in peace.” He leaned in and whispered. “See if he can make a few more of those chocolate cookies, okay?”

“I will, Dad.” It came much more naturally this time.

I’ll protect you too. I added silently.

_______________________

As the wedding drew closer, we were notified that the king and queen were on their way. Liam ignored the news, continuing to work on seating charts and music for the ceremony.

“We have to welcome them when they arrive. They are due any minute.” I finally spoke up, slightly exasperated with his head-in-the-sand act.

“…If we have to.” His voice was cold, his dark blue eyes flickering between fear and annoyance.

I held his hand. “Don’t worry. No matter who they think you are, or what they say about you, just know that you’re my future husband. Don’t worry about anything else.”

He reached out, pulling me tightly against him. “ Thank you.”

“Just play along with them. I held his face between my hands. “You’re Liam. Not Prince William. Not their son. Not Ilene’s brother. Liam.”

WARNING. DIRECTLY CONTRADICTING STORYLINES IS FORBIDDEN.

Liam tilted his head and studied me with a worried expression. “… Are you okay?”

“Just follow my lead. Please.” I looked away from the bright blue words in annoyance and moved.

We went to meet the Royal Family, each of us nervous for different reasons.

The King and Queen looked slightly like Liam and Ilene. The king had curly dark hair, severe features, made worse by the frown as he studied Liam. The Queen had the dark blue eyes that both siblings had, and a beautiful, delicate face… but the overall sense was ruined by the terrified light in her eyes as she almost hid behind her husband.

“So this is the girl you tricked into marrying you?” The king looked at me with morbid curiosity.

Liam took a deep breath. “This is Alaira, Grade S Guardian, my resonance partner and my future wife…”

“What game are you playing, William?” His father snapped, interrupting him. “If this is some ploy to ruin General Gladus, you should stop now.”

“This isn’t…”

“You should stop this now.” The Queen squeaked out nervously at me from behind the King. “He might be my son, but you can’t trust him…”

“…”

“This wedding is a farce.” The king snapped finally. “He’s a monster.”

_______________________

“Why did you follow me?” the mournful voice called out as I entered the dark room.

“Do you want me to leave?” I looked up at the large dark blue eyes curiously, barely able to make out the large form in the darkness.

“I didn’t want you to see… didn’t want you to know…”

“Know what?”

“That I’m a monster.” The whisper was filled with so much pain it made me cry.

_______________________

BAM!

Before I fully came out of the memory, I had punched the King.

“…”

There was a moment of stunned silence from everyone present.

“You dare…!” The King finally spoke up, rubbing his red cheek with a furious expression. “I can have you executed!”

“Just try, Barry.” General Gladus walked in, his hand holding a drawn weapon. “I’ll shoot you in your precious Royal Ass, and then what are you going to lounge on while I fight your wars for you?”

"..."

The room processed his words in silence for a moment, before the king burst out angrily.

“Gladus, are you threatening me?!!”

“Oh shut up Barry. " He waved dismissively with his gun. "It wouldn’t even be the first time I’ve shot you. Probably won't be the last." You won’t arrest me, you need me to protect your country.”

“You are willing to let your precious daughter marry this… this… “ The king trailed off, glaring at Liam, who stared calmly back.

“Yes.” General Gladus shrugged “I heard the rumors. Even with the 100% match I wasn’t about to let him hurt my daughter.”

“Then why…?”

“I’ve sat down with your son, Barry. I shook his hand, looked him in the eye. I asked him the hard questions. I’ve observed him around Alaira.” The General stepped forward, placing a heavy hand on his shoulder. “I know a good man when I see one. And I see one. One who loves my daughter. Maybe you should try looking closer.”

“But he…”

“Plus he makes delicious cookies.” He muttered.

“…He what?”

I stepped forward, blocking Liam behind me. “He’s not a monster. He’s my future husband. I honestly do not care about your opinion. But if you want to try to hurt him, just know… you won’t have to wait for my father to shoot you. I’ll do it first.”

“… Control your child, Gladus.”

“She even threatens you just like me!” He reached out and placed an arm around my shoulders. “So proud.”

“…Fine. “ The King frowned “I won’t try to save you from yourself. Marry him, if you want.”

“I plan to.”

“Whatever you’re plotting, William, you better stop now.” He glared. “You might have fooled them, but you won’t fool me.”

“I don’t have to fool you.” Liam’s eyes were dark. “You mean nothing to me.”

“I’m your father.”

“I have no family. I… I can never have family.” Liam turned away.

“William…” The Queen called out softly.

“I AM NOT William.”

WARNING. World Destabilization detected!

“Come on, Liam. Let’s go.” I grabbed his hand and walked away, calling over my shoulder as we left. “You’re free to attend the wedding, but stay away from us otherwise.”

“You’ll regret this!”

I laughed at his bitter words. “Enjoy the disappointment.”

Liam and I left.

_______________________

We sat in my room, and as soon as my hand left his, he curled up, holding his arms over his head.

“I don’t feel right.”

“Liam.” I reached out and touched his back, feeling him trembling beneath me.

“Who am I? I don’t think I’m William. The things they said… the things William has done… He’s not me.”

Warning!

"He's not me... he can't be... He's not..."

WARNING! World destabilization... Bright blue words and a mechanical voice appeared again.

“SHUT UP!” I yelled, drowning out the voice. I pulled his arms down, looking straight into his dark blue eyes. “You are Liam. And you’re my partner. And tomorrow you’ll be my husband. Nothing else matters..”

“But…”

“I can’t explain things right now. I don’t even know everything right now. But I know there’s a reason we’re here together. I’ve found you, and I won’t leave you.”

He held me close, both of us kneeling on the floor. He was clutching me as if I was the only thing anchoring him. I felt lost myself. I was frustrated at my lack of answers, angry at the pain Liam was experiencing, afraid for the future ahead of us.

“Alaira… no… Bel?” He whispered. “... I love you.”

I smiled at the unfamiliar but familiar name, pressing my face against his shoulder. “I love you too, Liam.”

“Marry me tomorrow.”

“Definitely.”

“Don’t leave me behind… please.”

“I won't... No matter what.”

A long silence fell between us. Finally Liam sat back, his face slightly red. “I wish we were getting married tonight. I can’t help but feel something terrible is going to happen to prevent our wedding.”

Foreshadowing.

Ignoring the ominous word that appeared in my subconscious, I smiled reassuringly. “Nothing is going to happen…”

“ALERT! CODE LEVEL RED. PLEASE REPORT TO EMERGENCY STATIONS. ALERT!”

I sighed. “I take that back.”

We headed to the Command Level in the main Academy.

_______________________

“Dad, what’s going on?” I called out as we passed the main doors.

“Alaira…” General Gladus’ face was uncharacteristically serious. “It’s not good.”

I stood beside him, looking up at the large holographic display at the center of the command room, feeling the blood drain from my face. “The Hive.”

“They’re past our defense systems.” He slammed his fist against the table. “This doesn’t make any sense! How did an army this huge get past us without starting any alarms!”

I stared at the countless red dots on the screen, feeling lost.

This isn’t right. In the story I should have had YEARS before the Hive attacked in such large numbers. Even then they were caught immediately in the defense systems and gave the military time to prepare. How could they get past us… unless…

“Chris.”

He said he was going to end everything. Is this what he meant?

Alaira’s father was confused. “That male student who disappeared? How would he have access to defense system information?”

Chris wouldn’t… but whoever was controlling Chris might have more information.

I let it go for now. “What do we do?”

“There’s too many… and they’re headed for a defenseless planet in this system.” He hung his head. “I don’t have the manpower to defend it.”

I stepped forward, giving him a grim smile. “You’re not alone, Dad. I’ll help.”

“We! We’ll help.” Liam stood beside me. “We’re a powerful combo. You can’t afford to turn us down.”

General Gladus sighed. “Even if I recruit top senior students from the academy… the numbers we have… it’s a suicide mission.”

Warning! Mission Failure Imminent!

Your mission: Prevent destruction of the human race by the alien monster race known as The Hive.

The Hive are now attacking in large numbers. Your estimated chance of success against them in battle is 0%.

“If you’re not gonna say anything helpful, then shut up.” I growled quietly.

Liam turned towards me. “Are you okay?”

If you fail your mission, you will face soul destruction.

“It’s not like I’m swimming in options.”

You have one option.

“Who are you talking to?”

“What is it?” I whispered, holding Liam’s hand and squeezing it. I have to save him.

...

ACCEPT YOUR FATE.

...

I stared at the blue words silently for a few minutes. “Liam, what if I said we have an 100% chance of dying if we went on this mission…”

“You don’t know that…”

“...and I had a fool proof way to protect you… But we would be separated forever?”

I didn’t know what my fate was. But I did know in the deepest part of my soul one thing:

Liam was not my fate.

“I don’t plan to survive this, Liam… but if I could save you…”

“I would rather die by your side.” He didn’t hesitate.

“But…”

He grabbed my other hand, holding them both tightly. “We’ll face this together.”

_______________________

“It’s hopeless.” I whispered, holding him tightly. “What if fate is stronger than us?”

“I don’t need hope, Bel.” He leaned closer, his breath warm against my neck. “If fate is going to separate us, then we’ll destroy it.”

“Together.”

“Always.”

_______________________

I looked at the hologram, at the countless numbers of enemies that awaited us, and leaned against him with a sigh.

“Together.”

He smiled in return.

“Always.”

#writing #please fix the story #fantasy #world hopping #amnesia #the world is breaking #Getting close to the end.

168 notes · View notes

write-ur-wrongs · 3 years

Text

Be Your Man

A/N: I know I say it every time, but seriously, thank you SO MUCH for your requests, anon or otherwise. It means the world to me that you trust me with your visions. Here’s a requested fic inspired by the song “Be Your Man” by Rhys Lewis! It’s angsty and has the slightest hint of smut if you look really hard. As always, there are no physical descriptions of the reader! I hope you like it - I cried at the end lmao.

It’s not proof-read so I apologize in advance!! I really hope you like it.

_______________________________________________________

Being with the bard was, in a word, comfortable.

His connections ensured you always had a soft bed in a warm inn waiting for you at the end of the day. His reputation and acclaim afforded you a higher status among villagers, scholars, and even knights. Everyone loved his music and adored his visits. With him, you were always welcome.

With him, every day was a gift and every evening a celebration. With him, you never found yourself in harm’s way. Never felt the gnawing pull of hunger or the ache of thirst. He never left your side and you had no reason to leave his. And he loved you, he really did. He showed you everyday, through his songs, his words, his touch.

You were his sun and you were, for lack of a kinder word, comfortable.

That isn’t something you were used to, being comfortable. Your life had been tumultuous from the start and you had hardened yourself accordingly. Everything you had you’d earned as a journeying blacksmith; working whatever you could to make a sale. Now though, having access to any workshop, material, or tradesman the continent could offer, you were at the height of your craft.

But still, nothing could ever compare to the blade you forged for Geralt.

It was stunning, perfectly balanced, crafted from your best steel and iron Geralt had been gifted from the mines of Mahakam. The ornate curve of the hilt took you days to perfect and the faceted garnet you’d set within the pommel shone brilliantly with a clarity that royal houses across the continent would envy.

“It’s exceptional,” he murmured, completely in awe, while examining your work, “how you manage to make your blades look so intricate without sacrificing quality, I’ll never understand.”

You bit your smile to keep yourself from gushing as you watched him wield the sword as if it was an extension of him. And it should be, as you crafted it with him in mind.

“Whoever buys this will be one lucky bastard,” he said as he came out of a mock-parry and pirouette.

“Oh, I’m not selling it!” you said, shaking your head at him as he sheathed the weapon.

“What? Y/N this could get you four maybe five hundred Novigrad crowns! Did someone commission you for it?”

“No, no, it’s a gift.”

“Y/N you are far too generous.” He admonished, attempting to hand the sword back to you.

“Hush, it’s for you.” You say, laying your hands over his, your eyes sparkling.

Gods the way he looked at you then. The way his face softened when you laid your hands over his, how his breath hitched when you took a step towards him. Your bodies so close, eyes flitting from his hooded lids to his lips, and when you finally –

“We’re just about there, darling!” Jaskier sang, pulling you out of your reverie just as the familiar ache began pulling at your lower belly.

“Ah! Y-yes! Wonderful!”

“Well look at you, you’re blushing! Are you remembering the last time we were here?” He teased flirtatiously, giving your thigh a squeeze.

“Mm you know me well,” you lied, quickly taking his hand in yours to get it off your thigh. “How much farther, would you say? I’m starving.”

“Not too long, darling.” He said softly, glad that you were watching the forest with rapt attention, and praying the sting of your deflection wouldn’t be too obvious should you turn to meet his eyes. You didn’t turn to look at him though, and that filled the bard with both relief and immense sadness.

Jaskier wasn’t a fool, he recognized your guilt, sensed the way your heart longed for another. But every now and then, when it was just the two of you, he was sure he saw joy in your eyes. You loved him, maybe not quite as he loved you, but he was certain you loved him.

She just loves him more. He smiled at you sadly, rubbing his thumb along the back of your hand in silent resignation.

“God, I fucking love these beds!” you sighed blissfully, rolling onto your back. The pair of you had meant to get your room and then head out into the village to find work but you hadn’t been able to ignore the fire the earlier memories had ignited.

“Careful my sweet, or I’ll start to think you’re only with me for the fine accommodations.” Jaskier chanced, hoping you’d finally say the three words he so desperately wanted to hear you say, and see that you meant it.

“Ha! Shut up, Jask.” You laughed lightly, snuggling into his arms where you couldn’t catch the disappointment in his eyes, and where he couldn’t see the sadness in yours. Don’t go there, Y/N, you thought, Jask is Jask, and he loves you just fine.

“Why don’t you let me,” you whisper, peppering his neck and jaw with kisses between words, desperate to get your mind off your witcher, “show you how much I love you?”

“Aa-euhm…” Jaskier let out a breathless squeal as your hand creeped between his thighs and he let himself be lost in your touch. Maybe, he thought, good enough could be enough.

You’d given up on the idea to go out to find work long before the sun had set on the village, but that surely didn’t keep work from finding you. The pair of you had barely settled yourselves at the table when you were recognized and showered in contracts.

“Please, madam, I know it’s not the priceless blades you normally work with, but my pots and pans are in desperate need to be replaced –”

“Of course, miss Eldridge,” you interrupted the inn’s owner gently, placing a light hand over hers to calm her nerves, “it would be a pleasure to help you. I’ve recently been working with new casting molds, and it would be an honour to sell you my first.”

“Oh, my! Thank you, Y/N, thank you!”

“No, thank you – this stew is easily the best we’ve ever had! It would be a crime if you weren’t able to keep serving.”

“Oh, you’re too kind!” she laughed humbly, giving your arm a squeeze in thanks before walking back to the kitchen.

You were beaming as you watched the woman practically skip back behind the heavy wooden door.

“What? Why are you staring?” you asked Jaskier, bringing your beer up for a long sip.

“I love watching you work; you shine like the stars on a winter’s night.” He said, reaching over to hold your hand in his.

“Ugh, Jask,” you groaned, wrinkling your nose at his poetics. “You’re such a cheeseball,” you teased him lightly, as you’d done many times before, but this time something flashed in his eyes.

“Hey! I know you were never showered in compliments when you were with Geralt, but-”

“What?!” you interrupted, practically spitting out your last sip.

Jaskier merely leaned back in his seat and gave you a one-shouldered shrug. You could tell he was trying to be aloof but in the six months you’d been together, the topic of Geralt had been a like a landmine. Someone always got hurt, actually, you both ended up hurt.

“What do you mean, ‘what’? I’m not wrong here, love.”

“Look, I didn’t mean to hurt you, Jask. It was a beautiful sentiment, really! I’m just – y-you know how I am with this kind of stuff.”

“I know, dear” he said quietly, keeping his eyes on his drink.

“I adore your work,” you added, your nerves heightened by his apparent sense of calm, “I’m just not… always comfortable being the subject.”

“My expressions of love make you uncomfortable now?” he scoffed, looking up at you with big, sad eyes.

“No! No, Jask. T-that’s not what I meant!” you put your drink down and scooted closer to him to take both his hands in yours. “Jaskier, please… I love you. This is how I love, it-it’s who I am, it’s how I am. Please, I’m sorry. I’ll be your star.”

Jaskier only shook his head slowly as he looked into your eyes. “I’ve seen you in love, Y/N. I believe you love me,” he said, giving your hands a squeeze, “but you’re not in love with me.”

“That isn’t true, Jask.” You whispered, blinking back heavy tears. You held his hands so tightly now, as if afraid he’d just disappear into thin air before you.

“It is though, and that’s okay.”

“Jaskier…”

“You know, you always use my name,” he said, nodding slightly as he thought, “not always my full name, but alas.”

You opened your mouth to disagree but couldn’t bring yourself to use a pet name, and so your mouth opened and closed silently like a fish. The bard looked at you knowingly with his large, knowing eyes, full of love but still heavy with sadness.

“Jaskier,” you finally conceded, feeling yourself crumble under his heavy gaze, “what’s happening?” you asked, your voice coming out of you like a strangled whisper.

“What do you want to happen?”

“I can’t lose you too.”

“‘Too’.” He repeated flatly.

You wanted to comfort him, to correct him, but nothing was coming to you. He wasn’t wrong, and you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to him now.

“Why are we doing this now, Jask? I thought we were doing okay. I thought we were happy,” you finally managed to ask, your voice shaky.

“Look, I’m,” he tried, his own voice breaking despite himself, “I know I can’t compare with him.” He waited a beat to see if you’d interrupt him with a correction and when you didn’t, he rested his elbows on the table and leaned closer to you and took a deep breath before continuing.

“I know how you feel. How you’ve… been feeling. Y/N, Geralt is here. He walked in not long ago, and he’s sitting at the back the of bar.”

Everything went blurry. You could tell he was still talking to you it was like your ears were stuffed with cotton – everything was muffled but too loud. You were going to pass out. Or throw up. Or both. Every inch of you was screaming to turn around and look for him, but you were frozen in place like a deer who’d spotted the archer and heard the bow snap but just stood stock-still and let the arrow hit.

“Y/N,” Jaskier pulled your hands closer to him, pulling you back to reality along with them, “I made the decision that I’m okay being your second choice,” he swallowed thickly before continuing, “but now I need you to make a choice.”

You felt as though you’d just been struck. He was looking at you with too much kindness, too much understanding, too much compassion. Holding his gaze made you feel as though a knife was being twisted into your chest, but you were so afraid that if you looked away, he’d leave you.

“My dove,” he says softly as if reading your mind, “I love you and no matter what you chose I’ll be there for you, always. I just want you to be truly happy.”

You squeezed your eyes shut to keep more tears from falling, but upon feeling him get up to leave the table, your eyes shot open and you let the tears fall.

Very softy, Jaskier cradled your face in his hand and gave your forehead a lingering kiss before pulling away.

“I’m going to head upstairs… I’ll see you up there?” he whispered hopefully.

You nodded up at him wordlessly and let the tears fall as you watched him head up the stairs.

Left alone, you wrapped your arms around yourself and bit your cheek until you tasted blood to keep yourself from openly sobbing. The bustle of the inn allowed you some sense of privacy, which you appreciated, but it also exacerbated your loneliness. Letting out a shaky breath, you poured the rest of your drink into your mouth and swished it around to wash away the blood before swallowing.

Jaskier knew. All these months you thought you were the only one hurting, the only one who felt the weight of the witcher’s memory, but you were wrong. Gods were you ever wrong.

You felt terrible, and far too sober. You quickly swiped at your tear-soaked face, picked up your empty stein and turned to make your way to the bar.

But then you saw him.

He was alone, as always, wearing the thick wool cape you loved. The hood wasn’t up so you could see that his snow-white hair was a mess of knots. His eyes were fixed on his drink, so you were saved from meeting his gaze. Gods, you’ve missed him, and fuck he looked good. And tired. Your heart broke at the sight of him.

Then he looked up at you and your breath caught in your throat. His rich, golden eyes were looking straight at you… and they were vacant. He was looking through you, not at you; he didn’t remember you or care to, and your already broken heart shattered once more.

I am nothing to him, you thought somberly, exchanging your empty mug for a full one. You took a deep, shaky breath and downed your beer in one go, slamming the stein back down decisively. But I’m everything to him, maybe that will be enough.

Before heading up the stairs to where you knew the bard was waiting, you allowed yourself one last look at Geralt, only to find he wasn’t at his table anymore. Seems the fates had decided for you, your thought, letting a hollow laugh escape your lips.

The staircase wasn’t especially long, but the trip up felt unending. You took every step slowly, allowing yourself these brief moments of grief over the official loss of your witcher before you committed yourself fully to Jaskier. No more daydreams, no more longing, no more imagining his large, strong arms around you while the bard’s sinewy frame enveloped you.

You had just about convinced yourself that you’d made the right decision when you spotted him, leaning against the wall at the top of the stairs.

“G-Geralt,” you breathed, feeling yourself smile despite yourself.

“Y/N.”

“What, um, how – uh, hi,” you stuttered, needing to look up at the ceiling to keep yourself from completely melting under the burn of his gaze.

“Hm,” he hummed, taking a hesitant step towards you, “still the wordsmith I see.”

“Hilarious,” you retorted, falling effortlessly back into your habits. “I’m happy to see you’ve still got my blade,” you said, nodding to the sword behind his back.

“Of course,” he breathed, now dangerously close to you. “I take you with me everywhere.”

“You mean my blade?” you scoffed with a roll of your eyes.

“No.” he said, his eyes boring into you, sparking the flame you’d spent so long trying to tamp out. “Are you here with him?” he asked with a tilt of his head.

“You know I am.” You replied defensively, irrationally angry to hear him bring up the bard.

“How is he?”

“He’s fine,” you spat, but seeing the way Geralt’s eyes softened knowingly at you, you couldn’t help but to backpedal your aggression. “He’s Jaskier, you know? All silver linings and sunshine.”

“I’m sure,” he murmured, casting his eyes downward as he remembered his friend’s almost insufferable positively. “And you? Are you happy?”

“Geralt…” you practically groaned, crossing your arms to keep the heat radiating off of him from taking over you.

“Are you?” he insisted, reaching over to let his warm, calloused fingers ghost over your forearm. The feeling lit your body on fire and left an obvious layer of goosebumps in their wake.

He was standing so close to you know, you could smell the leather, cedar, and smoke emanating off of him, just like it always had. You could feel his breath on your face. Despite yourself, you looked up at him through your lashes. His proximity was intoxicating, inexplicably comforting.

“This is cruel… you’re being cruel…” you whispered, wiping stubborn tears away but not taking a step in any direction, unable to risk his leaving if you were to move.

“Y/N…”

“He loves me, Geralt, so much.” You insisted, almost like a mantra.

“But are you happy?” Now he was whispering. He sounded sad, his deep gravelly voice melting over you like sunlight after a frozen night.

“Geralt –” you warned, shaking your head.

“Answer me.”

“No. I-I’m not.”

“You’re not going to answer me?”

“I’m not happy.” You conceded, the truth of the statement washing over you as you heard yourself say it.

“Me either.”

You looked up at Geralt then, letting yourself take in the sight of him in full; his eyes, big and sad and fierce as ever, his brows furrowed, creating that deep crease you so desperately wanted to reach up and soothe, his mouth, his lips. You were barely inches from each other now, all you had to do was tip your chin, stand a little straighter…

He closed the gap between you then, his lips crashing into yours hungrily. You fully surrendered yourself to him, reveling in the feeling of his body against yours and you let yourself be happy, insanely, deliriously happy, for the first time in months.

***

Jaskier sat on the edge of the bed, his head in both hands, and sobbed. His broken breath echoed around the empty room, sporadically drowning out the sound of his best friend kissing the love of his life on the other side of the door.

She was never mine, he thought as sobs broke through him.

She was never mine.

71 notes · View notes

horunicorn · 3 years

Text

Oya Oya

Hewwo :3 I have written much smut but this is my first time making it public. Sorry it came out so long. Feel free to point out any mistakes.

Warnings: choking, dominance

The fusuma slammed shut behind you, rattling the shōji across the room, after he'd pushed you rather roughly into his room at the Shinsengumi dorm. You were honestly surprised the kumiko didn't fall apart.

"What the hell, Y/N?"

You curled your lip up at him defiantly. "What?"

"Don't 'what' me," he warned, pacing to and fro in front of the door, clearly agitated. Then again, the man did have a short fuse. "Who gave you permission to hang with the Yorozuya bastard? Is that what you do behind my back?"

His accusation flipped your entire mood over. You were cheeky before; now you were pissed. What right did he have to point fingers at you? After all, he was the one who pushed you to do it. For three weeks, you had been patient while he worked. Of course, since he lived where he worked, it seemed like he was never free, always balancing his vice commander duties in and out of the headquarters. He did ask for your permission before going on cases, to make sure that you were okay with him doing overtime on certain days. And you always assured him that you would wait for him, no matter how busy some days could get. You always told him that it was okay to put his job first when he needed to. But that didn't mean he could take advantage of your understanding, did it?

The guy was smarter than most; he picked up on hints and cues effortlessly, especially if they were from you. So why had he been so oblivious to your subtle advances these past weeks?

"Who are you to tell me who I can or cannot be friends with?" you snapped back, temper flaring.

"You know very well who I am and what I can and cannot do," he answered, a little condescendingly.

"Yeah, well, you should also know that Gin-san gives me way more attention than you do," you uttered rashly. It was how you felt on the inside. After so many days of neglect by Hijikata, Gintoki's friendly affection towards you had you hooked in like fish to bait. Every smile and head smack he gave you fed your growing hunger for a man you couldn't get to and yet you still went on with it. You hung around Gintoki, longing for Hijikata, for something physical, just to take away the ache of missing the vice commander.

"What did you say?" Hijikata's tight voice betrayed the anger that was sparking inside him. The thought of you just being in Gintoki's presence was enough to provoke him. Confirmation that you let him touch you - nevermind if it was just playful shoves or shoulder bumping - flooded his vision with red. "You let him touch you?"

You scoffed at his ridiculous jealousy. "I'm not a slut. All Gin-san did was listen to me when I was alone. He kept me company."

True, you worked eight hours a day but the tiredness didn't mean that you didn't want to talk late into the night.

"Company, huh?" Hijikata crossed the room to stand in front of you so fast that you had to double check the spot he was previously at, just to be sure. He was a head taller than you. Now that he was all riled up, his presence was intimidating, especially since you had to look up to meet his eyes. "It just had to be him?"

You knew better. If you let him go on, you would have angry make up sex in seconds. This was a matter that needed talking through, not blind fucking. You pushed him away harshly, much to his surprise.

"We're not in a movie, Hijikata." Ah, using his family name when you were alone was never a good sign. "You can't just fuck me and be done with it."

A thought crossed your mind. Maybe it wasn't that he was busy. Maybe it was you who had done things wrongly. If you hadn't dropped all those stupid hints and just came straight forward with your needs, you needn't have had to feel the pain of ignorance from him. Your low self-esteem came racing back to you.

It was my fault. I didn't talk to him.

"I'm sorry," you choked out, turning away from him. Your sudden change in demeanor startled him but it wasn't something he hadn't experienced before.

Just like that, his anger melted away. He stepped towards you, pulling your reluctant form into his arms.

"You shouldn't have to apologize for anything," Hijikata sighed, one hand carefully cupping the back of your head. When his temper wasn't in the way, he saw things much clearer. "It was wrong of me to accuse you like that, especially since I know how much I've been neglecting you. I just didn't like the fact that of all the people to go to attention for, it was him." Hijikata said him with visible distaste. You relaxed against him, calmer now that he was no longer angry, that he had assured you it was not your fault.

"But I like him," you protested.

"Could you not like anyone else?"

"You hate everyone else, except the gorilla and he's infatuated with Otae-chan."

"Are you saying you'd go to Kondo-san if you could?" Hijikata teased, instantly lightening the atmosphere.

With that you ducked out of his embrace. "Please. I don't do stalkers." Hijikata was quick to catch you again though, this time from behind. He placed a gentle kiss to the shell of your ear.

"If you hadn't gotten caught today," he began, "I would have shown my appreciation for your patience in a different way."

"You have something planned?" you asked excitedly, happy that he had been thinking of you too.

"I did," he confirmed in the past tense. "But I can't get Yorozuya's stupid smug face out of my mind."

You knew all too well why. You knew that hanging out with Gintoki came with a punishment if you were caught. Before you could respond, Hijikata had a hand locked around your neck, with pressure not enough to choke but just enough that made swallowing difficult.

"Sometimes I think you let yourself get caught on purpose," he went on in a low voice, free hand travelling down your left arm and tugging it behind your back. He had you in a hold you didn't have any intention of breaking out of. Indeed, just the feeling of his hand on your throat had you weak at the knees, ready to be ruined by him.

"T - Tōshi," you managed, voice strangled by the hand on your windpipe. "Hard to... breathe."

"But you like this, don't you?" He purred. "You want to be choked like the little slut you are."

Oh, there was no denying how much his words were turning you on. Getting choked with his hand was good. Getting choked on his cock was better and you were more than eager for it.

"Choke... me with... your...cock..." Earlier misgivings forgotten, you wanted nothing more than for him to use you. It was all you had wanted since using Gintoki as a filler. His attention.

"Mm, I don't think so, baby girl," he murmured, finally releasing you from his hold only to take your hand and drag you down onto his futon. "I want to give, not take. And I expect thanks."

Translation: I will fuck you senseless and you will be vocal about it.

"Dont you think you can punish me better if - " Your question was cut short by a gasping inhale. Hijikata had somehow managed to loosen the knots of the date-jime that held your nagajuban and kimono together amidst everything and was now shamelessly pushing his fingers between your damp labia, hand disappearing in the folds of the cloth. Immediately, your hips moved up, asking for more when he'd barely begun. He murmured an amused "oya oya" upon finding the absence of underwear on you.

"I think you've been wetter than this, haven't you?" Deviously, Hijikata poked two fingers into your hole without any warning. There hadn't been much foreplay but could you really complain when you were swallowing his fingers like the greedy whore you were? He pulled his fingers out along with your arousal and spread it over your clit, rubbing in tantalizing circles, like a taunt.

"You're going to tease me," you stated, breathless already.

"Just for now," he promised, the sensitive nub slipping between his pointer finger and middle finger. Your nerve endings fired, sending thick coils of pleasure up your body. Again, your hips moved up.

Hijikata chose that moment to take his hands off of you. He sat back on his heels, hands placed perfectly on his lap. Disheveled and disgruntled, you forced your pleasure-weak body into motion, sitting up with your kimono loose around you, one side sliding down to bare a shoulder.

This was no dream: your body had flaws everywhere. Beauty marks on your skin, scars from being clumsy, skin that wasn't silky smooth or creamy white. You felt very small when you walked past some women on the streets but Hijikata always made you feel perfect. He loved every one of your imperfections, which encouraged you at times like these.

"Frustrated?" he smirked and you wondered just what he was playing at. Unbothered, you knee-walked closer, until you were parked right in front of him. Your hands grasped at the lapels of his uniform jacket. The familiar musk of cigarette smoke wafted up your nostrils, further turning you on. His gaze was hot on you; you could feel it despite not looking at him. Deliberate in your movements, you pushed the jacket off then proceeded to unbutton his vest and undo the knot of the white scarf around his neck. You were busy working on his shirt when he caught your hand, bringing it up to his mouth.

The contact of the softness of his lips against your skin made your thoughts fuzzy. His stare lingered on you and your restraint broke. You crashed your lips into his, claiming your pleasure, trying to pacify your desire for him. He indulged you, using a hand to hold your head steady. You kissed and kissed until there was no more breath to breathe between the both of you.

Hijikata pulled back first, dragging a thumb across your lower lip. It was such an intimate move, hinting at the lust he had for you; that was all it took for you to go into full 'I need you now' mode. Impatient, you shoved him back and shimmied up his body, brazenly rocking your hips, smearing your arousal onto his white shirt. Obviously, he felt your dampness through the material and gripped your hips to stop you from moving. The sight of you grinding above him was too much for his already tortured mind. Everything had to go. Now.

Soon you were balancing above him, the tip of his hard cock pressing at your slick entrance. You braced your hands on his broad chest, breath controlled as you slowly sat down on him, the length of him sliding into you inch by inch until your ass touched his lap. The sensation of him in you never failed to make you moan. His girth, his length, everything was just enough to fill up your tight hole.

"My sweet girl," Hijikata murmured, eyes half lidded. "I'd nearly forgotten how good you feel around me." He held onto your hips. "Move for me."

At his demand, you lifted yourself off and back down again, whimpering at the discomfort. Yeah, he was definitely big. Without your weekly routine, your body needed time to get used to him again. It didn't take long, though. Hijikata's soft encouragement and touch had you thirsting for more in no time. You got used to the stretch, gaining momentum and confidence as you moved. No longer did it sting; there was nothing but pleasure with the way you had him sliding in and out of you. Every time you rose left his cock slicker than before, layer upon layer of your arousal coating him.

When your legs got tired, you resorted to bouncing, biting your lip when your ass slapped against his skin in the sexiest way. Hijikata was in awe beneath you. His blue eyes were dark, lips parted in heavy breaths. First his eyes fixed on the way he was entering you, on the way your sweet pussy just swallowed his cock. His rough hands roved up your stomach, fingers dancing over your jumping breasts. That was the second thing he stared at. The soft mounds of flesh on your chest that bounced along with you made his cock twitch. Then he looked at your face. At the way you bit your lip, the pleasure in your expression. Suddenly he wanted nothing more than to dominate you.

The feeling swept over him. Having you on top was incredible, especially since he knew you could control the depth and angle of his entrance. But he needed to have you his way. He couldn't yet explain why.

You cried out in surprise when he sat up abruptly, forcing you to remain still on his lap. You pressed your chest to his, feeling him move along with you, in you. The movement brought on a whole new sensation that made you scratch his chest with a low moan.

"Can he do that?" Hijikata asked, voice thick with lust. And something else. He knew now why he needed dominance over you.

"Who - What?" You couldn't register his words and the meaning behind them at first, not until he flipped you both over in a practiced move and he rolled his hips into you, hitting every unclaimed spot within you. Your legs came around his hips.

"Can that silver haired idiot do this? Make you feel this good?" He pulled back slightly, only to plunge back into you with a jolt that pushed another moan from your mouth.

"N - No. Tōshi..."

Hijikata pulled at your hips, angling your lower body upwards and began thrusting into you, going deep and hard each time. He knew very well that at this angle, each slide of his cock was sure to brush your g-spot. And each time his pelvis met yours, the head of his throbbing cock would carass the tip of your cervix, making you buck your hips even further up.

Seeing you this way only fuelled his unneeded jealousy for a rival that was hardly a threat.

"I bet he can't," he agreed gruffly. "He doesn't know your body, does he? Doesn't know how my baby girl likes it. Tell me." Hijikata drove deep, pushing his own hips up. You choked on a moan, hands tight around his wrists. "Who's making you feel good?"

You were unable to answer, eyes in danger of closing, body on the brink of orgasm. As if fucking him wasn't hot enough. No, jealous Hijikata was even better. His need to hear your verbal confirmation of just how good he could drill you was heightening the entire experience.

Hijikata wrapped a big hand around your throat, forcing you to meet his steely gaze.

"Who?" he demanded.

A lone tear rolled down your cheek and you knew once you opened your mouth, you'd be begging. "Y - You, Tōshi. You're making me feel good. Fucking my pussy so good."

He smirked in satisfaction. There was no need to hold back now. With demonic speed, probably living up to his title, Hijikata slammed into you, hips snapping back and forth furiously. He hadn't even gotten to rub your clit yet and you came undone, pulsing around his cock, sinful moans falling from your mouth along with his name.

"One more time," he urged, tempted to stop and savour the way you were contracting around him. Snug in your warm wetness. He was close. Too close to stop. He spit on your clit and rubbed it in tight circles, coaxing yet another orgasm out of you. This was too much after the first and his name left you in screams, your body spasming, legs jerking. The sight of you being ruined by him did it. A few more thrusts and he fell on top of you, hugging your trembling body close as waves of pleasure crashed over him. He bit your shoulder, hard, enjoying the feeling of his seed leaving him and filling you. The others might not be at the sleeping quarters but you doubted that your screams hadn't reached the main block.

Once you both felt calm enough to move, Hijikata carefully extracted himself from you, using his scarf to wipe off any semen that came leaking out of you. You laid your head on his clammy chest.

"I'd never cheat," you said blatantly.

Hijikata pushed a hand through your messy hair, staring up at the ceiling. "I know. I just... wish I could have been there for you. I know it's not fair, having to always put up with my work."

"You're here now." You turned your head to smile up at him and he returned it with one of his own rare ones. The kind that took your breath away and reminded you of how different he could be around you. "Won't the others be looking for you?"

"Let them," he sighed. "I've been long overdue for a day off anyway." There was a brief pause, as though he were thinking things over. "Can I take you out?"

Your heart skipped a beat, delighted that you both could finally spend quality time together. Not that mindless fucking wasn't fun but normal couple stuff had to come in somewhere.

You smoothed your hand over the skin on his chest, loving how only you were allowed to touch him this way. "Yeah, you can."

#gintama #gintama smut #hijikata toushirou #hijikata x reader #smut #dominance #fanfic #gintama hijikata #shinsengumi #toshi x reader #hijikata #lemon #oneshot #gintama oneshots

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mypersonmyg · 3 years

Text

The Misery Chick | MYG

thank you to my favorite @kimtaehyunq for the wonderful banner, ily you talented cutie <3

pairing: Yoongi x reader

genre: fluff, a lil tiny bit of angst, college au

wc: 5.2k (issa short one)

warnings: language

summary: maybe yoongi has a fat crush on you OR he notices, that’s all

a/n: happy birthday to the one and only min yoongi! i am so so fond of him and i couldn’t not write something for him, so I hope you enjoy :D and as always feel free to send in drabble requests for the fic and blah blah blah...

honorary tag: @gukssunshine

masterlist

To wonder about the quickened stride of the beating appendage in Yoongi’s chest, would be to question the routine catch of gaze to the lone figure at the far end of the classroom, dwarfed by cuddled fabric, consumed with the rapid turn of the lengthy page. His arm rests atop the desk’s surface, supporting the chin that minutely dips with your every flicker of expression, the parting of your lips in gasp mimed by his own. His eyes are glazed under bright light, lids threatening to blink, the passage of time too fast, but oh so slow.

Yoongi’s knowledge is second hand, rumblings of your demeanor spread through the vine of dialogue that floats coincidentally through his ears to connect with the edges of his brain, chewed and regurgitated without second thought. He holds his refusal to high regard, refusal to believe that you’re nothing more than a student, disgruntled by circumstance. It’s not simple attraction that guides his mind to the eye of logic, the region of reason, though it was the peak of initial interest.

He notices, and that’s all.

He notices the round of your puffed cheeks that follows a particularly surprising piece of narrative. He notices the seat left empty between you and the wall, open but not a forced invitation, and he notices the way your posture straightens when someone grazes a hair too close. He notices the deflation of your shoulders when you’re left without pair during lessons framed with the inopportunity of interaction forced to simulate the false reality of reality itself. He notices the things others are blind to in their half squint, though the picture is still blurred like the edges of a polaroid.

The numbness of his wrist, angled by the rest of his chin, draws him from captivation despite motivation to outlast the congregation huddle before you, their fronts focused toward him, his view obscured by obligation of association. His lips form the curvature of amiability necessary for pleasantry, neck craning to the defense of blue jeans offending his locked gaze.

“Can you stop staring so hard? She’s gonna eat you alive,” Hoseok’s finger nudges at the round of Yoongi’s jaw, urging his attention completely away from his person of interest.

“Fuck off, you don’t even know her.”

“Neither do you, despite your dedication to staring holes into her side every chance you get. They don’t call her ‘the misery chick’ for nothing, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her smile.” The jab rubs the wrong direction, Yoongi’s hand landing with a thud to the thick of Hoseok’s skull. “Come on, it’s a joke.”

“Maybe to you, and to everyone else, but she is a person. You guys just don’t look beyond what you wanna see because then she’s more than just a good laugh.” Every utterance of the moniker draws is lips to a downward twitch, fists balling in the pocket of his hoodie or scraping at the fabric of stressed jeans. It’s knowing that if he’s heard it you have ten fold, the thought harboring the wish that he could fold you inward, close to the beat of his chest to shield from the displeasure of words half baked with stupidity and the ignorance of hilarity.

“Well not everyone wants to see her between the sheets.”

Interruption of the education saves Hoseok from the verbal spar pending within the fire engulfing Yoongi’s pupils. A place of love harbors the words of war, he knows this, knows that Hoseok’s plan is to rile to the point of action, but he’s driven to the brink of insanity by twisted words of encouragement. The kindest person on the planet playing into the stereo of broken records hurled toward the edges of your delicate framing, .

Yoongi’s hands curl around his pen, ballpoint and already dancing the page, jotting words flown from one canal to the other and back to the atmospheric toxins of brains shorting caffeine. His sleeves are suddenly burning, neck itching with the heat of nerves crawling outward from within the confines of his collar. He glances toward Hoseok staring absently at Yoongi’s decorative scrawl, raising a brow to colliding gazes.

“Is it hot?” Yoongi puckers in mumble, swiping at the skin kissing the fringe sweeping his eyeline. Hoseok’s head careens in the negative, averting gaze to the front of the room, professor droning about the coming assignment, a project that Yoongi barely catches wind of.

The plague responsible for his discomfort of familiarity is comfort enough to stop the distant tremble of shoulders keen to the stare that meets his eyes from the room’s opposing side. He jolts, or rather the calm of his heart picks back to pace, when his eyes meet irises reflective of his own. They’re gone as soon as he finds them, but he’s confident that the cool of his neck is confirmation that sanity isn’t all lost.

“Dude, could you take your notes? I’m gonna need those later,” Hoseok nudges at his forearm, limp from distraction. Yoongi hurries to scribble missed lecture, patient for a lull in speech to make room for declaration.

“She was looking at me.”

“What?”

“Y/n, she was looking at me. I saw her...I felt her.”

“Maybe she was just staring off into space because this class is a snooze-fest.” Hoseok speaks through the timing of yawn, perfectly punctuating his point. “She probably doesn’t even know you exist. Though, I guess everyone knows you exist, so maybe she just doesn’t care.”

The words aren’t false, Yoongi’s following his beyond the definition of quaint, his celebrity following him from the rush of the court to the thrill of the keys. He’s hard pressed for a moment of peace, but he often finds it here, lost in you.

“I’m serious.”

Yoongi sighs an audible defeat, Hoseok’s dropped lids and the rest of his chin atop folded arms a clear sign that his mind is beyond the classroom and beyond Yoongi’s own romantic woes. The end of the lecture appears miles from the start, the wave of dismissal a spell releasing its hold on the shackles chaining the ghoulish appearance of sleepless students.

Yoongi has worked himself to the brink of decision by the end of the lecture, sure enough that his stride to your desk will prove a build in the shy tint of his cheeks when he musters a faint ‘hello’. The pan of his half thought out plan doesn’t sort as well as he hoped, the rush of legs scurrying for the door tripping him up in his rush to the chair where you patiently filed notebook to bag.

His vision is blurred by the passage of sweaters and hoodies, emblems emblazoned on sleeves and beanies sagging from the tips of bedhead. Hoseok follows after his stride in a confused wake from the desk that housed his sleepy head for the last seventy minutes, stumbling along with the drag of feet on tile.

When destination is met, your chair is neatly housed, your figure nowhere to be found, Yoongi paces back, his sizable sneaker just scuffing the metal recline of an adjacent chair.

“What are you doing?” Hoseok clutches the muscled fabric of Yoongi’s shoulder, stopping near disaster following the weighted displacement of the two.

“Nothing, let's get lunch.”

The passage of days are a haze in the midst of the craze of midterms and Yoongi’s attempt to find reason to believe your glance was more than a passing innocence. The press of his back to his mattress, sheets freshly laundered, linens, scented of the artificial makings of fresh lilac courtesy of Jeongguk, are used to his mid-day collapse for a pre-study snooze. He’s swallowed whole beneath the dense of his comforter, fingers curling into the soft material, lips emitting a sigh of satisfaction.

The buds in his ears are a dull hum, white noise to saturate the crevices of his brain still vibrating from the surge of knowledge consumed at the twice rapid pace of the semester’s schedule. His lids are aflutter, pupils rolling to the dark precipice, the unconscious already tugging at the bits of his subconscious manifested to snooze.

The muscles of his pillowy cheeks fight upward against the smush to the firm cushioning of his mattress, arms cuddled around the decorative cushion of deep blue. A pitched giggle echoes in the receptors of his brain, bouncing against the walls, a comforting sound. It’s foreign though, the melodic stutter, yet it engulfs his chest with the warmth of affection, his stomach turning with nerves of the giddy sort.

He teeters on the edge of more, features dancing between streams, a waterfall blur. Yoongi aches for the reach, his physical and metaphorical being extending from the depths of his full size bed, yearning for the exploration of the four walls and beyond. He can swear his fingers graze the soft of skin, the trace of lip curved in sensuality just visible through sleepy haze. The giggles grow in volume, almost as if guided toward his hasty reach.

“Jeongguk, shut up!” Yoongi falls forward, just catching onto the ledge of his dresser, quick reflexes doing wonders for his physical well being, but the skip in his mental and the stop of his heart are undeniable.

He's heard the voice a handful of times, an arm eagerly shooting to respond to a professor’s quarry, the hidden mumblings that he swears he’s the only one to pick up on, his smirk almost never enough to stop impending chuckle.

It’s you.

He knows, but can’t quite grasp that just beyond the barrier of belief, past the door sealed to keep from disturbance you’re somewhere laughing with Jeongguk. He listens for a moment, unmoving, to attempt a deciphering of your intentions, but laughter has turned to the inaudible mumblings from the room across the hall. He’s silent in his trek to the door, pulling it on rusted hinges, cringing with every scrape of copper and wood.

He slips down the hall on tiptoe, unsure if you’re attune to the other members of the house, but not ready to face you if Jeongguk’s door swings back to reveal the occupants of the small cubical. Yoongi makes way to the kitchen, surprised to find the rest of his roommates crowded into the sizable space, each occupied with their own endeavor of strewn textbooks and half frozen toaster strudel.

“Well well look who’s awake,” Jimin sneers playfully in Yoongi’s direction, drawing attention from the rest of the room.

“Bet I can guess why,” Taehyung snickers, glances exchanged with a conspiratorial air, the shift of Yoongi’s feet not unnoticed by his personal tormentors. “We told Jeongguk he might wanna keep it down, we know how you like your rest.”

“Jeongguk didn’t wake me,” Not the correct turn of phrase, realized just moments late, the flicker of pupils raising with the feigned ah ha! Yoongi side steps them all, settling on the sphere of orange grabbing his interest from the bowl on the table, plopping into the nearest chair.

“Oh he didn’t? Well what other reason could you possibly have to forgo your pre-study nap, hmmm?” Jin pokes at the slightly greened peel of Yoongi’s fruit, hand smacked away with haste. He withdraws to card through his hair, lengthening by the day, framing his face with more beauty than should be allowed by the ethereal senior.

“I was hungry, s’all.” He tosses scraps with each peel of fruitful flesh, eagerly sliding bits of tangerine past his puckered lips. Anything to keep his mind from the fresh dose of giggles eating at his brain like a love bitten parasite. “Who—umm, who does Jeongguk have over.”

“Oh, Kookie has a friend over? We had no idea,” Namjoon hums, glasses perched to the bridge of his nose, arms eaten by the sleeves of his hoodie.

“Maybe you recognize their voice? I mean, you’re the only one close enough to hear it.” Hoseok’s grin is shit eating, half hidden behind the length of his hand, fingers curling in position at the tip of his chin.

“Oh, oh! I think I recall him saying something about a...Y/—hmmm was it…” Taehyung fakes stumbles over the name, tips of his fingers tracing the glass of his crumbed plate.

“Y/n.” Yoongi speaks through teeth clenched, his cheeks rosy from snatched sleep and the scrutiny he’s placed himself under, the heat of a lamp concentrated in the five pairs of eyes trained on his every movement for their amusement.

“So you do know her, why don’t you go say hi?” Jin pats him with vigour, the sound of an echoed frame permeating the air of what Yoongi has affectionately titled, friendly toxicity. Those same muffled voices grow with the trek down the stairs, threatening to give way with each step. Yoongi lifts his eyes from his half eaten fruit for the first time since he sat down, daring them to say a word out of turn with a single look.

“It’s pretty quiet considering seven guys live here,” Your voice is audible from the front door, Yoongi’s grip tightening, juice spilling down the crevices of his hand, soiling his shirt sleeve, palms already sticky from the stress. “I have one roommate and, as you’ve seen, she can be loud enough for the both of us.”

“I’m just as surprised as you are actually. I know Yoongi is probably asleep,” Yoongi sinks into his chair, knowing glances threatening to drop him straight through the wooden surface. “The rest are probably out.”

“Yoongi?” Your voice strays a bit, Yoongi’s lip twitching, unsure what to think of the sudden strain in pitch.

“Yeah, do you know him?”

“Oh, um...kinda? Not really, we share a class together, but we’ve never talked. I’m pretty sure he’d think he’s too cool for me anyways. You know, ‘misery chick’ and all.” Yoongi levels a stare at Hoseok whose arms lift in readied defense, though his own face conjures frown at your words. Your attention clearly never spotting the longing with which he’s leveled you for the past few months.

“You’re not the ‘misery chick’,” Jeongguk’s voice holds firm reassurance, something Yoongi wishes he could give you, but he’s glued, too curious for the thought of impromptu interruption. “People are just jerks. Besides, Yoongi-hyung isn’t like that at all. He likes to pretend he doesn’t know how cool people think he is.”

“Guess I’ll just have to take your word for it. I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow, Koo.”

The door closes, Jeongguk just as soon rounding into the kitchen, tracks dead when there are six pairs of eyes trained on his figure. “Wha—have you all been here the whole time?”

He only takes pause momentarily, his stride leading to the fridge, a juice box of all things pulled from metal confines. The naked eye would never guess the soft interior of Jeongguk, his features contrasting with the boots swallowing his feet and the tattoos eating his arm, tracing his digits. But he’s the walking embodiment of the careful youth painting each man posted in the room, a piece of him nursed by a piece of them with each day passing.

“Yeah, we’re just hangin’ around, Jeonggukie.” Hoseok shrugs, ruffling the base of Jeongguk’s wild curls.

“Well you’re doing it pretty quietly, Y/n thought it was weird.”

“Are you guys dating?” Jimin’s question is thrown with abandon, eyes trained on Jeongguk with absolute focus, Yoongi sending a glare toward the silver haired fiend.

“No.” Jeongguk pays little mind to the question, too busy squeezing every last drop from the box clutched in his fist, doe eyes glistening with concentration. “We met last semester in lit and she’s really cool so we started hanging out. You guys should meet her sometime, she doesn’t have a lot of friends because of this dumb rumor that she’s ‘the misery chick’ which is ridiculous because she’s one of the nicest people I’ve met here.”

“Yeah, you can bring her over any time.” Namjoon encourages, book lowered to the table, face scrunching in mental agony when he realizes the corner of his novel is soaked with the spill of orange juice.

“She said she knows you from class Yoongi, but she doesn’t think you’d like her. I think you would though! Maybe you should try to talk to her next class.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi readily agrees, new found vigor in his speech. “Maybe…”

Over the next several weeks, Yoongi is sure that coincidence isn’t what found his stare locked to yours, Jeongguk’s overheard conversation clearly leaving your interest peaked about Yoongi who was forced to make his own gazes less frequent for fear of being caught. His first sighting after he floated the walls of his home like a ghost in haunt was next lecture.

The nerves that ate at his skin the first instance of your curious scan was turned bearable by the itching of excitement to his every nerve, skin alight with the tango of possibility traversing his very being. His attention was wayward, standing at the head of the class, scooping the pages required for lecture from the overflowing desk, a minute ‘excuse me’ cutting through the thick of his cogged brain.

“Yes?” Was his response, regurgitated dumbly despite the forming line waiting for him to budge to his waiting seat.

“Uh...could I get by...papers.” He smiles, unintentional, but the effect is the duck of your head, refusal to meet his eyes under such a heated gaze. He’s left to stare a moment longer before the snag of his sleeve, Hoseok forcing him away, calming the mob of students too impatient to momentarily still for the fruition of his romantic interest.

Lately, your exit from class seems somehow quicker than usual, the practiced haste too much for him to master, another obstacle to his formal introduction. Though it seems your professor can read the tension that hovers the expanse of the classroom, a thread itching to be linked by two lovers, one unknowing of the delicate pull she has on her soul suitor.

“Okay!” The professor stands at the front of the room, barely holding the attention of the class, barely holding Yoongi’s attention until he speaks once more. “Instead of a formal midterm, I want you all to complete a joint essay, yes you heard me correctly! I want you to pair up and write an essay on the topic of your choosing—as long as that topic is related to the course.”

Yoongi perks up, ignoring the telltale that Hoseok hopes to grab him as soon as the class is dismissed because Yoongi has a plan of his own.

“Of course I won’t force you to choose a partner, I know some of you prefer to work alone. But no more than two people to a group. Now I can see that you’re all on the edge of your seats, but I’m feeling generous today, so you’re dismissed, but your pages are due on my desk beginning of class Monday!” The final words of the professor send the class into frenzy, those who were paying attention quick to grab hold of their half and those who weren’t suddenly catching up and scrambling for someone who’ll make do.

“Hey, we’re partners, right?” Hoseok looks at Yoongi hopeful, but Yoongi already has his sights set on you, watching everyone link up, resigned to working solo.

“Nah, I’ve got another partner in mind if that’s okay with you.” Hoseok catches the drift rather quickly, wide smile forgoing slight disappointment at his loss of the sure A on his midterm.

“Go for it,” Hoseok gives a light shove forward, much appreciated by Yoongi whose heart threatens to burst from his chest, sure that the nerves are painted on his face like a slice of Van Gogh. He’s just in time, your hands shoved into your pockets, ready to leave the suffocation of a space smothered in unwelcome.

“Hey.” Yoongi can see the uncertainty, your eyes glancing to either side to ensure that he is certainly addressing you.

“Hey…”

“So, this midterm thing is kinda weird, right?” He can already see the snicker on Hoseok’s face, though his friend is posted at the door opposite him. Your own lips quirk, his only thought of coherency aimed at how cute the action is. You rock on your heels, he notes your style isn’t far off from the bones of Jeongguk, hoodie black and heavy boots ready to stomp through endless waves of the nauseating sea of university.

“Yeah...I guess it’s a little unconventional. But great for people who get test anxiety,” You humor him, hands withdrawing from jeaned confines to gesture wildly to the room void of anyone but the three remaining vessels, two of which are engaged in unlikely exchange. “Did you need something?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry! I don’t mean to be rude, but I have a class to get to and I have a thing about being late. I figure there’s a reason you’re talking to me seeing as we’ve never actually talked before…” You catch yourself in ramble, tripping over phrases whilst Yoongi watches without missing a beat.

He’s incredibly taken with the way the words flow without pretense, a nice change to the closed off demeanor people falsely associate with you. He would listen for a lifetime to the things you have to say, hopefully with the clasp of finger and longing glances. Your intent is nonsense, nerves eating away at the buds of your tongue. To him it’s a poetry specially curated, a tickle to his throat bringing forth the soft laughter that halts your speech.

“I’m sorry, you go ahead I’m just...nervous.”

“No no, don’t apologize, I like listening to you,” He coos when you smile, quick to recover before your eyes, wide and attentive find his own once more, now notably softer, safer. “I love your smile too…”

“You’re not so bad yourself…” Soft spoken and not altogether sure is the way you speak, your class long forgotten, a blip in rear view shadowed by the shining beacon before you. “So…?”

“Right, right...I was just wondering if you’d maybe wanna work together?” Despite compliments and hinted flirtation you’re taken aback by the offer, your eyes skirting Yoongi completely, raising question to the figure station by the exit. Hoseok offers you a smile you can’t help but return his thumbs raising in the affirmative.

“He’s all yours,” Hoseok assures, taking his leave prematurely, Yoongi still waiting for confirmation.

“No pressure, just thought I’d ask. I think we’d work well together,” And I wanna know you, he withholds for fear of frightening you more so than the sudden acknowledgement already has.

“Well I don’t know about that, but yeah I’d love to if you’re sure.”

“I’m positive. Wanna meet at my place after school?”

“Sounds good.” You pull your phone swiping at the screen before passing it over. “Just text me when you’re free.”

“I’ll text the address,” He knows it’s unnecessary, just taking precautions to shield from the admission of his eavesdrop the last time you occupied the residence. You wait until you’re once again clutching the spherical confines of your devices, checking and double checking that all digits are present, not unfamiliar with the harsh reality of falsehood buried beneath genuine interest.

“Oh, I actually know where you live. My friend Jeongguk is one of your roommates, so I know my way.”

“Well I’m sorry we’ve missed each other, that it took me so long to say hello.” Yoongi’s legs lead him half a step closer, an accidentally purposeful close of the gap between, your eyes avoid the bottom half of his face, focusing instead on the bill of his cap and the dark hair tickling the edges.

“Guess you’ll just have to make up for it somehow.”

“Guess I will.”

Your visits to Yoongi are routine over the next week, the laughter filling the hectic halls caused by him rather than his roommates. He’s seen more of you in a week than he could’ve hoped in a lifetime, even more confused about the way you’ve been outcast by a majority of your major. He’s awed by your lack of reaction to the judgement of peers, often citing it as a joke, sarcasm lacing the words.

It’s the day before assignment is due, you’re perched at Yoongi’s desk, he’s laying on his bed, tossing his basketball in mock free throw simultaneously with his toss of ideas while your fingers type vigorously in final draft.

This particular evening leaves you alone with Yoongi, the other members of the house trying and failing to convince you to join for their weekly outing to the nearest bar where they would no doubt drink their weight to poorly prepare for the week to come. Yoongi was swift to opt out, much preferring your company to the stench of stale beer and jokes poorly executed by Jin after he downs his fifth shot.

You were insistent that he let you handle the rest of the paper, just pages standing between you and your final product, but he’s too fond of the way your post-its decorate the shelf over his desk, different colored notes for every paragraph, the ink of your pens highlighting each point in magenta saturation. He’s obsessed with the way you hunch to close to the pages of your textbook while scolding him for getting too close to the screen of his laptop in the next breath.

He can’t help the thought of what could be, close calls and a hair’s breadth stepping between you all week. It’s the price of seven roommates and a lock loosened with the jiggle of a handle. The hesitancy that still fills your pupils despite the easy way his words lace with genuine interest.

Yoongi remembered what it was like to notice, deciding that it’s much better to experience you. The moment is delicate, your soft suggestions and argumentative replies tossed with a hint of tease lacing the bite of your tone. He doesn’t try to hide the smile that breaks the mold of his face, lips dampened by the press of gums prominent from healthy reach.

“Can I ask you a question?” He raises, your fingers slowing against the keyboard, chair swiveling to offer full attention. “Does it bother you...the whole ‘misery chick’ thing?”

He’s not sure what possesses it, but he is sure that knowing will make things easier, break a barrier that to him doesn’t exist. He knows your breath is baited, knows you’ve been waiting for the pull of the rug, so he offers a tug, a comforting teasing sort of thing to ease your mind and close the gap of misunderstanding that he could never blame you for.

“Can I ask you a question? Do you believe the whole ‘misery chick’ thing?” You counter, scooting along hardwood until your knees are pressed to his mattress, sinking into the cushioned flesh as far as it allows. Your stare is careful, not expectant of the negative or offended by the positive. “It’s okay if you do, just don’t lie about it.”

There's a sadness in your delivery and Yoongi notes it immediately. Your attempt to hide the twitch of your lip and the anxious fold of your hands in your lap don’t escape him. Your tone is even, your eyes much the same and he wonders how anyone could ever believe it, he’s grateful that he never did.

“Not for a second.” He responds almost immediately, waiting for any lingering doubt on your end. It never comes.

“Good.” Is your reply, just as even as the question itself. Your shoulders relax, posture not as stiff as before. “It does bother me, not as much as it used to, but it does. It bothers me that they don’t like that I’m not like them. I don’t mean that in the whole ‘I’m not like other girls’ way, but I’m just not Cathy college, you know? I don’t get excited about parties and drinking, I don’t need to go out all the time to have fun, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with you if you do, but I don’t and because I’m not like everyone else I have to be ‘the misery chick’.

He’s sure you don’t realize it, but Yoongi see’s the build of tears in your eyes, unshed but there and it breaks him. Breaks him that something so trivial could be the defining factor of someone’s experience, that you can hide it so well at the cost of your own happiness.

“I mean, it’s college, you’d think that people have better things to do than come up with reasons to ridicule someone, but I guess I have too much faith.” You finish, glancing up to find Yoongi all ears, lips etched in frown. “Sorry, you didn’t ask for all of that.”

“People suck.” Is all he says, hand extending toward you, inviting you to join him on his island, silent but sure. You crawl the length of the mattress, your back pressing the headboard, fingers laced with his own, warm and sweaty from nerves, yours or his neither of you are sure.

“People do suck.”

“I know what’ll make you feel better.” He offers, thumb running along the jagged edges of your knuckle, skin kissing skin. You lift your head, half leaning on his shoulder so your eyes meet, a reflection of picture perfect, a record in perfect sync.

“Yeah?”

“You should go out with me.” Yoongi doesn’t expect a snort, but the response is exactly what he receives your head averting to conceal your laughter, hands shielding your face from the expanse of an ego deflated by the graze of your accidental needle. “Why are you laughing?”

“No I’m not—I just—you’ve been looking at me like I’m completely insane all semester! I didn’t think you liked me, I thought you were looking right through me...I kinda thought you were just coming to class high every day.”

“I don’t even smoke, those were not the eyes of a stoner, they were the eyes of a man who’s very fond of you.” Yoongi defends his position, his usually dormant stare now bugged to exaggeration, unavailable for serious consideration.

“My mistake, though I don’t know whether to be weirded out or completely flattered.”

“You better be so flattered that I can see hearts in your eyes because you were pretty quick to agree to be my partner for this project!” Yoongi keeps the charade, glad to lighten the tension and draw from the heaviness of the previous conversation. It’s not a chapter that’s closed, but the beginning is the build and he’s planning an entire novel with you, so he figures his time isn’t limited by the tick of a clock nearing the midnight hour.

“I heard I’ve got a sure ‘A’ and I’d be an idiot to pass that up.”

“You could get a passing grade in your sleep, you can’t fool me. But you can go on a date with me.”

“So you, cool guy Min Yoongi, want to go on a date with me, ‘the misery chick’?” You gasp, hand clutched to your chest, Yoongi’s hand catching hold and bringing it to his own, to the beat of his heart, the bass begging for a melody that only you can satisfy.

“More than anything.”

“Well when you put it that way I have no choice but to say yes, but to be clear, I’ve definitely seen you looking at Hoseok with that same look in your eyes so you might wanna sort some stuff out first—”

#bangtanuniversity #bangtanidx #suganetwork #bangtanarmynet #thebtswritersclub #yoongi x reader #myg x reader #yoongi fluff #yoongi fanfic #bts fluff #bts fanfic #yoongi oneshot #bts oneshot #houseofddaeng

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jungkookiebus · 4 years

Text

Overprotective | jjk

Genre: bf2l, smut, angst Pairing: jungkook x reader Rating: M Word Count: 6.6k Warnings: TRIGGER WARNING: there is domestic abuse, mostly mental, but there is mentions of physical, Jungkook beats the shit out of someone, if violence bothers you DO NOT READ THIS, cunnilingus, unprotected sex. Summary: Jungkook had been your friend for long enough to know that something was wrong and seeing you spiraling in your current relationship had him on edge. It all comes to a head at a house party when he witnesses the abuse firsthand, throwing him into a blind rage that has him throwing your boyfriend into the front lawn. Author’s Note: Angry jjk in the ON mv got me in my feelings. Thanks. @bulletproofbirdy

“Are you coming tonight?”

Jungkook sat on the edge of your bed scrolling through his phone.

“Hm?” he asked absently. You looked over to see his face illuminated by the eyesight ruining blue light of his phone. It highlighted the scar on his cheek. He scrunched his nose as he sniffed but didn’t look away from his phone.

“The party. At Hobi’s,” you said as you began removing your clothing and pulling dresses off hangers from your closet.

He finally looked up as you were pulling a gold dress up passed your hips and adjusting the straps on your shoulders.

“Are you really going to wear that?” he asked while gesturing his phone at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged. “Seems like overkill maybe.”

Jungkook was your best friend of almost seven years. Seven years filled with happiness, sadness, and sometimes downright aggravation. Like now.

“It’s not that kind of party, _____, it’s chill.” He paused for a second and chewed his lip. “Is Cheol going to be there?”

You suddenly stopped mid-waist as you were pulling the dress back off. Jungkook had seen every which version of you there was to see. His favorite was high _____ trying to get to the bathroom before she wet her pants. Any shyness you had around Jungkook in the beginning was replaced by blind trust and a totally comfortable space around him. You had met Jungkook at a very similar party. He had tried to hook up with you and you had turned him down with such drunken gusto that he was immediately taken with you romantic or not. Later that night when your friend had, naturally, left you to go with some guy, you were stuck on the front lawn, mascara running from cry laughing at Jin’s dumb jokes, missing a left shoe, and a little hopeless. He sidled up to you as you scrolled through your contacts trying to figure out how to get home.

“Need help?” he asked after clearing his throat.

You had looked up at him, sneered, and went right back to scrolling.

His eyebrows shot up into his hair in amusement, a small smile forming on his face. He then leaned down closer to you and was looking at your phone screen.

“Can I help you?” you had slurred as you hid the screen against your chest.

“Let me get you home. Your friend obviously left you.”

You bent over, eyes crossing as you imitated the Spongebob meme.

“YoUr FrIeNd oBviOuSly lEft YoU. No shit Sherlock.”

You hadn’t expected him to start laughing so hard. Soon, he was unable to breathe, red faced as tears streamed down his face.

“What’s wrong with you?” You hadn’t expected him to answer. His laughter had him clutching his stomach in mock agony.

“I think I’m in love with you, let’s go,” he had said, grabbing your wrist and dragging you along behind him.

And that was how you became friends with Jungkook. It had all started with a pass that turned into hanging out and playing video games every weekend, to sleepovers, and then to practically living together despite having your own apartments. Your current boyfriend was not happy with the fact that Jungkook was with you most of the time.

“He’ll be there.”

You saw him bristle.

“Why do you like him?”

“Jungkook, not this again.”

Time and time again, Jungkook had seen you come home a little broken. At first, he thought maybe it was a tiny argument. You’d shrug off any concerns he had and told him you were just tired. He would watch you as you walked, shoulders slumped, and disappear into your room. The next day you would be perfectly fine, talking to him as if things were just as they should be. Then you started coming home, eyes puffy from crying and wiping your nose on your hand. Again, he’d ask you if everything was okay. ‘Just a little fight.’ He started to worry, but you told him everything would be okay. Months passed and you became withdrawn. The life left your eyes, your smile faded, and you started to spend more time at your apartment alone or with Cheol. Whenever he would go to your apartment in search of you and Cheol was there, he would either find a way to get rid of Jungkook or sulk behind you when Jungkook pushed passed him. Either way, Jungkook knew he was isolating you from him. Any attempt to talk to you would turn into an argument.

One day, you came into Jungkook’s office with a busted lip, fresh tears that were drying over the others, and holding your arms across your stomach defensively. He had jumped up from his chair and rounded his desk, reaching behind you to slam the door before grabbing you by the shoulders.

“Who did this to you?” he demanded. Anger was hot in his veins. He was shaking with it.

You began to cry harder as your head met his chest and all he could think of doing right now was keeping you as safe as possible, whatever that meant. He held you tightly, encased you in his arms, probably for the first time in months, he realized. You seemed smaller, skinnier, and all around weaker. His hand came up to your head and he noticed your once shiny, sleek hair was now lackluster and thin. Something else was wrong here.

“Please,” he whispered, “tell me what is wrong.”

“Cheol…,” you had whispered. But that was all he needed to hear.

“I’m going to kill him.”

You were suddenly defensive. Pushing him away you stepped back.

“It was my fault,” you stuttered. “I shouldn’t have tried to argue with him. Really, Jungkook, I deserved it.”

His heart shattered into a million pieces. His once beautiful, full of life best friend was falling into the clutches of abuse and she was pushing him away.

“Let me help you,” his voice wavered as he tentatively held out his hand.

“I don’t need you, Jungkook,” you had spat bitterly.

Before he had any more time to react, you were out of his door, and down the stairs. He had wanted nothing more than to chase after you, but he knew if he wanted to keep some type of watch on you, he’d have to back off.

And he was right. A few weeks later you texted him telling him everything was okay, and you wanted to hang out again. You still looked dull and sad, but he tried his best to stay out of your business in order to keep you close.

You pulled a black dress from your closet and started to pull it on.

“Things are better. Really. We talked it out and he’s gotten better.”

All Jungkook could do was scoff. Once an asshole, always an asshole. That’s what he really wanted to say but he opted to just stay silent.

“Don’t come if you’re just gonna be a grouch the whole time.”

“Fuck you, I’m going,” he said as he laid back against your bed.

“Be nice.”

“I’m always nice. Unless someone wants to start shit with me, I’m going to behave myself.” He went back to scrolling through his phone. “And wear that one.”

He didn’t once look at you, but you sighed and decided you were tired of trying on clothes anyway as you continued to get ready. Thirty minutes later and you walked up to the front door of Hobi’s house together. As soon as you stepped inside Cheol was at your side, grabbing your upper arm and leading you towards the kitchen for drinks. You looked back at Jungkook who was still standing in the doorway, eyes locked with yours. You saw fear and sadness there. All at once you felt angry, but his fear was shared. You were angry that Jungkook didn’t trust you, angry that Cheol treated you poorly, but would then be so loving…it was your fault somehow.

“Let me get you a drink,” Cheol said, releasing your arm. He didn’t hold you as hard as usual. That was good. He probably wasn’t mad that you walked in with Jungkook.

“How was your day?” you asked. He never asked you first. He either waited for you to say something or he would immediately jump into something that had happened to him. Nine times out of ten, when you started to talk about your day, he would cut you off. It got to the point where you didn’t even try anymore. That’s when you would text Jungkook, or call if Cheol left, and he would listen and try to give advice the best he could. He’d always end the conversation with a ‘I love you. Please tell me if you need help.’ You would halfheartedly affirm him that you would before hanging up. You were too embarrassed to let Jungkook into your real life now. If he knew, he’d try to get you to leave. You were happy. The bad days weren’t as often, but they didn’t exactly go away either.

“Ah, you know,” he said while he made your drink, but never looked up at you. He never did. “Just another day with those bastards that think they can tell me how to do my job.”

According to him, everyone at his office were idiots, yet he rubbed noses with them every day. You just hummed to let him know you heard but didn’t offer any words. He never wanted advice and he sure as hell didn’t want to hear about you.

“Let’s go,” he said while handing you a drink. He turned without a backwards glance, expecting you to follow dutifully. Which you did. He walked up to a circle of his friends and began chatting immediately, ignoring the fact that you were even there.

You sipped awkwardly on your drink as you scanned the room. You were very much on the outside of the circle, cut off by shoulders that were all above your head. You’d have to duck in between them if you wanted to say anything. Not that they wanted you to contribute. That’s when you spotted Jimin. About that time, he also saw you and began to wave emphatically. You met Jimin at the coffee shop you frequented before classes and you both soon were on the same coffee schedule, expecting to see the other every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. You’d stand in line together and talk about your weekend, classes, and whatever came up. You found out you had a similar friend in Hobi a couple of weeks into your friendship and soon began seeing him at his parties. You considered Jimin a good friend and his infectious laugh always brought a smile to your face. His eyes disappeared as he smiled harder, waving you over. Of course, you went on your own accord. Cheol didn’t even notice that you had walked away.

Minutes passed, you weren’t counting because when Jimin was telling you about some ridiculous group project he was in, time didn’t matter. Without noticing, Jimin had nonchalantly draped his arm across your shoulders as he laughed and talked. You didn’t think anything of it and neither did he. His face was red from the alcohol and he was laughing so hard, drool escaped the corner of his mouth, causing you to double over. He was still attached to you as you both bent over in laughter. On your vacant side, you felt four sharp fingernails dig into your upper arm. You yelped as you were yanked away. Jimin stumbled back in surprise but kept his footing.

“What are you doing?” Cheol seethed. His eyes were on Jimin and if looks could kill, Jimin would be dead and turned to dust on the floor.

Jimin’s eyes shifted to your terror filled ones. You willed Jimin to relent. Please don’t say anything, you begged internally.

He didn’t even spare Cheol a look as he looked directly at you.

“_____ are you okay?”

This time Cheol looked at you. You could feel the anger roiling off him. It heated your skin and made you dizzy. Your knees were locked and cutting off your blood supply. The room swirled a little as you shrank in fear.

“And what were you doing?” He almost spat in your face. His fingers dug harder into your arm and you felt the first tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Please not here,” you begged as you tried to pry his fingers from your arm.

That only made him angrier. People were starting to notice and look at you. Jimin was sobering up quickly and was about to say something again when you heard it.

Your mind was hazy as your thoughts raced, trying to figure out every possible solution to this situation. It was a growl? Roar? You weren’t sure what it was at first, but it was loud. Someone was very, very angry. You could hear them yell, deep and guttural, somewhere close by.

“You fucking son of a bitch, don’t fucking touch her!”

That’s when Cheol’s gripped was ripped from you. He was still holding tightly, and his fingernails dug painfully into your skin, but he soon lost his grip and you were sent to the side. When you could catch your bearings, you righted yourself to figure out what the hell had just happened. Jungkook stood, fists clenched and the knuckles on his right hand a bloody pink. You had never seen him with that look before, at least never directed at you. Hatred. Pure, unadulterated hatred is how you would describe it. His eyes were black, and anger burned there. Suddenly, his soft features you loved so much were sharp and menacing. This was a Jungkook you didn’t know and one you didn’t wish to encounter again. His chest heaved as he breathed hard, trying to contain himself as Cheol scrambled up from the floor and launched himself at Jungkook. You screamed as he collided with Jungkook’s chest, shoving him backwards, but Jungkook was good on his feet. He managed to keep his hands on Cheol’s shoulders, stepping back in time with him as his back connected with the closest wall. Cheol tried to take a swing at Jungkook, but he was too drunk to aim correctly. Jungkook dodged him easily before he landed a punch to his stomach. He stumbled backwards, coughing, but either the alcohol or sheer stupidity had him standing up somewhat tall in the face of a fuming Jungkook. Jungkook clearly had not been drinking as he stood his ground steadily, waiting for Cheol to make a move.

“You want that slut,” Cheol sneered, pointing a shaky finger at you. “You can have her. I used her all up anyway.”

You thought that Jungkook was going to explode like a star and take everyone with him. His gaze darkened as he surged forward, grabbed a stunned Cheol by his collar and literally swept him off his feet with one kick of his foot, and began dragging him through the house. The crowd parted like a fog around a car, immediately closing in on them so they could see what Jungkook was about to do. The crowd piled out of the front door after them as Jungkook drug a kicking Cheol down the front steps. You tried to push passed all the people, but the crowd was closing in and you were desperate to get outside. When you were able to make it out the front door and to the porch you saw Jungkook drop Cheol on the front lawn before sitting on his chest. You saw his fist raise and before you could intervene as you stumbled down the steps, you heard the sickening crack as he connected with his face.

You could not believe this was happening right now. Jungkook had really lost his mind.

“You don’t love her, stupid mother fucker,” Jungkook growled as he grasped his shirt in his left fist and raised his fist once more.

Crack.

You winced and turned away as Jungkook yet again, connected with Cheol’s face.

His fist came back into the air, bloody, skin split, but he didn’t even seem to notice as he directed his anger on Cheol.

“And you’re sure as hell never touching her again.”

This time, the hit sounded wet. When you looked back, you could tell Cheol was out cold.

“Jungkook, please!” you called out. At the sound of your voice Jungkook froze and seemed to snap out of it. He turned and looked at your pained expression as you begged him to stop. He dropped his hand and looked down at Cheol’s bloody face.

Hobi came running from inside the house, leaping off the porch in one bound and was pulling Jungkook off him.

“What the fuck, Jungkook?!” Hobi was looking from him to Cheol to assess the damage.

Cheol’s friends were now surrounding as Hobi pulled Jungkook away from the scene, sternly telling him he needed to leave before another fight broke out and he called the cops.

That’s when you knew you had a decision to make.

Cheol lay completely still in the grass, left eye swelling, and blood pouring from his bottom lip. If you guessed correctly, his nose was probably broken too. You were finally able to see him for who he truly was; a manipulative bastard that never loved you but wanted you to himself. He was ugly inside and out and all it took was seeing him finally being reduced to nothing. Gone was the “tough” exterior of Cheol. Your eyes met Jungkook’s from across the yard. He still looked angry, but you saw fear there too. He saw your eyes flicker to Cheol again and he knew you were trying to decide between the two. He didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t at least act like you were going to walk his way. But you had already decided. Cheol had his “friends”. They all fussed over him now deciding who was going to take him to the ER. None of them even turned to find you. You walked past the group and straight into the arms of Jungkook.

“Let’s go home,” he said shakily. His adrenaline was ebbing, and he was starting to feel the repercussions of his actions.

Ten minutes into the thirty minute walk and you were reduced to a sobbing mess. The night and all the things leading up to it were easily being stored away as they happened, as your brain always did to protect you. But now that there was a whole added element of worry you weren’t expecting, you didn’t know how to feel so naturally you began to panic. On top of that, your feet were starting to bleed from your heels. The entire time, Jungkook was next to you, arm around your waist as you walked. He was the one that needed help walking, not you, yet here he was making sure you were okay.

“Hey, everything’s okay,” he whispered as he stopped.

Your body felt spent as if you had stayed up for hours on end; exhaustion finally settling into your bones. After the initial shock had settled, you suddenly feared for Jungkook, knowing what Cheol was capable of doing.

“Jungkook…,” you cried. You reached down and pulled your heels off. On top of being frustrated, scared, and tired your feet were in so much pain you could barely stand it.

He looked down and sighed.

“Oh, baby…,” he said sympathetically.

The sentiment made your heart skip a beat, but it was something you could think about later. He waited until you were upright before he scooped you up bridal style.

“Jungkook, you don’t have-,” you started before he cut you off with a ‘shh’. You looked down at his bloody knuckles, the skin very angry in some spots where he split them open. He paid no mind as he held you close, and you let your head fall against his shoulder. His breathing was steady as he carried you and he didn’t say a word the whole way. In no time, he was buzzing into your building and carrying you up the stairs. He only sat you down at your door so you could fish out your key. Once inside, he ensured the door was locked and the window leading to the fire escape.

“We gotta clean up your hand,” you said almost robotically as you moved on instinct towards the bathroom.

“____,” he said while reaching out to stop you and you flinched.

For the second time, you broke his heart as you jumped as if he were going to hit you.

“It’s okay,” he reassured as he ran his hand down your hair.

You started to cry again, but this time you didn’t feel as if the panic would consume and kill you. You felt bad for Jungkook.

You didn’t say anything as you guided him to the bathroom and he sat down on the edge of the tub as you pulled a first aid kit out from the cabinet. You sat on the toilet, knees to knees, as you grabbed his hand and sat it on your thigh. Grabbing a washcloth, you held it next to his hand as you carefully poured peroxide over the cuts. He watched you intently as you focused on the work at hand. In the moments Jungkook had you away from Cheol was when that fake exterior would start to melt little by little. When you were around Jungkook, you relaxed and were yourself. He’d see old pieces of you come back from time to time and he felt like he got his best friend back, until you went home to him. He felt angry again as he thought about what Cheol took away from him, what he took away from you, but he kept it to himself as you reached for antibacterial cream and some butterfly band-aids.

“What were you thinking?” you finally whispered.

You were still working slowly, paying attention to each knuckle.

What was he thinking? Part of him was blinded by anger and the other part knew exactly what it was doing. He wanted to beat the shit out of Cheol, had wanted to for quite some time. This time he was able to witness him put his hands on you, so he felt justified.

“I didn’t like seeing you get hurt,” he mumbled. He was embarrassed now, but he didn’t regret what he had done.

“Oh, Jungkook,” you sighed as you reached for some gauze to wrap his hand.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you, too.” This wasn’t out of the ordinary for Jungkook to say, but the air felt different. There was a tension you could taste, and you felt Jungkook struggling to say something.

“I could be so much better to you.” He sounded as if he were going to cry. “You don’t deserve to be treated that way, _____. Please tell me you’ll leave him. I’m scared for you.”

You felt him looking at your face now and you were almost afraid to look at him as you put the final touches on his hand. His eyes were pleading when you finally looked at him.

If you couldn’t love him back, he at least wanted you to promise him that you’d leave the asshole.

He was right. All this time when he tried to keep you close and you pushed him away, he was in fear for your life. The person you thought should care for you could not care less, and the person that loved you the most was a phone call away and your best friend. You were blind to what you had when Cheol made himself the center of your universe. But Jungkook was loyal when he didn’t need to be, always there when you needed to fall into his arms no matter how much it hurt to see you walk out of his door.

Many nights he’d cry knowing you were going back into the clutches of Cheol and he was helpless to do anything. He’d daydream about killing Cheol or waiting for him to get off work and punch him in the face as he tried to get in his car. Yes, he was thinking extremely, but he was afraid.

Tonight was the last straw for Jungkook.

“I’d never hurt you, ____,” he said, lowly, defeated.

You loooked at the front of his jacket, focused on his buttons as you tried to distract yourself.

“I love you, too,” you murmured.

Jungkook leaned forward and placed a soft kiss to your forehead, then to your temple, and the top of your cheekbone. Your eyes fluttered shut as he softly placed his hands under your jaw, holding you gently, fingers barely grazing your skin as he kissed across your nose. You leaned your face into one of his hands and he took the moment to tilt your face upwards as he placed a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I want to show you what love should feel like, _____,” he whispered against your lips, but he wasn’t touching you.

You shivered. It had been so long since someone treated you this way and honestly it scared you. If you mess up something would he be mad at you? You felt as if you were always doing something wrong.

He seemed to feel your apprehension and sighed, not out of frustration, but a sadness he couldn’t seem to shake. Cheol had effectively beaten you basically to nothing, mostly mentally. He wanted to be angry again, but he needed to hold back for you.

He placed his lips softly against yours, not expecting anything from you. He let you take your time as you kissed him back. Happiness began to bubble in his chest as you reciprocated his feelings.

This felt right. Jungkook wasn’t rushing you. He didn’t expect anything from you. He wasn’t demanding you to pleasure him. He let you lead as you kissed him. It heated fast as you sat a little straighter and wrapped an arm around his neck. His arm wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer, but the limited space in the bathroom and your legs kept him from getting much closer.

He stood swiftly, bringing you with him and guided you to your room, working on muscle memory as he focused on you the whole way. You felt shy under his gaze since half the time Cheol didn’t even want to look at you. He studied you as if you would fall apart at any moment. His fingers intwined with yours and he was gentle. He didn’t reach for your wrist or your arm or grip you so tightly that his fingers dug into your skin. You began to relax little by little as he stood you in front of your bed. He reached for the hem of your dress and looked at you for permission. You nodded slowly as he started to pull the dress up passed your hips and you raised your arms to help him. He stopped and removed his jacket and then his jeans followed by his shirt, putting you on equal ground.

“Are you okay?” He seemed genuinely concerned as he kept his movements slow, not wanting to startle or rush you. He ran his hand softly up your arm and squeezed your shoulder gently before pulling you into his warm embrace. The skin on skin contact comforted you and it brought back memories of nights snuggled up next to Jungkook before Cheol came into your life and ruined that. For the first time in months you didn’t feel scared or useless. Jungkook’s actions said it all.

He held you there for a few moments, ensuring you were okay. He knew you were vulnerable and didn’t want you to think he was taking advantage of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

You felt a small sob get stuck in your throat.

“You’re wonderful, and smart, and the most adventurous person I know. Remember the first we did something together out of town? You convinced me to go ghost hunting at that abandoned hospital and all we found was a family of raccoons and a homeless guy.”

He laughed as a you giggled a little, sniffing, and smiling as you remembered Jungkook’s screams when the raccoon walked up behind him.

He ran his fingers through your hair and massaged the back of your head as you leaned against his chest.

“I love the way you look in the morning when you first wake up, like a steamed bun.”

You laughed again.

“Or the way you sing in the shower. I must say you have improved over the years. I love when you put my blanket in the dryer before I come over and it’s cold out. Those ham sandwiches?! I don’t know what you put on them, but I’d fight a kid over one if I had to.”

Your laugh was music. This is what he wanted. He wanted all of you. He wanted you to know that all of you was worth having, that you meant something, a human being deserving of love. He had loved you for years, but your friendship meant more to him than his silly feelings. Seeing you suffer made him regret not saying anything sooner.

“Can I show you?” he asked.

You knew what he meant. He didn’t have to say more as you pulled him into another kiss in affirmation. He reached behind you, snapping the clasp easily, and slid the straps of your bra down your shoulders, letting it fall. He had seen you naked hundreds of times for various reasons, but never this. Now, you were in front of him giving yourself to him and he was elated to get the chance. He cupped your breast lightly and squeezed a little, testing your limits. You moaned and leaned into him, nipping at his bottom lip. He moaned into the kiss as you buried your hands in his hair. He then wrapped his arms around you, gently laying you back amongst the blankets without breaking the kiss. He kissed the underside of your jaw, nipped gently at the skin of your neck, and placed small kisses to your breast before wrapping his lips around your nipple. Your skin tingled as he sucked gently and ran his tongue over it. Your whines spurred him on as you held on tighter and arched your back into him. He caressed every inch of skin he could reach. The soft gauze tickled across your skin as his hand glided down to your thigh. He directed his kisses between your chest now, kissing down your stomach. He was worshipping your body the way it was meant to be. He noticed some older bruises sprinkled across your skin and made sure to kiss every single one, soothing your anxiety. His fingers caught in the band of your underwear and pulled them down. Using the back of his hand, he pushed gently against your inner thigh and you spread your legs for him. You felt shy, but all once wholly comfortable. He had seen the best and worst parts of you, what was one more thing? This felt intimate in a different way, on a deeper level. He understood your body before he even got to touch you. Hands gripping the insides of your thighs, he kissed along the flesh there.

Some years ago, you were standing in the kitchen washing dishes, wearing one of Jungkook’s discarded shirts, and a pair of shorts. He had walked in to give you a glass when he looked down and ran his finger up a stretch mark on your thigh.

“I like these,” he had said with a smile before walking from the room.

The memory warmed you now as he placed wet kisses to the dimpled and marked expanse of your thighs. He blew a stream of warm air over your wet center and you moaned and shuddered. You tried closing your legs so you could feel some friction, but he kept your thighs apart with a firm hand. He moved his hands further up your inner thighs, almost cupping your sex as he flattened his hands and spread you to get a better look.

“You’re fucking beautiful, ____. You know that right?”

He watched your face twist as he teased you. Knowing that you wanted him had him grinding his own hips into the blanket. No. He wanted to feel you around him before he reached any sort of end. He licked up your center and you moaned gutturally, grabbing at your own breasts as you bent your knees to frame his head. He kept you spread as he covered you with his mouth, tongue dancing along your clit. Your juices mixed with his spit and his chin practically dripped with it all. He had never tasted anything better. The sounds you were giving him were like an orchestra of angels. He wanted you to feel his adoration as he ate you out with fervor. He dipped his tongue inside of you and soon his name was rolling off your tongue like raindrops.

“A-ah, Jungkook,” you sighed as he inserted his middle finger inside of you.

You swallowed him in a velvety wetness that had his cock twitching amongst the cotton, and he ground his hips, moaning into your cunt as he thought about you swallowing his cock. You cried out as his moans stimulated something inside of you that had you teetering on the edge of a cataclysmic orgasm. Cheol never bothered to do this to you. He either used your mouth or your cunt, whether you came or not. You couldn’t remember the last time you had an orgasm. Jungkook was moaning more now, working his finger up inside of you, and suckling at your swollen clit. You felt as if you couldn’t breathe as your body tensed, orgasm hitting you with a force you hadn’t felt in a while. He continued licking and lapping at you as if he wanted every drop, nudging his perfectly sloped nose into your sensitive clit.

“P-please,” you stuttered. You watched him through half closed eyes as he took a few long licks up your cunt before licking his own lips and smiling at you. He reached for your hands, intertwining your fingers as he kissed up your stomach again.

He let go of your hand to push your hair off your sweaty forehead and placed a kiss on the end of your nose.

“Please what?” he asked you before placing a quick kiss on your lips.

“Make love to me?”

His eyes slid shut slowly as he replayed the phrase a thousand times in quick successions. He was kissing you again. Passionately. He grabbed the base of his cock and rubbed the head up and down your slit, coating the tip. You moaned and circled your hips wanting more of him. He pushed in slowly, face nestled into your neck, committing to memory every feeling he was experiencing right now.

“I love you so much, ____,” he murmured against your skin.

Your fingernails dug into the skin of his back, the other hand tangled in his hair and holding him against your chest.

“Fuck, Jungkook, oh my god.” You were gasping as he stretched you and reached places Cheol only thought he could. “I love you.”

He pressed into you further as he brought his stomach down to yours. Your legs were wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his ass trying to get him even deeper. He grunted as he began to slowly thrust into you, concentrating on not coming too soon.

You ground your hips upwards, rotating just a little with each thrust. Your hand slipped along his back as sweat formed on his skin. His breathing quickened as he thrust faster and faster. His fingers were intwined with yours, your hand on the pillow above you while his other arm was reached underneath you and holding the hair at your nape.

“F-fuck-k.” You had him stuttering as you squeezed around him. For years he wondered what you felt like, jealous of any guy you were dating but too chicken shit to ask you out himself. Now you were here, still trusting him to protect you, and giving yourself fully.

“I want you to come, baby.” He gripped your hair hard and you moaned. Your fingers tightened in his and he felt so euphoric he wouldn’t even have cared if he didn’t get to come, but you had him so hungry for you that he wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last. He released your hair to bring his hand between the two of you and pressing a couple of fingers against your clit.

You gasped loudly as he began to circle your clit slowly and then faster and faster. Your toes curled inwards and you dug yours heels even harder into him as he snapped his hips against you quickly. He skillfully moved his fingers on your clit while biting the space beneath your ear. You were seeing stars before your eyes rolled back and you were forced to close them. You could swear that your body was checking out. You felt high and Jungkook was your drug of choice. He felt you tighten around him and he could practically feel your impending orgasm.

“That’s it, baby, come on my cock. God I wanna make you feel like this forever.”

The sincerity in his voice, his cock brushing every erogenous zone there was, and his fingers sent your orgasm soaring. Electricity seemed to flow from where you were connected to your limbs where your fingers and toes tingled.

“Oh, fuck,” Jungkook breathed as he quickened his thrusts. “Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck.” His voice almost became a whine as he thrust harder and harder, hand gripping your waist, and singing praises about you against your skin.

You felt his cum as he filled you up. His moan was long and deep, thrusting, and milking himself inside of you. You were his now and he wasn’t letting you go.

When the stimulation became too much, he stilled inside of you. His breathing started to even out and soon the only sounds was your soft breathing. After a few minutes had passed and you had suspected him to be drifting, he sat up and looked down at you.

“Let me protect you,” he said softly, voice trailing off at the end.

You believed him. You relaxed for the first time in what felt like months. You could finally be yourself with no repercussions and Jungkook was adamant in making you feel as loved as possible. You tried to hold back your tears but the dam broke when he looked at you so lovingly.

“Baby, _____,” he cooed as he used his thumb to brush away a few tears.

You clung to him desperately, feeling as if he were to let go, you’d be exposed to more harm. He shifted to his side and pulled you into his chest, drawing his legs inwards to curl you even closer to him.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered. He could hear the fear laced in your tone. His heart ached and tightened in his chest.

“Never,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

It wouldn’t be easy getting you back to the carefree person he once knew, but he was willing to take the time. Being there for you had always been his focus, so a little setback was all he needed to be with you that much more. His wish was for you to get your confidence back, to see you dancing in the kitchen while making pancakes, and to see that sparkle in your eye when you looked at him. It would take time, but for you, he was willing to wait an eternity.

#ksmutclub #smutcentralnet #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #bts smut #jungkook smut #nonidol!au #tw: abuse #tw: mental abuse #bts angst #jungkook #jungkook x reader #reader insert

4K notes · View notes

let-them-read-fics · 3 years

Text

Ghostin'

Requested By @heyziggy: "Song prompt -- 'Ghostin' by Ariana Grande. Reader is dating Rosé and misses her lost lover."

Pairing: Rosé x Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~ 3,676

Warnings / Misc. -- Angst, Death, Crying, Some Cursing, Some Fluff, Happy Ending

Disclaimer: This writing is a work of fiction, and no disrespect is meant for those mentioned herein.

A/N: Did I write this between the hours of 1 and 8am? Yes, yes I did. Inspiration struck and I was able to crank this one out pretty quickly for you! I'm happy with it, and I really hope you guys enjoy it. Let me know what you think :)

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

There they are again. Those eyes that have haunted you for the past year, turning what little progress you've made to dust within a second. People say time heals all wounds, and yet that's never felt further from the truth than it does right now.

A rough tremble wracks through your body as you toss and turn, your limbs reaching out for someone that'll never be there again. She's calling out to you, her arms outstretched as she waits in vain. Your feet are rooted in their spot and no amount of effort possible can make them budge. Tears roll endlessly down your cheeks, a steady stream that feels all too real in the moment. As you scream out her name, you faintly hear your own being called; it's distant, but accompanied by a strong grip on your shoulders.

"...Y/N."

Upon jolting awake, your eyes open to find Rosé hovering over you, propping herself up on her elbow. A thin sheet of sweat has formed on your skin, and you attempt to ground yourself by looking up at her. Slowly but surely, her features overtake the ones still burning in your mind from the dream and you're able to breathe again. She brings a hand up to your cheek, brushing her cool fingers against it lovingly.

Despite the darkness, you can see the bags underneath her beautiful eyes. "I'm sorry, baby."

She simply shakes her head in response, whispering, "Shhh, it's okay. I'm here to take care of you."

In one motion, you pull her into your arms and bury your face in her neck. This isn't the first time this has happened, and you curse yourself for forcing her to grow accustomed to it. She tries to disguise how much it affects her too, but her efforts are always futile; you can read her like a book, knowing that every time that name falls from your lips in a hushed shout, her heart breaks a little more. She doesn't blame you for a second, but neither of you can deny the strain it puts on your relationship.

She adjusts the two of you so that you're laying against her as she soothingly rubs your back. Sweet words of affirmation are whispered into your ear, and the tears you've been holding back soon begin to fall. Some drop from her eyes as well, but she takes comfort in the fact that you're in her arms, allowing her to hold you. Most of the time you push her away, leaving yourself to suffer alone in some cruel form of self-punishment. But now, if only for tonight, you let yourself sink into her warm embrace.

----

1 Week Later -- The Anniversary

12 months ago, today. That's when your world shattered for the first time and everything fell apart. Your heart had been free of such pain until that fateful day, innocent and unaware that sadness like that even existed. That was the first time you ever truly questioned a higher power, baffled that any 'benevolent ruler' could steal such a bright light away from the world. Your first love -- the girl you once imagined spending forever with -- was killed in a hit and run, left to die alone on the pavement.

A majority of your youth belonged to her: the two of you grew up together, slowly falling until you had enough courage to make her yours. Countless memories were made, back when you had no idea how much they'd mean to you in the future. Life was fun with her: she made the mundane things interesting, and the adventures unforgettable. She was unashamedly herself, never stopping for a moment to give a damn about what anybody else thought of her. The two of you had each other, and that's all that really mattered. She was everything to you.

She was.

You still find her in the little things. Whether it be a commercial for her favorite cereal, a bottle of her signature perfume catching your eye as you shop, or even just a flash of her favorite color, you swear that she's still around. After spending so many years with her, it's nearly impossible to imagine her gone. She was so full of life and enthusiasm when her presence still graced the Earth that the thought of her being faded, that twinkle in her eye forever extinguished, seems like an insult to her legacy.

How are you supposed to move on from something like that? Rosé has been one of the only things keeping your head above water ever since she walked into your life, but a limit exists to what even she is capable of. After getting absolutely no closure, not even being able to see the perpetrator brought to justice, you're left to pick up the pieces. You've always been the type to deal with things on your own, finding it selfish to bring your loved ones down with the weight of your pain, but even you have to draw the line somewhere.

Perhaps that dream had been a sign -- some type of cosmic warning for what was soon to come -- because that line was crossed today.

Her family requested for you to return to your home town and celebrate her life with them. The invitation was extended to everyone she had touched before her life was taken, and even those who wished to show their support despite not having the privilege of knowing her personally. You agreed, and spent the day surrounded by people just as sad as you.

It was strange, at first; being back in the place you had so desperately tried to run from to escape the reality of what happened. But seeing all of them again reopened wounds that had never really gotten the chance to heal in the first place. Her parents' faces, so tired and troubled beneath the mask they attempted to put on, struck a chord within you. Her brother tried to be strong for them, you could tell -- but upon hearing his stifled sobs coming from upstairs, you could see how much it all still affected him. Your old friends were there as well, and their stories of your shared escapades only broke your heart more. It was a physical pain now, the once dull pinch giving way to a full blown ache. As you walked around her house, replaying all of your experiences with her, you felt empty again.

She meant so much to everyone she ever uttered a word to, and yet she was gone in the blink of an eye. You'd think that someone as incredible as her would get some sort of divine protection, if you will -- a blanket of defense against such a cruel fate. But life works in ways we don't understand, and we have to find a way to deal with that. You'd hoped returning here would help you on that quest, but you've come to learn that no one really has access to that elusive answer.

Though the day brought on the reunion of so many of you, it ended just as it had started: none of you any closer to closure. It would take time, no doubt, but you wished more than anything that the road to peace was a little shorter.

-----

Rosé

Sweet, incredible Rosé. She waltzed into your life two months after the incident. A breath of fresh air in every way, she brought light back into your life. She refused to stand by and watch as you slowly destroyed yourself, letting the walls crash down around you. She made everything secure again, successfully keeping you sane and grounded.

Falling in love with her was never something you saw coming. The emotions took their time in building up, every considerate thing she did for you adding to your list of reasons for loving her. It all accumulated until you couldn't hide it anymore, and even she could tell that she was getting through to you. Your fragile heart seemed to forget about its brokenness, because it soared at the mere sight of her.

The day she asked you to be her girlfriend was an emotional one, to say the least. You accepted without hesitation, but a nagging voice in the back of your mind suggested that being with Rosie was a treasonous act. Trying to move on felt wrong; your confused heart sent mixed signals, thinking it possible to wait for your ex's return.

But Rosie dealt with it perfectly -- better than you could have ever wished for. Not one time did she try to take your ex's place; she always respected your process and boundaries, and she never drew comparisons between your relationships. Rosé knew from the get-go that times would get rough, but she never shied away. Arguments happened, as they do with any couple, but she watched her tone and always took time to think before she spoke.

Constantly, she worked to get you to let her in. Sometimes -- rarely -- she succeeded. On the nights that you found yourself crying over her again, your heart aching like usual, Rosie was always next to you in an instant. She hated seeing you so distant and hard on yourself, and she vowed from the beginning that she would be a positive influence in your life.

------

The Birthday

2 weeks ago, Rosé had requested today off in order to be by your side. Your ex's birthday is today, and Rosé knows you'll need her more than you're willing to admit.

"Baby, wake up. Let's get some breakfast."

She rolls over to wake you with a kiss, only to find you already sitting up with tears in your eyes. She reaches up to wipe them away, but you dodge her hand before she can. That's what she can't stand. Having you push her away, effectively keeping her at arm's length, hurts her so much more than you know.

Although she's talented at reading you, truth be told Rosé has absolutely no idea how today will go. You've yet to experience a day like today -- your ex's birthday -- without her here, and even you don't know what'll happen. Your mood is capable of changing in a whipstitch, so you'll have to see how the day plays out.

"Y/N, please." Her eyes are pleading as you look at her again, and they rake over your sad features. Your bottom lip trembles as more tears threaten to overflow, and you sink your teeth into it to quiet yourself. Wordlessly, you do as she asks: you press your forehead against hers and let out a broken sigh as she strokes your arm. Her touch is comforting beyond belief, and you can't help but feel like you don't deserve it. Constantly putting her through the same shit makes you feel like a terrible person.

"You're too good to me."

She goes to shush you like always, but you don't drop it this time.

You gently scoot away from her, meeting her eyes as she mimics your actions and raises her head.

"I can see that it gets to you, Rose. I hate myself for hurting you… I just keep letting you down."

She's prepared to ease your fears from the start, not willing to get into an argument right now. "Stop, okay? I knew what I was signing up for when we started dating. I'm a big girl, Y/N. I can decide when I want to stay and when I want to go. I knew from the beginning that we would have these struggles, and none of it has made me change my mind about you."

Her words make your heart flutter, but you still have plenty on your mind to discuss with her.

"You deserve someone without so much baggage. I can't pretend like I'm not still affected by it."

"When have I ever asked you to do that?" She cocks her head to the side, quirking an eyebrow as she waits for you to respond.

"You don't have to, babe. Seeing what it does to you is confirmation enough." You shrug lightly, allowing your eyes to break away from hers for a moment as you gather up what other words you want to say.

"You'll never admit it, not to the full extent, anyway, but I know I'm hurting you. That's the last thing I want; you deserve to be with someone who makes you happy."

"Jagi, do you really think our relationship makes me unhappy? I'll admit that this isn't always easy, but no relationship is, and never once have I even thought of leaving. You seem to forget about yourself in all of this; your happiness is just as important as mine."

She chooses to ignore the self-deprecating scoff you let out at her last sentence, opting to just continue with her train of thought; convincing you to value yourself is a battle for another day.

"So please, let me in. I want us to get through this."

"I do too, baby. So so much. I just can't help but think you could find someone better. I'm a fucking charity case at this point." You drop your head now, avoiding eye contact at all costs. You know she'll be upset with you for thinking so lowly of yourself, but her disappointment almost certainly pales in comparison to the contempt you hold for yourself.

With a heavy, tired sigh, Rosé hooks two fingers underneath your chin and gently lifts your head. "Y/N, look at me. I don't know how to make it any clearer to you: you are the person I want to be with. I want you in my future, and in order to make that happen I'm more than willing to help you deal with your past. I know it's not simple; I know it's never going to be easy; but I want you. All the strings attached."

You blink at the sincerity behind her words, a bit taken aback that she's so steadfast in her decision to stay with you. You've spent so much time convincing yourself that she's only with you because she feels sorry for you that you were blind to the true extent of her love. It's consistent and unwavering, and you've never felt more valued than when you're with her. To her, you never were nor will you ever be a charity case; she loves you because you're imperfect; because you need her just as much as she needs you.

"Okay."

The simple word from you is more than enough to put Rosie at ease, and she doesn't even try to stop the smile that spreads across her cheeks as you pull her into your lap for a hug.

A light squeak from the bedsprings serves as the only sound in your room as you silently hold one another. She knows that 'okay' was your way of telling her you're ready to let her in.

"I love you." You whisper against her neck, allowing your lips to brush against her soft skin. Both of your collars are wet with tears following the emotional moment you just had, but neither of you care.

"I love you, too, baby." She returns, pressing a kiss to your temple.

After spending a moment just holding one another, communicating your emotions through light touches and kisses, you lift up onto your knees and lay her back onto the bed. She cups your cheeks, loving how they feel beneath her fingertips as you stare into her eyes. Your hands sit on either side of her torso to hold you up, keeping you in place as you smile down at her. Intimate moments like these hold a special place in her heart, and she can never get enough of them.

"I'm so afraid of losing you, Rosie. God, you have no idea how much the thought of it terrifies me." You shut your eyes now, willing away the images of a life without her.

For some reason she had never really considered that to be a cause for your unreachability before. Looking back now, it makes perfect sense; losing someone so close to you in such an unexpected way can definitely make you afraid of getting close to people again. What if you lose them, too?

"I can't predict the future, my love, but I can promise you that I'll spend the rest of my days on this Earth next to you. And I'll find you in whatever comes after, too; you're not getting away from me that easy."

The last sentence is playful, and you smirk at her lightheartedness. She knows just what to say to lighten the mood.

"You're the greatest." You say, leaning down to capture her full lips in a meaningful kiss. She hums into it, pulling you flush against her body as she flips you over.

"Oh really?" She teases, pressing feather-light kisses to your jaw. She can feel your heartbeat pick up, and she grins cockily at the effect she has on you.

"M-mhm." You mutter out with a slight stutter, tracing your hands down her body before letting them rest on her hips.

"Why don't you show me, then?" She's straddling you now, and she pulls away from your neck to gaze down into your darkening eyes.

Soon the room is filled with a high pitched squeal as you pounce, pushing her backwards until her back hits the mattress again.

"As you wish, princess." You say, giving her a little salute before kissing her again.

She smiles against your lips and lets out a joyous giggle at your antics.

-------

The Second Anniversary

"Are you ready, baby?" She asks, turning to look at you and gauge your reaction.

You let out a jagged breath, the air leaving your lungs a bit unevenly as you try to steady yourself.

With a nod, you exit the car and walk around to open Rosie's door. "Such a gentlewoman." She says, garnering a genuine smile from you. Her playful tone calms you, and you peck her lips in a sweet kiss.

"Come on, let's go inside."

At your words, she slips her hand into yours and the two of you begin your journey towards the house.

The rest of the day goes by better than you had ever imagined possible: Rosé joined conversations easily, and she offered plenty of comfort to everyone in need of it. Her presence is enough to lessen anyone's pain, but she truly showed her skills today.

Towards the end of the celebration, your ex's parents pulled you away from everyone else and into the hallway for a private word.

"We want you to come visit her, with us."

Your first instinct is to adamantly refuse, but the looks on their faces are enough to give you pause. No amount of time can make up for the loss they've had to endure, and you know they wouldn't have asked unless they really needed you there.

"Okay, we'll be there."

They pull you in for a hug, and Rosé tears up at the emotional moment. She sends you an understanding look once you eventually meet her gaze from across the room, and you give her a sad smile in return.

----

The Visit

"Hey, baby; it's us again. Everybody came by earlier and it was so nice."

"You would've loved it, baby girl. We all miss you so much."

They hold each other close as they take turns speaking to her, their voices a little stronger than you remember them being last year. Slowly but surely, they're learning to adjust to life without their daughter.

You turn your head to the side, burying your face in Rosé's hair to distract yourself from the sadness creeping in. You hadn't come back to the cemetery since her funeral, so even just standing there causes the memories to come flooding back. Rosie's grip on you is strong, and you thank her for that; without her you'd surely be a wreck by now.

A few minutes later, her parents step to the side and look over to you in a wordless request for you to say something.

"Hey, champ." You crouch down next to her tombstone, missing the way her parents smile at the old nickname you used to call each other.

"It's me. I hope you're happy up there… you deserve to be. You'd better save us some good seats." You tease, reaching up to dust some dirt off of the sleek surface of stone. The material is beginning to become rougher, you note to yourself.

"Thank you for taking such good care of Y/N. I owe you the world." Rosie smiles bittersweetly, resting her hand on your shoulder as she looks down at the picture on the tombstone.

Something -- some unmistakable force, a gut feeling -- tells you to look up. You listen to it, slowly raising your head until you can see the expanse of the cemetery in front of you. The evening sun is giving way to a breathtaking sunset, and the remaining golden rays filter in through the leaves of the tall trees overhead. A flash of brown hair catches your eye, and you almost gasp at what you see.

There she is.

Your ex -- well, more specifically, the ghost of her -- stands amidst the tree line that borders the property. She raises a hand up to wave at you, offering a peaceful smile as she glances between Rosie and you. You smile your own lopsided grin at her, and soon after, she fades away completely.

Inconspicuously, you look up at her parents. They have a knowing look on their face as you stand up and loop an arm around Rosé's waist, pulling her in close to rest your forehead against hers. She kisses your cheek before using her finger to poke the soft surface adorably.

"Ya know," her father starts, pulling your attention away from your girlfriend.

"She visits us too, sometimes." He finishes with a smile.

A content feeling settles within your chest at his words, and you let out a soft sigh.

She always was a sucker for happy endings.

267 notes · View notes

dustofbrokenheart · 3 years

Text

The Covenant: Presents and Kisses

Reid Garwin x Reader

Word Count: 1,858

Summary: It’s reader’s birthday and Reid has some surprises up his sleeve. Dedicated to the lovely @saviorsong. Happy Birthday!

The café was a small, single room operation so sound from both the dining area and the kitchen traveled throughout. And everyone heard when your boyfriend came out of the bathroom, throwing the door open with such force that a bang rang out from where it hit the wall.

The poor barista almost dropped a drink they were making out of surprise.

“Babe, that was the biggest shit I’ve taken this month,” Reid practically shouted as he made his way back to the table.

You didn’t bother to acknowledge that particular comment and kept your attention on Tyler who had also tagged along with you guys. It was better to not entertain poop talk seeing as how you were in public.

“Babe! Did you hear what I said?”

“I think everyone did,” you replied pointedly. He dropped into his chair, hands clutching at his stomach.

You continued chatting with Tyler about a class you were taking and Reid still kept fidgeting and groaning. He was normally dramatic but he was really hamming it up.

You turned to him with a raised brow. That was all it took for him to increase his complaining.

“I think it was the food. It’s gotta be food poisoning, I feel so sick.”

“But we ate from the same plate.”

A glance at the table showed a shared plate that had long been eaten with not a drop of sauce left on the it after you both had all but cleaned the dish. If he actually had food poisoning, shouldn’t you be feeling it too? Your stomach felt perfectly fine, if not satisfied.

“Everyone reacts differently to these things, you know.”

Tyler nodded seriously, corroborating Reid’s claim. Those two were thicker than thieves, always ready to back each other up.

“No telling how bad this could get. I’m gonna head home but you should stay, Ty can hang out with you,” he said.

“Really?” Your tone was colored with incredulously. “Today of all days?”

He completely ignored that and bent down for a kiss. You were extremely tempted to turn away but ended up giving in. Reid may be an idiot, but he was your idiot. Keeping up with the sick-as-a-dog routine, he gingerly hobbled out of the café.

And since he was your idiot, you knew something was definitely up. You didn’t claim to be the smartest person around but Reid wasn’t exactly subtle.

Immediately, your attention turned towards Tyler. If one was plotting, then the other would know.

The brunette raised his hands as if to keep things peaceful. “Okay, okay. Don’t be upset.”

“It’s my birthday and my man just ran out under suspicious circumstances. I have every right to be annoyed.”

“Exactly! You’re the reason why he left!” He paused for an awkward second. “Wow. That came out totally wrong. What I mean is that he’s setting up something nice for you.”

“He is?” you asked suddenly touched.

Reid was a romantic sort. Maybe not always so smooth about it, but a romantic nonetheless. And he did do things for you often, even if a good number of things were in an attempt to apologize for something stupid he did, but he had never done a birthday surprise.

Well, not one where he had kept it a surprise for this long. Normally he couldn’t keep quiet about his plans so you were a bit impressed that you hadn’t noticed until his terrible acting just then.

Tyler nodded again, this time in excitement. “Yep. He needs a few hours to get it ready though…we can either stay here or walk around. Your birthday, your choice.”

His methods may be, well, unconventional, but your heart beat a little faster knowing he was planning something. Your mind wandered, thinking up various possibilities. Two hours couldn’t go by fast enough.

***

It ended up being close to six o’clock before you returned home.

You closed the door gently and toed your shoes off. The quietness seemed that much thicker with anticipation weighing heavily.

A trail of rose petals wound around the living room and trailed down the hallway, presumably to the bedroom, but you got distracted by a tantalizing aroma.

You followed that into the kitchen instead and found a skillet filled with something delicious. Other bowls with other fantastic side dishes were arranged randomly around it on the countertops.

And then you noticed the cake. Unlike the others, the cake was displayed on the table, a package of candles lying next to it. You walked closer to get a better view and couldn’t the grin hat spread across your face.

Clearly, he had made the cake himself. Not that that was off-putting to you in any way. It was really quite cute.

He had made a small two-layer cake which in of itself didn’t look too bad. The sides were not traditionally frosted so, the parts that were visible, you could see that the shape and the softness looked about right. Kind of.

In lieu of normal frosting, he had attempted to coat them with a crumb frosting of some sort. Despite his best effort, the crumbs didn’t hadn’t spread evenly with some parts having barely any and others having too much.

It looked like he also had issues with the frosting on top. You guessed that he had tried to apply it while the cake was still warm because it was thinner than it should have been, almost glaze-like. Some had even started to leak over the sides before it was cool enough to harden up again.

Even with flaws, it was still the sweetest, frumpiest birthday cake you could ever remember someone making for you.

You stuck out a finger trying to taste the crumb coat when you felt a sharp smack to your ass.

“Oww!” Rubbing it, you saw Reid standing behind you with a towel in his hand. “Did you really just spank me with a towel?”

“It’s not time for cake yet,” he said. He was shirtless, tattoos on display, baggy cargo pants riding low on his hips. There was a hint of tiredness in his eyes but it was mostly irritation. “This part was for last. You were supposed to follow the roses first.”

Ah. He was irritated that you messed up the plan. But you were so excited to see what else he had in store that you didn’t answer back with a sharp quip of your own. “Then lead the way.”

With a sigh, he put his hands on your shoulders and walked you out of the kitchen. His grip was gentle though so you knew he wasn’t seriously frustrated with you.

The path of rose petals came back into view and you realized they were from a real flower and not plastic. A warm feeling spread through you and it only grew the closer the closer the path drew you to the bedroom. Reid stayed just behind you the whole way, your gentle guide.

“The flowers are beautiful, Reid.”

“I know. And a normal person would’ve followed them from the start.”

“Sorry,” you giggled. “The food all looked really good though. Three Michelin stars across the board.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just open the door, would ya?”

You pushed the door with your fingers, thoughts racing. What were you going to find? That fancy stationary set you’d been eyeing online? A fluffy, tail-wagging puppy? A chest of kinky toys?

With Reid it could any one of the three. Maybe even all three.

Tons of balloons were inflated and rolling around the floor, so much so that you had to kick a few out of the way to be able to step in. Even a birthday banner hung over the bed when he had thumbtacked it into the wall.

But the gift was unmistakable.

The large woven basket was sitting on the dresser, fibers dyed your favorite color was hard to miss.

Then came the stuff that was practically overflowing from said basket. You rummaged through it like a old woman at a yard sale, pulling out something new with every handful.

Jewelry. A soft blanket. Cans of your favorite type of drink. Hand painted ceramics. Some hard cover additions you’d been meaning to add to your personal library. New head phones. Dozens of origami creatures. A tee from your favorite team. Coffee mugs and several blends of beans. Hand-held tools to replace your old ones with. And not only a stationary set but a wax letter stamp seal as well.

And everything from the basket to the last gift followed the same theme: it was all in your favorite color.

You jumped into his arms and he caught you. “I’m—this is…this is…”

“What?” he said, his breath tickling your ear and fingers gripping your thighs tightly. “Impressive? Inspiring? The best goddamn gift you’ve ever seen?”

“Touching,” you whispered.

You couldn’t see it, but you could sense the soft expression on his face.

“How did you even manage to find some of this stuff in this color?”

“It wasn’t easy, let me tell you…”

He went on explaining how he started with the just the stationary (you were right and he had noticed you looking at it) in your favorite color.

Then he added the headphones, also in your favorite color.

Then he’d painted the ceramic pieces himself.

Eventually thinking up even more potential presents to get, he’d come up with the idea to do everything in that color. The tools were the hardest but he was very proud that he’d been able to pull it off with the help of a custom order from a local business.

“This is super touching. Thanks for putting in this much thought and effort,” you said finally lifting your head up to give him a kiss.

It was meant to be a quick peck but Reid’s lips followed yours when you tried to pull back, turning it into something more passionate. He even managed to lick his way into your mouth before you finally parted, panting for air.

“Mmm,” he breathed, lips back on yours. “You’re eager to get to the next event.”

You made a confused sound in your throat which he swallowed. One of his hands traveled up your leg and over your hip to come to a rest on your lower back. He turned you and that’s when you noticed the bed.

The comforter was already pulled slightly down and more rose petals were scattered all around. He laid you down on the mattress and prowled up your body. The petals were even more fragrant now that you were closer to them.

“What’s the next event?” you asked coyly although it wasn’t hard to guess.

“One kiss for every year you’ve been alive,” he said with a cocked smile. “It was either that many kisses or that many orgasms—I figured all those orgasms might be too much for you though.”

You bit his bottom lip and snuck your fingers under the waistband of his cargo pants suggestively. “How about both?”

He watched in rapture as you removed your shirt, eyes glued to your chest.

“Anything for you, babe. Happy Birthday.”

_______________

Yay! Thanks for reading. I hope this was alright.

In my mind, Reid is the type of romantic to make you things, hence the food, origami, and ceramics. But sensual time will also be included just because.

Honestly, he probably heard what Caleb did for his s/o and, in typical competitive fashion, decided he could do better. He roped in Tyler to keep reader distracted and spent a few hours cooking, decorating, and assembling the massive personalized gift basket.

They likely did reach fulfill the birthday kiss count but how many orgasms they managed to achieve is up to your imagination.

#the covenant #reid garwin #reid garwin x reader #the covenant imagines

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formenis · 3 years

Text

From knight to detective

Anon asked: “ Can you do a scenario of L having a relationship with reader and she doesn't know that he is L and she is part of the Task Force that show up to meet L and she is unprepared for finding out he is L and when he talks to her privately he tells her everything“.

A/N: sure thing, dear. Gosh, I’m not capable of sum up...I always write too much eheh. I have to remind you English is not my first language so I apologise for the mistakes you’ll find for sure.

pairing: L x FBI agent!fem!reader

warnings: nope

requested: yes

F/P = favourite painter

S/C = skin colour

It all started during the "Wara Ningyo Murders" or -as police knew it- the "Los Angeles BB Serial Murder Cases". Y/N and Naomi Misora were friends back in the States, both of them were skilful and quite cherished in the FBI headquarters. The resulting capture of the murderer of this case helped launch Naomi's reputation within the FBI.

«So how was working with the best detective alive?» Y/N and her friend Naomi were drinking a coffee together in one of their rare spare moments far from work.

«I don’t know if I can talk about it, Y/N» Naomi replied with a sympathetic smile.

«Oh come on! At least what his voice sounds like»

«Again, I don’t know. He used voice changers during our calls. But!» she said with enthusiasm and Y/N frowned in confusion. «I met someone you would like»

«Who?»

That was when Y/N met "Ryuzaki", an enigmatic and mysterious young man who had the hobby of solving cases like private or consulting detectives. Since Y/N was a FBI agent and Ryuzaki a private detective, they would meet many times in crime scenes. The young agent felt like she was Dr. Watson and Ryuzaki was Sherlock Holmes: he would theorize many possible scenarios for the above-mentioned case and Y/N listened to him in disbelief. But Ryuzaki was not the sole smart one, Y/N had a shrewd mind too: her unique methods of investigation and her strong power of observation made her one of the best FBI agents. That was why Ryuzaki started to request her presence and assistance more often.

«Good evening, Miss L/N»

«Ryuzaki! I told you to call me Y/N. There's no need for such formalities» she chuckled quietly, the two of them were on a crime scene again.

«I apologise, force of habit I guess» Ryuzaki played with his pale lips using the thumb. Y/N understood Ryuzaki's way of communicating with his body: if he played with his lips (like he was doing in that moment) it meant he was deep in through; if he stared emotionless at something, it meant he was bothered by something; or if he ate more sweets than usual it meant that the investigations were in a turning point and his brain needed more "fuel". That was easy for Y/N to understand those things, it was her job after all.

«What are you thinking of, Ryuzaki?»

The young man seemed surprised. «Ah, it seems I don’t have secrets for you, Y/N»

She chuckled again. «Nope»

Y/N couldn’t know it but she was wrong. Terribly wrong. However, as time passed the two of them grew quite closer. Not only because of work but because they somehow matched each other. Very often Y/N would move up Ryuzaki in many things, they would think the same thing and they worried for each other during difficult and risky cases. Soon enough Y/N started to develop feeling for that weird, clever boy but she didn’t know it the feelings were mutual. Ryuzaki seemed without emotions as if nothing touched him. Even in the most terrible crime scene he would not be that shocked as anybody else.

Unaware of Y/N, there was a very simple explanation for that attitude of his: Ryuzaki was feeling overwhelmed. He was very good at not showing it but the truth was that something changed in him. At first he treated Y/N as a common FBI agent, neither kind not bad. Their relationship was purely linked to work. But then week after week, case after case, Y/N dusted a forgotten trait of his personality.

«Agent Y/N, would you like to join me in an exhibit? I heard from Miss Misora you like F/P»

«But it is private, Ryuzaki. You have to have the tickets»

«It just so happens that I have two tickets with me. The senior manager is a friend of mine»

«Really?» Y/N said surprised. «I would love to, Ryuzaki!»

Ryuzaki smiled in seeing such happiness in his cute FBI agent. The exhibit would be the perfect chance to understand if what he felt for Y/N was mutual.

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

Ah, the exhibit. Such a wonderful place. Y/N loved everything about it: the guide, the paintings and Ryuzaki's company of course. Moreover, it was the exhibit of F/P, Y/N's best artist. She was in bliss.

Once the guide ended the tour, the guesses could roam around the place to have a better look at each artwork. Ryuzaki expressed his approval to a specific painting, a still life to be precise. And when he noticed Y/N liked it too he started to describe the history of the said painting.

His voice enchanted Y/N. So deep despite Ryuzaki's young age and extremely alluring. She would listen to him for hours if it was possible. Y/N was so focused in it that she didn’t noticed Ryuzaki asked her something.

«Uh? What did you say?»

«I said, Y/N…are you enjoying the evening?» Ryuzaki was sitting in front of that still life in his usual position, with the legs pressed the chest. Y/N was beside him.

«Yes, a lot. Thank you Ryuzaki» she smiled kindly at him and it forced the young detective to look away. Then he started to play nervously with his lips. «Something is bothering you?»

«I have a confession to make, Y/N»

Oh dear, no. At that phrase, Y/N started to panic. Was he tired of her company? Did she do something wrong? Did he want to stop working together? So many questions span inside Y/N's mind.

«Yes?» she tried to stay as much calm as possible, hoping her voice would not betray her.

«We met a while ago and I have to admit I really appreciate your presence. Both as an agent and as a person. I would like to become closer to you, if you agree» he turned to look at her. His black eyes were much gentler than usual, his look full of…happiness? Y/N couldn’t tell.

She blushed, her face was as red as the apples in the still life painted in front of them. She noticed that Ryuzaki extended a hand waiting for her answer. «Of course, Ryuzaki»

Y/N put her hand over his and he kissed on the hand gently. This made Y/N blush even more, now she was truly one of those red apples.

And with that, they set off the beginning of their relationship. Outside work Ryuzaki was a really romantic person: he would rub Y/N's shoulders (he was really good with massages); he would play with her silky H/C hair while thinking or he would simply listen to her after a stressful day at work.

«You can call me whenever you want. Even if there's no reason to, Y/N» and «I like how your hands fit perfectly in mines» were the most romantic things Y/N heard from Ryuzaki. She even wrote them down in her personal agenda.

More time passed and December 2003 came fast. For some time now, criminals from all around the would were dying of heart attacks at an unprecedented rate and all law enforcements were concerned and scared but this. Thanks to some colleagues, Y/N learnt that the greatest detective L was mentioned in one of the many Interpol meetings.

L was considered the best detective in the world. He solved the most complex of cases, even ones that were considered unsolvable. The problem was that nobody knows who L was. And if they existed. According to Naomi Misora they were real and this L was worth their title. It was in that moment that Y/N made a decision: as a FBI agent, she would take part at that case. In Japan, people started to call the main responsible of these killings "Kira" and she couldn’t wait to start the investigations.

«Ryu, I have to tell you something…»

«What is it, Y/N?»

They were on the phone, as often happened when the two of them had work up to their necks.

«I applied for the Kira case. I want to be a part of the task-force»

Silence.

For five minutes neither of them dared to speak. Y/N was waiting for an answer, she was chewing nervously her lips. After a while she heard a sigh.

«Y/N, it's dangerous. It's better if you stay in the States»

«But Ryuzaki! I want to be helpful! You know I can't stay here while there's some mad serial killer around the world that kills with the force of their mind»

«Y/N, such things don’t exist»

«Don’t change the topic, Ryu»

Again, silence. Y/N bet Ryuzaki was playing with his lips as much as she was chewing hers. She knew he was worried for her but she couldn’t stay at home doing nothing. She had to do something.

«Please, Y/N. Consider it again. The Kira case is too much…»

«Ryu, I'm a decorated FBI agent, I can take care of myself. You don’t need to worry»

For the third time, the call fell silent. Ryuzaki was thinking for sure, Y/N could hear the soft sound of him chewing his thumb. «Promise me you'll be careful» he interrupted the silence with his usual emotionless voice.

«Of course I will»

This allowed Y/N to fly to Japan more lightweight knowing Ryuzaki was by her side despite the distance. But another big event was waiting for her: the first meeting with L.

♰ TIME SKIP ♰

After many ordeals (like the death of Y/N's friend Naomi Misora), the main Japanese task-force against Kira was formed: Soichiro Yagami, Touta Matsuda, Hirokazu Ukita, Hideki Ide, Shuichi Aizawa and Kanzo Mogi. And of course Y/N L/N. It was New Year's Eve when the task-force received a message from L:

"I would like to meet the seven of you who have my trust as soon as possible. Do not speak of our meeting, or having met me, or what we will be doing, to anyone who is not in the room now.

Please leave the NPA building to discuss whether you can swear to the above, and whether you can trust me. Only those who agree to work with me in this investigation shall return to the room, and I will send my further conditions for our meeting to this computer."

That was it! The moment Y/N was waiting for a long time! As L explained in other notes left in the laptop, the entire task-force arrived at a luxury hotel where they knocked at the door of a room and were asked to enter. They were about to meet L.

"Oh gosh I'm so nervous!" Y/N though while staying behind the rest of the task-force. Her heart was racing fast and she couldn’t hide the excitement. We were talking about the greatest detective alive after all.

"I wonder…who gave them that title?"

Pink wall-to-wall carpeting, beige couches with red pillows and luxurious black doors. That was the aspect of L's room. From where Y/N was standing she could only see the furniture of that room but she petrified when she heard his voice.

«I am L»

Y/N went pale in one second. The excitement was soon replaced by fear and later by anger. But she had to be sure, she needed to see him. Maybe Y/N missed Ryuzaki to such a point that she heard his voice everywhere.

No, there must be something else. Ryuzaki's voice was too unique and peculiar to be confused with another one. There must be him for sure. And once Y/N made her way through those men, she had the certainty that she had Ryuzaki in front of her.

«Please turn off your cell phones, laptops, and any other electronic equipment you may have, and place them on the table first»

«You think we might have our cell phones on talk mode so someone outside could monitor our conversation…?» Aizawa asked quite annoyed.

"No, he hates when phones rings if he is talking…" Y/N though while doing as L said. She had to maintain a professional attitude despite she was boiling inside. She wanted to cry but to punch Ryuzaki at the same time.

«It's not that. I can't stand it when someone's cell phone rings when I'm talking» the detective replied while "sitting" in one of those fancy armchairs. «But before discussing about the case, I would rather have a talk with agent L/N in private»

The task-force moved in another part of room so Y/N and Ryuzaki would be alone. Silence filled the room, an anger and disappointed silence to be precise. They were still wearing their professional masks.

«Why didn’t you tell me…» Y/N was the first to give in. Her hands were curled into fists, the way her body tremble suggested rage or a desperate effort not to cry. L was aware Y/N was going to lose control if he didn’t explain himself.

«I couldn’t Y/N…you know very well I couldn’t»

«Of course you can! It costs nothing, Ryuzaki. Just few words!» that was it, Y/N lost control.

«What should I have said then? Something like "Hello I'm L, the greatest detective in the world and I think I developed strong feelings for you"» Y/N was going to answer back but L interrupted her by raising the index. «Everything about L is dangerous. My words, my actions, my presence…they all are dangerous for other people. That's why I work alone, Y/N»

«But you weren’t alone when we worked together» now sadness was taking place in Y/N's mind instead of anger. She felt so betrayed.

«It was different back then, Y/N. They were simple cases, neither me nor you were in danger. But this case…Kira is the symbol of danger and injustice, Y/N. I don’t want you to be involved»

«I'm already involved, Ryuzaki. And like it or not, I'm going to the bottom of this» the young FBI agent replied with determination but hot tears started to form on her eyes, clouding partially her sight. «I just…wanted you to be sincere with me» those tears fell over her smooth S/C cheeks.

L, seeing that scene in front of him, felt very bad for his Y/N. That was why he didn’t want her to be involved: he couldn’t bare crying people. But not because he hated them but because he didn’t know what to do, how to soothe that suffering. And the sight of Y/N crying in front of him broke his heart.

He stood up and walked closer to Y/N. And when he hugged her she gasped loudly, meaning she didn’t notice him approaching her. She stopped crying, yes, but sadness was still there.

«I…I'm sorry Y/N. My only intent was to protect you. I know you don’t need a knight in shining armour but when this case came out I knew I had to do something. Maybe you would hate me for the rest of your life but if it meant you would live it was alright. So please…realise there wasn’t malice in my actions»

Y/N hugged him back, smelling the sweet scent of his white shirt. The warmth of his body and the heartbeat were so calming, sadness melted in a matter of seconds. They stood there for entire minutes not moving, just appreciating each other presence.

«You're right, I don’t need a knight in shining armour…I want a detective in a white shirt»

L chuckled and that sound sent chills down Y/N's spine. Gosh, she missed that sound.

«Here I am»

«Do not keep secrets from me, Ryu»

«Never again»

#death note #l lawliet #death note scenario #death note headcanons #x reader #reader insert #x you #x y/n #naomi misora #l x reader #l x you #l x y/n

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