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sunrisefairy · 3 years

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My muse

Pairing: Art student!Sirius x reader Warning: NSFW! MDNI 18+, swearing, fingering, unprotected sex, if I’ve forgotten anything please let me know! Summary: Sirius is struggling with an art assignment until he finds inspiration in his girlfriend. Or the one when Sirius and reader bang on a canvas. A/N: wrote this for @anxiousblanketqueen writing challenge, I had a lot of fun with this one Jill so I hope you enjoy it too. Based of the prompt Art Sex. This article is helpful with visualising the art work!

Taglist: if you’re crossed out i couldn’t tag you @theweasleyslut @anxiousblanketqueen @accioweaslcy @widowdays @inglourious-imagines @garbdump @star-sunshine-sage @weelittleweasley @a-dusty-emerald @starlightkell @omghufflepuff @weasleysprincess @j-amespotter @gryffindorgirl To be added to the taglist click here

“Oh my god this is fucking bullshit!” Sirius groans before throwing his paint brush, it landing with a clatter on the hardwood floor of his art studio.

You hear all the commotion from the kitchen and decided to check in on your boyfriend. It was nearing the end of the term and Sirius had been very agitated and snappy from all the stress.

“You okay babe?” you poke your head through the door to see Sirius standing in the middle of the room, practically death staring a half-finished painting resting on one of his wooden easels.

“Fucking bullshit,” your boyfriend mumbles, clenching and unclenching his paint stained hands.

You slowly walk up to him and wind your arms around his waist and kissing his back through his white cotton t-shirt, “wanna talk to me about it?” you whisper.

Sirius twists in your grip until he’s facing you allowing you to get a good look at him; his shoulders are tense, his jaw clenched tightly from the pressure of school and his eyebrows are furrowed which has become a regular facial expression of him the past few weeks. You reach your hand up and delicately trace the worry lines in his forehead. Sirius immediately relaxes at your touch; his faces becomes more natural and his shoulders slump. Since dating Sirius you’ve come to understand how much he struggles to talk about his feelings. He doesn’t like dumping his problems on those around him as it makes him feel like a burden. So you try your best to be patient with him and always remind him you’ll be here no matter what.

“Just stressed about school,” Sirius murmurs his eyes looking down at the floor between your bodies.

You let your hand fall down to his shoulders, lightly squeezing, “yeah? What about school?”

Sirius’ hands find their way under the t-shirt you’re wearing which evidently is one of his that you’ve stolen, he lets his fingers trace patterns on your warm skin. “Just this one assignment is making me go insane. Can’t seem to get it right.” He gestures to the canvas sitting in the middle of the room.

If you’re being honest, anything Sirius paints leaves you memorised and evokes numerous emotions from you. You are constantly telling your boyfriend how talented he is and every time he’ll roll his eyes at your compliment. “I think it looks amazing babe,” you state truthfully.

To no surprise, Sirius rolls his eyes at your comment. “yes, well you have to say that ‘cos you’re my girlfriend.”

Sirius leaves your embrace and walks back over to the painting, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning so intensely you think laser beam might shoot from his eyes and through this artwork. He starts mumbling again, irritation is laced thickly on his words, “representation of raw love,” he mocks, “what a load of utter crap. My professor is so pretentious, the only instruction he gives us for this stupid bloody assignment is ‘make a piece which represents raw love’ what does that even mean? I’ll tell you what it is, it’s fucking bullshit.”

You shuffle closer to Sirius so you’re standing at his side, both staring at his current piece. You’re not really sure how to help, you’re no artist but you hate seeing Sirius so worked up. “What are other people in your class doing for the assignment? Maybe you can gather inspiration from them?”

Sirius shrugs and stuffs his hands in his dark jeans which are covered in paint splatters, “Kirra’s doing a photography piece of her husband and kids, Gage is making some sculpture of his dog.”

“Alright,” you pause for a brief moment “well maybe think of ways people show love or how you show love, like real emotional love ya’know?” you feel like you’re grasping at straws here and making up some bullshit.

You glance over at Sirius, he’s biting his bottom lip deep in thought, you stay silent not really knowing what else to say to assist him. Slowly a look of realisation washes over your boyfriend’s face, eyes wide and a grin gracing his lips. “Holy shit baby, you’re a genius!”

Butterflies erupt deep in your belly from the praise and you giggle when Sirius starts peppering your face with tiny kisses to show his gratitude. Eventually he connects your lips together in what you thought would be a short but sweet kiss. However, you squeak in surprise when Sirius quickly deepens the kiss, his hands gripping tightly at your waist before slowly moving them down to grope at your arse.

“You should probably get working on your project then Sirius,” you breathe against his mouth, disappointed to stop things before they get too heated but you know Sirius’ inspiration comes and goes in waves and if you wait until after the two of you get off, then he might fall back into feeling unmotivated again.

“I am working on it,” you pull away confusion all over your face.

“What do you mean?” you query.

Sirius chuckles and moves away from you to move the canvas and easel to the edge of the room out of the way, he starts laying out a large piece of cream canvas fabric on the floor. “Think about it, what’s a way people show love?” he asks you, squirting numerous colours of paint carelessly onto the fabric.

“Babe there’s a lot of way people show love,” you answer puzzled, what did making out with you have to do with his piece? And why was he now squirting colours onto a blank canvas.

Sirius continues, “yes I know that but what about a raw, emotional way people show love? a primal way to show love so to speak?”

When you finally look back up at Sirius’ face you’re met with a cheeky smirk that you know all too well. It’s not until he removes his shirt do you connect the dots. “Sirius I’m not letting you fuck me on this canvas for a university project for god’s sake.”

The raven-haired boy’s grin only widens as he slowly moves closer to you, his eyes burning into your skin. You feel hot and vulnerable under his gaze, it’s like he’s stalking his prey. Your breath hitches in your throat when Sirius’ body is pressed flush against your own and you can feel his hot breath fanning your face as he speaks in a low, hushed tone, “I’m not going to fuck you,” his voice drops an octave like it does when he’s feeling horny. Just the tone of his voice alone causes a wetness to pool in your panties. “Wanna make love to you baby. Wanna show you how much I love you, can I do that darlin’?”

You bite your lip trying to swallow the moan that is threatening to spill from your mouth when Sirius starts leaving sloppy kisses on your neck. Damn Sirius Black for knowing all your weak spots.

“Just want to make you feel good baby girl,” he tugs the off t-shirt your body. “Can I do that? Can I make you feel good?”

You close your eyes and focus on Sirius’ large hands cupping and massaging your breasts tenderly, you always were putty in his hands. Fuck it you thought. “Yes, please make love to me Sirius.”

The boy grins and whispers a thank you against your skin. He takes no time in removing both of your clothes until you’re standing in front of each other naked. You and Sirius take the opportunity to study each other. You gaze over all the curves and lines on Sirius’ body, the way his muscle flex and move, the freckle on his hip bone, the tiny scar on his left shoulder, the coarse hair of his happy trail. He was beautiful, stunning, breathtaking. And he was all yours.

Sirius helps you lay down against the canvas, you gasp at the cold, squishy feeling of the paint beneath you. It feels foreign but not unwelcoming, you wriggle a little, enjoying the way the substance slides around. Sirius kneels between your legs, relishing in the way your chest is already rising and falling frantically from arousal, “so gorgeous darlin,” he traces a finger down from your collar bone all the way to your core finding it soaked already.

You squirm when Sirius teases your entrance with his finger, the cold paint moving and mixing into the canvas under you. A quiet whine escapes your lips the moment Sirius pushes his index finger inside you and starts pumping it steadily.

“Need you to be loud for me baby, want to know how good I make you feel ‘kay?” Sirius commands trying to get into a comfortable position in between your spread legs, his body sliding slighting from the paint.

You answer him with a loud moan. Soon Sirius has added 2 more fingers into the mix causing you to wriggle and rock your hips into his hand, “so good Sirius, fuck.”

With his free hand, Sirius grips your thigh trying to keep you still, blue paint smears against the soft flesh of your thigh and Sirius is captured by how striking you look laying here right now, chest flushed, and eyes closed. The way your body is squirming from pleasure is causing the paint on the canvas to blend and mix together. Sirius scoops up some red paint from the fabric and swipes it across your breasts and over your nipples, “so pretty.” He mumbles tugging and pinching your nipples.

“Sirius,” you pant desperately, “please. Need more.”

Sirius withdraws his fingers earning a whine from you and strokes his cock a few times before lining it up with your entrance, “shh darlin’. M’here to make you feel good, yeah? Want me to make you feel good?”

You wrap your legs around him urging him to finally push into you. You needed it, needed to feel Sirius stretch you out and fill you up with his cock, needed to hear Sirius gasp and groan into your ear, needed to feel him rock his hips into yours, “please Sirius.”

With a low groan escapes from both of you when Sirius finally pushes into you, Sirius begins thrusting his hips deep and slow into yours, both of your relishing in the feeling and sensation coursing your bodies. Hands around running along the others body, squeezing, tugging, scratching at skin, leaving traces of paint in its wake. Sirius has buried his head in the crook of your neck, his hair tickling your cheek, mumbling how beautiful you look spread out for him.

Deeper, you need it deeper. Wrapping your legs tightly around your boyfriend, you manage to roll the two of you over, Sirius underneath you with you straddling his waist, allowing you to bounce of his cock. From this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, his hard cock prodding at that sponging spot inside of you. The pure affection and love the two of you feel for each other was unmistakeable in this moment. The tenderness and intimacy of this act made your toes tingle and heart warm in your chest.

Continuing to bounce up and down on Sirius cock, you take a second to watch the boy below you, the only word seemingly fitting to describe him was angelic. His dark locks are sprawled out around the canvas, a mixture of red, blue and purple paint framing his body as well as splotches on his skin. His eyes are trained on yours, a look set in them that you’ve come to be familiar with, undying love.

You lower your head to connect your lips together, wanting-no needing to feel close, to feel connected.

“I love you,” you mumble breathlessly against Sirius’ pink lips. You feel that familiar euphoric sensation creeping up on you, Sirius’ cock hitting your g-spot every time you lower your body.

Sirius’ grips your waist tight and firmly, his own hips slamming up into you, “I love you too baby, so much.” He can feel your pussy clenching around him, he watches the way your breasts bounce between your bodies, he reaches his head forward to latch his mouth onto your nipple, sucking and licking on the sensitive bud. The noises slipping from your mouth makes his cock twitch.

“Sirius,” you pant threading your fingers through his dark hair to keep him close to your body.

Your body feels like it’s on fire and ready to combust, your legs trembling, and you know you won’t last much longer with the way Sirius is suckling at your nipple and he knows it.

“Want you to cum for me darlin, be my good girl and cum on my cock,” he groans into your breast, sucking and licking at your salty skin.

The coil in the pit of your belly snaps and with a load high pitched whine you’re releasing all over Sirius’ cock, your pussy clenching and legs shaking from the stimulation. After your release, it only takes Sirius a few more thrusts until he’s following suit, his load shooting and filling you up, a string of I love you’s tumbling from both of your mouths.

You collapse onto Sirius’ chest, neither of you make any effort to move even once your breathing has settled. Laying here with Sirius made you feel safe and protected. The way his index finger was trailing up and down your spine made you shiver, and you could feel him kissing your scalp gently. Undeniably, there was love radiating from his body, you could feel it and you only hope he could feel it radiating from yours too.

~~~

“Hey guys, that painting hanging up in the bedroom is new, yeah?” James questions, traipsing back into the living room where the rest of the group was.

You feel a heat rise in your cheeks when you realise which painting the bespectacled boy is referring too. Sirius nods pulling you tighter into his side.

“Did you paint that one Pads?” Remus asks. Most, if not all the artwork displayed in yours and Sirius’ home was created by him. It normally took a bit of persuading Sirius to let you hang up his work, he didn’t like to come across as cocky. But as soon as this canvas was dried and stretched onto a frame Sirius wasted no time in mounting it; above your shared bed, him claiming it ‘gets him in the mood whenever he looks at it’ (and he really wasn’t lying).

The boy beside you grins and plants a sloppy kiss against your cheek, “me and Y/N painted that one,” he says teasingly.

You shoot him a death glare warning him to keep his big mouth shut. “Don’t,” you mouth.

“That’s so cool! Didn’t know you were so artistic Y/N!” James exclaims excitedly, clearly impressed by the painting.

Sirius chuckles loudly pinching your side making you yelp, “oh she’s very talented when he comes to that type of stuff. I think we might need to make another piece together babe, what do you think?”

#JTR23 #Sirius Black #Sirius Black smut #Sirius Black x reader #Sirius Black x you #Sirius Black imagine #Sirius Black imagines #smut

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violettelueur · 3 years

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— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE EIGHT || BOREDOM

↳ featuring : fushiguro megumi + kugisaki nobara + gojo satoru + zenin maki + inumaki toge + panda + aoi todo + zenin mai + miwa kasumi + gakuganji yoshinobu (mentions of itadori yuji + ieiri shoko) from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of violence + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 02 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 5.8k

↳ synopsis : within the jujutsu world, there were three famous clans to be aware of, the Kamo clan, Zenin clan and the Gojo clan. However, unknown to many sorcerers there was one last family that was known to be apart of the three, only for them to disappear after the golden era leading some to speculate that they had died in battle after the sealing of ryomen sukuna, but....

↳ previous episode : assault

↳ next episode : small fry and reverse retribution

↳ barista’s notes : hi there everyone! right now i know i haven’t been the most active i have been but i really thankful on how patient you all are ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆ my procrastination has reach a new all time high since my birthday is on saturday and i am dreading becoming 18 because that means i will be a legal adult and i also have exams soon...ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ moving on from that, i hope you all enjoys today’s episode!

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5 for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique

no cursed spells used this episode...

but the little flick that Y/N does is inspired from this video here

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“You really need to stop with your assaults Gojo,” Fushiguro stated, as he pressed his index and middle finger on the middle of his forehead, as he remembered the pain that came along with your flick as well as complaining about the side head slap he had gained from you.

“Nah, you just got to stop asking stupid questions Fushiguro,” you commented back before asking Kugisaki want she was planning to get.

‘So make sure you’re not alone in this world like I am Y/N, I want you to be happy even when we’re both stuck with this burden!’

‘I’m trying mother,’ you thought, as you tightly gripped your phone that was still in your pocket.

ꕥ

“I never really thought you were the type that would go to the beach,” you commented, as you leisurely walked towards the calm ocean with a pair of arms wrapped around yours (that was holding your shoes) since your mother wanted to walk side by side with you to enjoy this tranquil moment together.

“I never thought that about myself either, but it’s better to be surprised then going back to the city again, is it not?” your mother asked with a let out a gentle laugh before instantly halting the moment you both felt the warm water covering your bare feet.

“I guess so,” you stated before using your other arm to partly cover your face due to the sunlight brightly blinding your eyes. However, it seemed like where your mother was standing wasn’t causing her too much irritation - maybe it wasn't as bright from where she was.

Currently, it was sunset at Tatadohama beach - to which surprised you that there weren’t as many people as you thought - where your mother had taken you since she thought you both deserved a bit of a break before you could go back to school since it was the summer break and to be honest, you needed it since you and your mother just came back from a job of exorcising a grade-one curse while trying to escape the scene before any other jujutsu sorcerers came.

“You look beautiful though, your mother has good taste doesn’t she?” your mother teasingly asked in a rhetorical manner, as she took her time to observe you rather than the sunset that was in front of her. Right now, you were some simple jean shorts that were somewhat quite large letting the gentle breeze cool you down leading you to fasten a black belt with a silver buckle which tucked in a simple short-sleeved oversized white button-up shirt that was loose, so you wouldn’t feel tight around your upper body as well as dressing for the warm weather that was approaching.

“It is quite plain, but it’s simple and cute,” you commented, as you peered down at your mother’s clothing choices before looking back up to view the beautiful setting in front of you, as your mother smiled gently before placing her head on your shoulder.

“Promise me that you’ll be okay,” your mother suddenly uttered quietly, leading you to give off a confused look before turning your head down slightly only to discover a small smile on her face with softened eyes as if she was relishing the moment with you.

“You’re acting like you're going to die tomorrow,” you comedically commented, leading your mother to laugh at your statement which caused you to giggle slightly since your mother’s laugh was always contagious when you were with her. Taking a deep breath in to calm down, your mother slowly calmed down before lifting her head up as she sighed.

“Well, anything can happen and I want your word that you will do anything to be safe,” your mother expanded on her previous statement, causing you to turn to her to look at her in the eye, trying to see and understand what your mother really wanted you to know before you nodded at her with a small smile.

“I promise mother”

ꕥ

“Oi Y/N, wake up”

Slowly opening your eyes, you slowly blinks a few times as you try to get a clearer view from what you were looking at before steadily realising that you were at the track field where you were training with the rest of the students.

Shifting your eyes to look up slightly, only to discover all the upperclassmen looking down at you with the tree leaves covering you from the sunlight that was beaming down right now.

‘Oh...that’s right, I’m at Jujutsu Tech’

“Sorry for making you fight with all of us, I bet you were exhausted, but we need you to check up on Megumi and Nobara since they went to do some errands,” Panda expressed with hands pressed together as a sign of forgiveness.

“Kelp,” Inumaki commented as if affirming Panda’s statement leading you to sit up slowly before stretching your arms to get read of the stiffness that was consuming them before taking in Zenin’s outstretched arm to help you up - something you both been doing for quite some time during the week - before picking up the black track top of brought out for today’s training that you were laying on top of.

“Sorry for sleeping, where are they?” you asked, as you covered your mouth to yawn since you didn’t want to seem rude to your second-year seniors.

“They should be getting a few drinks for themselves and us from the vending machines, they didn’t want to wake you up, but we knew they probably need some help remembering what we want,” Zenin answered, as she used her thumb to point behind her the direction you needed to take.

“Sorry, I’ll get going then,” you commented before tying the track top around your waist before picking up your black katana since you didn’t want to leave it alone before waving at them when you were beginning to head off.

“I’ll see you guys later,” you mentioned before Inuamki shouted ‘Salmon’ back at you before you swiftly made your way up the stone steps to find both your classmates Fushiguro and Kugisaki to get the drinks that the other wanted since you knew that they’ll probably both forget or take too long for your senior’s liking.

“I’m surprised she can still run after all those practice matches,” Panda stated, as he continued to stare at the direction that you headed out in.

“She’s strong, there is no surprise Gojo has taken her into his family and out of training to take some missions,” Zenin commented before continuing with, “she comes back really quickly to resume training with us,”.

“Mustard leaf,” Inumaki mentioned, as he nodded at his classmate’s remark about you before all of the second years went off for their walk, as they gave you time to run your errands before coming back to the field to train for the Kyoto Sister-School Goodwill Event.

ꕥ

Looking at her drinks in front of her, Kugisaki was disappointed at the lack of variety that the machines had as she groaned in annoyance before pressing her choice of the cold drink she wanted before checking to make sure there was orange juice in the vending machine since she knew you would want some when she got back to you.

“Couldn’t they put in a few more vending machines?” Kugisaki asked in an irritated tone, as she bent down to collect her drink from the takeout port before turning around to look at her classmate, who was standing behind her.

“They can’t. There are only so many workers who can come in here,” Fushiguro answered, as he turned to look at her only for the female to turn back around to place more money into the coin slot. “What else are you buying?” Fushiguro asked since he knew that Kugisaki as well as himself didn’t know what the upperclassmen wanted - that was usually your job.

“Gojo really likes orange juice, so I wanted to buy her some since she did train with all of us, I bet she’s still sleeping,” Kugisaki commented before contemplating if you wanted to bottle or carton version of the citrus juice since she didn’t know if you always bought the carton one on purpose.

However, before she could come to the conclusion on what you probably wanted, she noticed from the corner of her eye that there were two people standing at the other side of the outdoor hallway they were at. From what she can observe, it seemed like those two people were from Jujutsu Tech due to their uniforms as the male had what seemed to be an angry expression while the other student - who looked similar to Zenin Maki - had a sly smile on her face.

“What are you doing here, Zenin-senpai?” Fushiguro asked in confusion since he wasn’t expecting anyone from Kyoto Metropolitan Curse Technical College to come to their side.

“Oh, she’s one, too?” Kugisaki queried while turning her head to look at Fushiguro before continuing with, “They do seem similar, are they sisters?” as she turned back to look at the female student to get a closer look at her.

“They’re twins,” Fushiguro answered quickly.

“Don’t call me that, Fushiguro-kun. You make me sound the same as Maki, call me Mai,” Mai stated, as she gave the two Tokyo students a wink.

“So there are the pinch hitters for Okkotsu and the third-years?” the male student stated with a hostile tone while glaring at them with a look of pure disappointment.

“We came here with the principal because we were worried about you. Your classmate died, right? Was that rough? Or did you think nothing of it?” Mai asked with the smirk still painted on her face, leading Fushiguro and Kugisaki to tense at her sudden but somewhat offensive questions.

“What are you trying to say?” Fushiguro asked tensely, as he suddenly felt a slight bit of annoyance building up in his stomach.

“It’s okay, some things are hard to say out loud, so I’ll say it for you,” Mai amusingly stated before proceeding, “‘Vessel’ makes it sound nice, but it means he was a half-curse monster. Having such a tainted, inhuman being beside you brazenly calling himself a jujutsu sorcerer must have been revolting right? Aren’t you feeling better now that he’s dead?”. However, her questions only lead to extremely vexed expressions appearing on both of the Tyoko student’s faces.

“Mai, don’t bring up such pointless topics, I’m only here to see if these guys are fit to take Okkotsu’s place, that’s all I want to know,” the large male declared as he took a few steps forwards before throwing his school jacket to the side, leading to the shikigami sorcerer to tense up once again as he began to worry what was about to happen.

“Fushiguro, was it?” the large male asked before shouting in a proud manner…

“What kind of woman is your type?”

Suddenly perplexed, Fushiguro as well as Kugisaki, shifted their heads to the side simultaneously to convey their unexpected confusion to the two Tokyo students especially to the male that had just asked the weird as well as absurd question.

“Depending on your answer, I’ll beat you half to death right here and drag Okkotsu, or at least the third-years, out to the exchange event,” the large Kyoto student threatened as he processed to unexpectedly and violently ripped his purple shirt into shreds, showcasing his large muscular upper body before positioning himself in his usual fighting stance as he then suddenly announced, “by the way, my type is a tall woman with a big ass!”.

“Why do I have to talk about my taste in women with a guy I just met?” Fushiguro annoyingly asked as he began to express an irritated expression on his face at the Kyoto student that suddenly declared a fight out of nowhere.

“He’s right. That’s a tall hurdle for an antisocial guy,” Kugisaki unintentionally comedically commented, as she pointed at her stoic classmate, leading Fushiguro to express a more vexed expression.

“You be quiet. This is confusing enough already. You’ll just make it more complicated,” Fushiguro mentioned as an irked mark became more visible on his right cheek, displaying his displeasure on what was happening right now.

“Kyoto, third-year, Todo Aoi,” the Kyoto Tech sorcerer introduced himself. “Introduction over,” Todo announced as he then continued by saying, “now we’re friends. Hurry up and answer, if you prefer men, that’s fine too,”.

“A person’s fetishes reflect everything about them,” Todo explained, indicating the reason why he was asking his laughable question in the first place. “People with boring taste in women are boring people themselves,” Todo passionately proclaimed, as if he was presenting a speech to the whole of Japan at this moment in time before he exclaimed, “I hate boring men.”

“And I hate drags like you”

Turning his head slightly to view what was going on behind him, Todo managed to get a glimpse of a person that was right behind his school mate. A female standing with her hands in her pockets with what seemed to be a katana hanging horizontally unlike Okkotsu, who had his vertically, with a nonchalant expression painted on her face.

“Also your drag ass friend, she has quite a big mouth for a Grade three sorcerer from what I can sense, is this what I’m really fighting against Fushiguro?” you asked before you started to walk past the other sorcerer as you made your way to the vending machine to grab the drinks that the second-years usually requested when they made you run errands during a break from training.

“Gojo! You’re awake?” Kugisaki asked as she smiled at you before quickly mentioning there was money already in the machine since she was planning to get you your drink.

“You heard everything?” Fushiguro questioned as he turned his view to you, only to discover you pressing on the button that correlated to the carton of orange juice as you mentioned to Kugisaki that you were going to pay her back before turning your head to look at your other classmate.

“Yeah, I heard everything. You guys are loud and to be honest, both of them need to shut up, they’re such drags,” you muttered disrespectfully since you could tell they were at least a year or two years above you in the academic year.

However, it seemed like your insult didn’t stop Todo from explaining his passion for people’s preferences in a partner as he continued to declare his speech with pride, much to your complete dismay.

“As I was saying, the exchange event is where my soul can be free as blood boils and flesh clashes, who knows what I might do if my last exchange event ends up boring me?” Todo rhetorically questioned as he maintained his fighting stance as if he was ready to pounce within a second with a confident smile on his face.

‘Shut up...I have to meet with Gojo-sensei later and I don’t want a massive headache to come in before it becomes worse when I see him’

“Hey, aren’t the Jujutsu Tech schools four-year schools?” Kugisaki asked in an unsure manner as she turned to look at Fushiguro since she was trying to take note from you on what drinks to buy in case you weren’t able to for the seniors. However, she was confused about why Todo mentioned that this was going to be his last exchange event when he was a thrid-year.

“Only third-years and under can join the exchange event,” Fushiguro quickly answered Kugisaki’s question as she then let out an understandable ‘Hmm’ to inform her classmate that she acknowledged what he had just told her before swiftly turning back to notice that you had brought a cold water bottle for what seemed to be for Zenin (Maki) since you and her were looking at your phone to see a note displayed on the screen.

“As a show of kindness, I’ll let you off only half-dead right now,” Todo threatened again before repeating the weird question that instinctively started this whole situation, “answer me, Fushiguro. What kind of woman is your type?”

“Is this some kind of comedy routine?” the shikigami user angrily asked, as he increasingly got annoyed at what was happening right now and was confused on why he was picked in the first place.

“Don’t get into a fight, I seriously can’t be bothered to use any reverse cursed technique to heal your wounds if you do and we need to get back to training soon,” you stated before pressing on the last button for the last drink that was needed to be given for Inumaki when you get back.

However, it seemed as if both of your classmates didn’t listen to you since Kugisaki was now observing the other student behind Todo due to her uniform. “Is that your summer uniform?” Kugisaki asked in a light tone, as she admired the outfit before continuing with “ticks me off, but it’s nice”.

“Are you both even listening?” you muttered in annoyance before grabbing the small bag - that you kept from the time you went to your mother’s grave - in the pocket of your nylon cargo pants to place the drinks after you had got them from the dispenser since you didn't want to struggle to carry them.

Looking to his side, Fushiguro looked at his classmate as he began to analyse the situation that was currently going on. From what he could gather, Kugisaki was unarmed and didn’t have her usual hammer with her like she normally did meaning he was wanting to avoid any confrontation that could happen at this moment in time, while you were armed with your usual katana, yet he didn’t want to risk you revealing your true identity to the Kyoto students - not like he really had to worry about that.

‘Not forgiving people isn’t a bad thing. That’s just part of your kindness, isn’t it?’

That’s what his sister said to him once.

“I don’t have a particular preference, as long as she has unshakeable character, I won’t ask for more,” Fushiguro answered, to which you were surprised since you predicted that he wasn’t the type to reveal that sort of information. On the other hand, it seemed like Mai was pleased with the answer as she smiled sweetly at the boy causing you to shudder.

‘Ain’t...they like….family…?’

“Not a bad answer, if you had said something like ‘big boobs,’ I’d have killed you,” Kugisaki mentioned with a please expression on her face since she was relieved at the fact Fushiguro wasn’t suggestive like the Kyoto student in front of you three right now.

“Shut up,” Fushiguro muttered in an irritated tone.

However, it seemed like not everyone was pleased with his answer, as a tear was shed on a cheek.

“I knew it...You’re boring, Fushiguro,” Todo stated in a depressed manner before swiftly pushing himself to swing Fushiguro violently outside the hallway you were standing.

“DIDN’T I SAY NOT TO GET INTO FIGHTS, YOU DRAG?!” you screamed, as you turned your head to the direction where Fushiguro was struck away.

“FUSHIGURO!” Kugisaki panicked as she began to rush to his aid before a pair of arms was wrapped around her to halt her movement.

“Poor Fushiguro-kun, even a talented second-grade jujutsu sorcerer is nothing more than a first-year against the top-grade Todo-senpai, I’ll have to comfort him later,” Mai expressed with a sickly-sweet tone. However, you already had something to say.

“That may be true, but your Todo-senpai is nothing against a special-grade,” you mentioned with a smirk on your face, causing the female sorcerer to look towards you with widened eyes before suddenly remembering what Kugisaki called you by.

“Gojo…” Mai stuttered.

“Gojo, I’m okay! Just make sure Fushiguro is,” Kugisaki said to you with a proud smile on her face, causing you to drop the bag that you had in hand before quickly untying the red charm that was at the end of your katana.

‘I don’t need to unsheathe my katana, but I can’t use any of my curse spells to restrain him, so the chain will have to do’

“Hold this for me!” you shouted as you swiftly tossed the charm in her direction to which she caught easily since her arms still had movement before you rushed towards the scene where Fushiguro and Todo was.

‘This is such a drag right now…’ you thought, as you made it outside to find Fushiguro kneeling on the ground with a few new scratches on his face as well as his now stained blue track. However, it seemed as if Todo wasn’t done with his first attack since he was talking towards the Tokyo student like he was his prey.

On the other hand, you didn’t seem to care as you looked at him with an annoyed expression - even though you knew it wasn’t his fault. “Didn’t I say not to get into any fights? I can’t be bothered to use any reversed cursed techniques right now and I don’t want to bother Shoko-san since I need to train with her to know how to use it properly!” you raged, yet once again, it seemed like both of the male sorcerer’s weren’t listening to you.

“I knew at first glance that you were a boring guy, but you shouldn’t judge a person by their looks, right?” Todo questioned rhetorically again, causing the flames of rage to increase inside your soul since this situation was getting a little too similar to the one back at the detention centre.

“So I went out of my way to ask you, but you just trampled on my kindness,” Todo whined with a pout on his face while wiping the dripping tears that continued to fall.

“Is your brain as pineapple as your head?” Fushiguro insulted, as he gave the senior a weirded-out look.

“You’re the one to talk, hedgehog!” you screamed in annoyance since you were getting frustrated at the fact that no one was listening to you.

“I heard you don’t use cursed techniques.” Fushiguro randomly mentioned as he got up on his feet causing you to look at him with a death glare as well as suddenly being curious about what he meant by ‘don’t use cursed techniques’.

“Huh? Oh, that’s rumour’s false, I used them against the special-grade,” Todo plainly stated like it was an everyday face before raising his arm to wave his hand side to side as if to ‘slap’ away the rumours that were going on about him before continuing with, “but I heard rumours going around about a girl that went toe-to-toe with Sukuna, she was fighting with you right? Where is she?”

‘MAYBE THE GIRL THAT IS BEHIND YOU, SHOUTING AT YOU DRAGS!’

“That’s a relief to hear!” Fushiguro declared as if he was confident, causing you to look at him enraged with fury.

“THAT IS NOT A RELIEF TO HEAR, YOU DRAG!” you screamed, as you were now handing on an extremely thin piece of thread that was going to snap any second, leading you to attack both of them if this got out of hand.

However, once again, Fushiguro and Todo didn’t listen to you for one second as the shikigami sorcerer began to signal his shikigami to appear with the familiar hand-sign of ‘Nue’ back with you fought with him against Sukuna and ‘Gama’ from when you were training with him - yet, you were completely perplexed on what he had combined when both together.

Suddenly, a familiar shadow began to swiftly emerge from the ground before it suddenly took form into something you didn’t really expect from the Ten-Shadow Technique sorcerer.

“Frogs with wings?” you muttered, as you stared at the sight in complete surprise since you didn’t expect to see a few frogs with wings appearing in front of you - you never thought you see something like this in your life, to be honest.

“Bottomless Well!” Fushiguro chanted before a few of the frogs croaked in response causing you to stare that the creature in a now unreadable expression.

‘They will be weaker than their counterpart shikigami but they do have many benefits....didn’t Gojo-sensei mention something about the Kamo’s family?’

On the other hand, it seemed like your future opponent in the exchange event didn’t seem so nervous about the technique. Of course, from what you remembered from training as well as some knowledge that you had gained just from seeing one movement from Todo, you had come to the conclusion that he was a close-range fighter, probably had some experience with weapons since it would be foolish if a fighter didn’t have any sense it was a risk of them just having knowledge with their hands.

However, before you could even continue to gain more knowledge just by looking at the back of the well muscular sorcerer, there was a quick shift in the air causing you to snap out of your trance only to find Todo behind suddenly behind Fushiguro as he processed to wrap his arms around your classmate’s waist.

“Flimsy and shallow...Both your body and your taste in women!” Todo shouted before lifting Fushiguro upwards like he weighed nothing before aggressively smashing his headfirst into the ground behind him, causing you to discover how flexible the Kyoto student was before he suddenly jumped up into the air to give his opponent a punch, only for Fushiguro to dodge just in time, yet that didn’t seem to last since the second he moved away to gain some distance, he was violently smacked with a fist.

“Fushiguro!” you shouted, before quickly forcing the soles of your sheet to push your body forward to an extreme length, just in time to get in between both of the male sorcerers that were fully ignoring you since the moment you entered into the conversation to grab the drinks.

“Gojo!” Fushiguro yelled out in a panic since he was extremely worried that you were now taking a hit for him.

However, it seemed like Todo was now suddenly the one that was worried since his incoming punch seemed to hit something really small since it didn’t cover all his knuckles, yet it didn’t break like he thought it would, causing him to let the debris slowly clear away as his eyes began to notice the sight of a sleek black wooden scabbard standing vertically from the ground halting his extremely large fist, while you were kneeling down behind it, holding the handle with an extremely displeased look on your face with Fushiguro behind you as your other hand had a grip on the collar of his blue track jacket.

“You know Fushiguro, you are full of surprises but a complete drag when it comes to not listening to me,” you muttered, before slowly letting go of his collar as your turned your now free hand to face Kyoto Student in front of you, who was looking down at you with a shocked expression on his face.

“Todo Aoi right? You see, Gojo-sensei asked me to meet up with him and I don’t want a headache since I know he’s gonna give me one later, so I’ll see you later okay?” you sinisterly stated, before opening your palm to him as you slowly bend your middle finger towards you while placing your thumb on top of it, right on the nail.

“That looks like a nice construction sight,” you nonchalantly mentioned as you looked up at the wooden structure behind you before speedily flicking out your middle finger, causing Todo’s body to suddenly be pushed back with an extremely large force of cursed energy leading to the wooden panels to instantly break once his body made contact before you assumed his body landed on the wooden flooring that was above since you couldn’t see him anymore.

“Gojo…” Fushiguro muttered in shock as he didn’t expect something like that to happen before he noticed the same hand that flicked his opponent away was coming towards him with the same gesture.

Flicking his forehead gently, you turned to look at him with a straight face before you used the same palm to let your cursed energy become slowly positive with some concentration to heal his wound that was on his head.

“It’s not much since I haven’t perfected it yet, but it will deal with the blood loss before you go to Shoko-san, you drag” you commented before sighing.

‘There was no need for me to remove the charm after all, but that’s enough for me to gain information for the event’

“Megumi! Y/N!” someone shouted, causing you both to look up only to find your second-year seniors Inumaki and Panda looking down below you to where you remembered flicking Todo towards, leading you to assume that they went to where there was the most ruckus was happening. However, next to Panda was Todo, who smirked down at the sight of both of you below.

“Fushiguro, let’s train our hardest okay?” you muttered, so only your classmate could hear, leading him to look at your with confused eyes before you turned to him with a smile, “you’re really strong, but I know you and Kugisaki can get stronger, so just follow me when I need you to okay?” you asked, before standing up on your feet once you managed to stop the blood loss from Fushiguro’s head.

“Panda-senpai! Inumaki-senpai! Can you take Fushiguro to Shoko-san, Gojo-sensei said he needs me for a discussion, I assume Maki-san is with Kugisaki!” you yell out.

“Salmon!” Inuamki shouted back before all of the three sorcerers were out of your sights, causing you to turn back to Fushiguro before giving your hand to him to help himself up.

‘Grade-one Todo Aoi and grade-three Zenin Mai ha?’

ꕥ

“Ah Y/N, my daughter there you are!” Gojo cheered in delight once he saw you on the other side of the sliding door before you decided to step in since it was left open, to who you assumed was your adoptive dad that opened it earlier for his own reason.

“Excuse me,” you muttered before taking a quick glance around the room before noticing that there were only two more people with you and Gojo right now. From a side glance, you noticed a girl, probably the same age as you or maybe a year older at the latest, with long blue hair with a slightly slanted fridge wearing a suit that seemed to suit her really well even if her youthful and adorable face.

‘A semi grade two? No..maybe three like Mai…’

However, as your eyes shifted to the sight on the opposite side where Gojo was seated, there was an old man seated while holding onto a wooden cane, who seemed to be somewhere in his late 80s but you wouldn’t tell since he seemed too hollow for you liking, yet something about him gave you an off-putting feeling.

“I wanted to tell you about the two special-grade curses that attacked me the other day,” Gojo happily mentioned with a smile on his face, causing you to look at him with a confused expression since he seemed too happy for someone that got attacked.

“Why do you look so happy? That should be the opposite reaction Gojo-sensei,” you remarked, as you made your way towards him only for his response to be a little pout.

“How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me your dad,” Gojo childishly whined.

“Never,” you shut down his offer as quickly as you could before uttering him to tell you about the special curses he wanted to inform you about, only for him to suddenly pull out a piece of paper with two childish drawings on them, causing you to look at the art in a fed-up manner before snatching it off his hand to get a closer look at the curses that he masterfully drew.

“As I said before, the two cursed spirits were capable of communication and they probably have allies who are just as strong,” Gojo declared in a serious manner, causing you to shiver at the 180-degree personality turn that he had done right in front of you.

“It’s not just our enemies, either. Hakari, Okkotsu, your Todo and now my daughter Gojo. The level of our students has risen drastically in recent years, as well,” Gojo stated as he stared at the old man before he processed with, “then there was last year’s incident with Geto Suguru and now, the appearance of Sukuna’s vessel,”.

“What are you trying to say?” the old man asked, as he looked at your adoptive father with an expressionless look on his face (not that you could ever tell if there was any expression in the first place).

“Hehe, you don’t know? The wave of power you guys have been trying to hold back with your pointless status and traditions has grown bigger than you can handle and is now descending upon us. You won’t be able to measure the coming age with the classification of ‘special grade’ if you think I’m the only one who’ll be fighting back, you’re going to get hurt, old man,” Gojo declared with a smirk on his face as he felt the presence of the realisation that was coming to you now.

‘That man...was the reason why…..Itadori….’

“I think you are getting a bit out of line,” the old man lightly threatened in a lower tone as he glared at the sorcerer in front of him.

“I think it’s you that’s getting out of line,” you muttered in vexation as you glared down hostility at the man sitting on the opposite side of the table as the paper that you were holding began to crumble in your grasp. “If you get to kill someone by using me as a tool, let me return the favour next time with your head,” you threatened in a spiteful manner causing the old man to look at you with the same hollow eyes as he did with Gojo.

“Oh! Scary! Well, that's all I wanted to say, I’ll be going now with my daughter,” Gojo mentioned, as he got up from his seat before placing his hands on each of your upper arms to push you towards the direction of the door, before guiding himself through that gap that was left open.

“Oh, Principal Yaga will be coming in about two hours. Later!” Gojo departed cheekily, before closing the door as he then guided you away from the room the higher-up was in since he knew you were in a state of shock at the discovery you had made about your deceased classmate: Itadori Yuji.

‘Those higher-ups are so useless, all they do is command other sorcerers to do their dirty work while acting if they are superior dear. If I could, I would kill all of them’

‘Mother….’

926 notes · View notes

allyouneedisbuck · 3 years

Text

i know, you know.

summary -> bucky would die for you, but that’s not what you want from him.

words -> 1.7k

warnings -> light angst & near death & use of nickname (sweets)

notes -> i started game of thrones & i am obsessed with the idea of medieval bucky now so add that to my wips list

»»————-　☾　————-««

Bucky has no sense of self preservation.

You’re unsure if it’s because when he was a boy he was sent to war where it wasn’t a when you come home, it was an if. Or maybe because he’s lived so long he doesn’t feel like he needs to worry about life.

At first Bucky’s martyr-like care for you had made your pulse race. Throwing himself in front of punches thrown your way and saving you from bullets by reaching out his metal arm.

Then you realized he never thought things through. He just threw himself into harms way without worrying about whether or not he would survive the action.

You’ve learned all this within the two years you’ve known him. He’s become your best friend. Something more than that too. Shared stares and secret kisses that leave your heart fluttering and skin heating.

You love him, the kind of love that bubbles under the surface of kind smiles and more than friendly touches.

The kind that leaves your leg shaking as you sit beside him now, because Bucky Barnes has been asleep for three days.

A bullet had tore through his chest and left him gasping for air and bleeding out at your feet. You had dropped beside him to your knees after sending a bullet through the attackers chest.

“Sam, you’ve got to get us out of here.” You gasp into your comms. “Bucky’s hurt.” Your hands come to rest over the wound and you press harshly against them.

You look around in panic. “You idiot.” You mumble to him. Bucky’s blinking slowly and is obviously in a daze as he tries to focus on you leaning over him. “

“I’ll die before I let someone hurt you.” Bucky whispers. Your hands are stained red and Bucky’s eyes slide shut again after he breathes the words out. You let out a choked cry as you stare down at him.

“He’ll be okay.” Sam’s hand is resting on your shoulder in an attempt to comfort you. “Bucky is a fighter.”

You shake him off. “Bucky is an idiot.” You snap. Your eyes trail over his chest that’s rising and falling steadily.

‘He’s lucky.’ The doctor’s words come to your mind. ‘If it weren’t for that serum he most likely would have bled out in the field.’

You can’t stop thinking about the scene. The tips of your fingers are still stained red, the blood stubbornly refusing to wash away and remains a constant reminder of Bucky’s words in the field.

“Bucky is an idiot with no self preservation.” You start again. The words that had been caught in your throat the past three days come tumbling out like vile. “He’s selfish and doesn’t have any remorse for his choices or any idea what his actions may do to the people who care about him.”

You look at Bucky again. He doesn’t stir. His chest is still rising and falling steadily while his eyes remain closed. “I’m going to get a drink.” You push your chair our abruptly. Sam jumps away from you as you shove past him.

Guilt weighs you down immediately. You hadn’t meant to snap at Sam and you certainly didn’t mean all you said about Bucky.

It’s just - Bucky isn’t supposed to look like that. You had never seen him look so vulnerable. His skin pale and body completely immobile as he sleeps.

It has you panicking. Bucky, your Bucky, was strong and unmoving in a way that left enemies shaking. He had an aura that made you feel warm and confident with him by your side.

The hospital walls are a blank white that leave you simultaneously nauseous and comforted as you rest your back against it and shut your eyes.

Nobody stops to ask if you were okay or if you needed help, many of them too busy or preoccupied with actual patients. It was relieving to be able to have a moment of silence with nothing in your thoughts but what may be going on with the people you watched moves throughout the hospital.

How many were visitors there for a similar reason to yours? How many regular patients or who was a favorite nurse?

Sam’s voice makes you straighten out when you hear your name. You look at him apologetically, but before you can get the words out, he cuts you off. “Bucky’s awake.”

You pause. “Just like that?” You ask dumbly. You knew that this is what would happen. The doctor had explained that Bucky had been placed in an induced coma so his body could heal on it’s own and that he would wake up on his own time.

After three days though, you can’t imagine looking into Bucky’s eyes. You don’t know how to after seeing him so close to death.

“Just like that.” Sam says kindly. “I told you he was a fighter.”

You swallow thickly in an attempt to hold back tears. “I don’t… I’ll be in there soon.” You settle against the wall again.

Softly, Sam speaks, “Soon? He’s asking for you.” He tilts his head in an attempt to get you to look at him, but your eyes stay stuck to the ground. “Nobody ever said Bucky wasn’t an idiot, but he’s an idiot who cares. About you.”

“He can care about me without trying to kill himself!” You exclaim. You shoot an apologetic look toward the nurses who glance over at your voice.

There’s a beat of silence before Sam sighs. “He can. But how is supposed to know that? All Bucky has known is war, maybe in some way saving you from violence is all he knows how to do to show he cares.”

You look away again before you heave out a sigh. Your mind is a scrambled mess of panic, stress and exhaustion. All you want is to go home and forget any of this ever happened.

“I’ll give you some time.” Sam presses a reassuring kiss to the top of your head. “Just talk to him, yeah?”

You nod reluctantly. “I will.” When you don’t move, Sam raises his eyebrows. “Just… Give me a second.” When Sam leaves you in the hallway again, you suck in a deep breath in preparation.

<- ☾ ->

“Sweets.” Bucky smiles softly when he spots you in the doorway. “Been wondering where you were.”

You look him over like you’re expecting to see him covered in blood again. “Needed some air.” You answer curtly.

Bucky watches you quietly as you move further into the room. “Something wrong?”

“I’m glad you’re okay.” You avoid answering the question. Bucky notices you pause at the end of his bed and stares with furrowed brows.

When you don’t say anything else he forces out an awkward chuckle. “I’m always gonna be okay, sweets.”

“That’s not true.” You snap. You heave in a breath as Bucky watches with wide eyes. “You don’t get to just… Just wake up and be fine.”

“I am fine.” Bucky waves his hands out in front of him as if to show you. You shake your head in disbelief. “What? I am!”

“Your blood was on my hands!” You yell, shocking Bucky into silence. “You were bleeding out! Bucky, I had to watch you almost die in my arms. You don’t… You don’t get to sit here and just say you’re fine.”

“Sweets…” Bucky trails off. His eyes move over you like you’re a wild animal and he’s afraid you’ll pounce. It makes you even more upset that you look like the irrational one here.

You look away. “You were bleeding out and there was nothing I could do but watch. I can’t… I can’t do that again.”

“What am I supposed to do?” His voice raises and you know it’s so you’ll look over at him again. “Just let them hurt you?”

There’s a moment of tense silence before you nod. “Yes.”

“I’m not doing that. I can’t and I won’t.” Bucky’s shaking his head wildly at the thought of you getting hurt. “That’s not an option.”

You scoff. You’re still standing at the end of his bed and you can’t bring yourself to move closer. Not with how angry you are at him. “What is this self-sacrificial bullshit? Who does it help?”

“You!” Bucky yells. You’re almost afraid somebody will come in to check on him and find the two of you in the midst of a fight. “I’d rather be in this bed than see you in it.”

You let out a humorless laugh, but it just ends up as an exhausted sigh. “I can’t lose you, Bucky.” You finally admit in a whisper. “I can’t… I need you here, alive.”

Bucky’s eyes soften as you looks you over. “Come here.” Your eyes grow teary as he opens his arms for you crawl in beside him. “Please, sweets. Come lay with me.”

“Bucky…” You sniffle as the beginning of a sentence trails off. You move quickly to lay beside him, careful of the wires. “I don’t want you to die for me.”

His hand runs up and down your arm as your head rests on his shoulder. “This life. My life. It’s been full of violence, I just want to protect you from it.”

“You can protect me without almost dying. I won’t watch you do this again.” You look up at him sadly, the sound of his monitor beeping steadily somehow helps you breathe calmer as you push the words out. “If you want me in your life, you’ll give up this self-sacrificing bullshit.”

Bucky shifts so he can look down at you. “What else should I do?”

“Let me fight on my own. Have faith that I can handle myself.” Your hand trails down to intertwine with his. “If I… If I ever got hurt in the field like this, I’d rather you fight for me than die for me.”

Bucky inhales sharply. “I do have faith in you.” His left hand comes up to rest on your cheek and turn you eyes to face him again. “I know you’re a good fighter. I just… I…”

“I know.” You agree. The words are clear in his eyes and the nervous smile on his face. “I just need you to promise me, no more being a martyr. I don’t need anything else right now.”

Bucky’s thumb gently runs over your cheek bone. “I promise to try.” You allow your eyes to shut as Bucky leans down to press a kiss to your forehead.

There are words unspoken between you two. Things that should be said and talked about, but it can wait. You’re content to lay with him, like this, for now.

»»————-　☾　————-««

notes -> just a short bucky piece while i work on my longer fics! next part of the survivor series should be out soon.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes writing #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #sam wilson

215 notes · View notes

es-kay-zee · 3 years

Text

Double or Nothing | Lee Minho & Han Jisung x Reader

pairing: jisung x reader x minho

genre: smut

warnings: non-idol au, dom! minho, sub! jisung, sub! afab reader, established polyamorous relationship, fingering, oral sex (f and m receiving), cum eating, humiliation, hair pulling, degradation, praise, pet names, sir kink, choking, swearing, edging, overstimulation

requested: nope

word count: 5.2k

proofread: yes :)

taglist: @bxngchxn @jisungsplatforms @hyunsluvv @qtieskz @etherealeeknow @arohabangtan @channelhan @minholuvs

(can't tag): @doyoungsjohnny

____________________

as soon as you read the message that your package was out for delivery, you were excited, practically waiting at the front door for it to arrive. you’d bought it four months ago, and when it was taking so long to show up, you’d started to think you’d wasted your money on something you weren’t going to get. but here it is, finallyarriving. you watch the postman place it on your doorstep, waiting for him to drive away so you can swing the door open and grab it.

as soon as you have the package in your hands, you rush down the hallway, almost running to the bedroom in excitement. you place the package on the side of the bed, shaking jisung’s sleeping form in an attempt to wake him from his sleep. it doesn’t work, you’re slumbering boyfriend continuing to snore away, barely even stirring.

“wake up!” you shout, grabbing one of the pillows and smacking him with it. he begins to move slightly, and you can tell it’s working. you hit him again with the pillow, over and over until he eventually sits up.

under normal circumstances, you’d take a moment to laugh at jisung’s bedhead, but right now, there’s too much excitement running through your veins to even notice the way his hair sticks up at odd angles. instead, you pick up the package again, holding it up and smiling widely at jisung, waiting for him to notice it. but alas, he doesn’t notice, moving to lay back down and go back to sleep.

“hey, don’t you wanna know what i’ve got?” you ask, waving the package slightly.

“what have you got? just tell me,” he mumbles, eyes already closed once again.

“the outfits arrived,” you answer, and that finally wakes him up properly.

he sits up again, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before looking at the box in your hands. he grabs it from you, impatiently prying it open and carefully pulling out the contents.

“i forgot we actually ordered these,” he says, holding one of the matching maid outfits up to look at it.

“are we sure minho’s gonna like them?” you ask, a small bit of doubt creeping into the forefront of your mind.

“well, if he doesn’t, then that’s his problem. either way, we’re gonna look so fucking good,” jisung says, smiling wide as he continues to look at the item in his hands. “where is he, anyway?”

“he went out for lunch with his parents, remember?”

“oh yeah, that’s right.” he pauses, turning his head to you, and you can tell from the look on his face exactly what he’s thinking, especially because you’re thinking the same thing. “how long before he’ll get home?”

“not sure, i can text him and ask,” you say, already pulling out your phone and opening the messages between you and minho. you start typing, asking him how long before he might get home. it’s only moments before your phone buzzes with his reply.

minho <3: maybe an hour. why?

y/n: we just miss you, that’s all

he doesn’t respond, and you know that he’s aware of the real reason you’re asking. he can tell that both you and jisung are needy and waiting for him to come home.

“we have about an hour,” you say, turning to jisung, and he drags himself out of bed at your words. “where are you going?”

“to shower,” he replies, walking towards the bathroom. “because i’m not gonna be stinky when our boyfriend gets home.”

“ah, that’s a good idea,” you reply, deciding to scroll aimlessly through various apps on your phone.

“are you saying i stink?”

“always.”

he scoffs, but you can tell from the upturn at the corners of his mouth that he’s just pretending to be insulted. “well, you’re always stinky as well.”

“am not.”

“are too.”

it’s childish, the way you and jisung always banter with each other. but you wouldn’t change it for the world.

“just go shower,” you say, shaking your head.

“wanna join me?” he asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

“nah, your hands like to wander, so i’ll just shower after you,” you reply. “just don’t use up all the hot water.”

it takes almost 40 minutes for jisung to emerge from the bathroom, a towel loosely hanging around his lower half. but you don’t even take a moment to complain about how long he took, only opting to glare at him as you zoom past him and into the bathroom.

you shower faster than you ever have before, stepping back out of the bathroom, clad in a towel, in record speed. 10 minutes to be exact, which is quite quick for you, who usually showers for upwards of half an hour. as soon as you step into the bedroom, you’re greeted with the sight of jisung, already dressed in his outfit. he spins around upon hearing your soft footsteps, and the view of him is even better from the front.

you love it, the way his strong arms stick out from the short sleeves, the way the skirt rests around his thighs. the fabric hugs his torso perfectly, accentuating his tiny waist.

“how do i look?” he asks, and you respond with an approving nod and a thumbs up.

jisung smiles at your reaction while you grab the other maid costume. you quickly dry off the rest of your body, excited to put on the new clothing. if you look anywhere near as good in it as jisung does, then you’ll be super happy. you pull the garment on, turning to face the mirror once it’s in place, jisung walking to stand next to you, also looking at the reflection. he was right, about what he said earlier, you both look so good.

“what now?” jisung asks.

“now, we wait for our hot ass boyfriend to get home,” you answer, moving to sit on the bed. he follows you with a soft whine. jisung’s the impatient one, always getting himself worked up then complaining when no one helps him straight away.

you begin scrolling through your phone once again, jisung doing the same. and you can tell he’s getting himself worked up, judging from the way he keeps inching himself closer and closer. you, however, ignore him, determined to wait patiently for minho to come home. you fall into a steady rhythm, scrolling aimlessly, and the time ticks by quietly. or, at least, it was quiet until jisung lets out a frustrated groan.

“where is he? he told you an hour, and it’s already been an hour and a half,” he huffs, and you’re not surprised at his response. nor are you surprised when you face him and find his cock hard, pressing against the front of his skirt.

“he’ll be here soon, just be patient.”

“but i’m tired of waiting,” he pouts, placing a hand on your thigh. “what if we had some fun before he gets here?”

“you’re too horny for your own good, sungie,” you reply with a slight eye roll, feeling the way his hand rises up. a content sigh leaves your lips when his hand finally reaches your pussy, a lone finger running through your slick folds, already dripping with arousal.

“see, you’re just as turned on as i am,” he huffs, continuing to move his finger slowly, teasingly. and he’s right. while you’ve been waiting for minho to show up, your mind has been wandering, thinking up all the different possibilities for what he’s going to do when he sees you both, and you’ve been getting more and more worked up with every passing minute.

“but i, at least, know how to behave myself and wait patiently,” you retort, trying to hold back the whines bubbling in your throat.

“well, i don’t see you stopping me right now,” he says, his finger beginning to rub small circles into your clit.

“oh, shut up,” you say, voice somewhat breathless as you bring your hand up to jisung’s aching cock.

it’s almost instantaneous, the moan that he lets out when you wrap your hand around his length, slowly rubbing your thumb along his slit. you slowly pump him, and his hand stills against your clit, his brain momentarily short-circuiting at the stimulation you’re providing him. it only takes a few seconds for jisung to regain control of himself, moving his hand so that his fingers prod at your entrance. he slides the digit in, quickly adding a second while you continue to jerk him off leisurely.

he curls his fingers inside of you, causing you to let out a particularly desperate sounding moan. you pump jisung’s cock faster, losing yourself in the feelings of the moment, loving the way his fingers drag along your walls. you can feel the beginnings of your orgasm starting to grow, the knot forming deep in your stomach. but you can tell from the chorus of shameless whines and moans tumbling from jisung’s parted lips that his orgasm looms much closer. his cock twitches in your hand, so close to a release, but a voice speaks up from the doorway, halting your movements.

“well, well, well, what do we have here?”

you pull away from jisung, his fingers leaving you while you ignore the irritated whine he lets out from his orgasm steadily fading away. you stare at the doorway, eyes wide as you look at minho standing there, his arms folded across his chest and his expression none too impressed.

minho walks towards you, each step somewhat menacing, and it’s obvious that he’s not very pleased with what he found you and jisung doing. he brings his hand up, gripping your chin tightly between his finger and thumb, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him.

“tell me, lamb, which one of you was the impatient one?”

he doesn’t have to ask; he already knows the answer. it’s jisung, it’s always jisung. but you tell him anyway, finding some joy in telling on jisung. minho shakes his head in disappointment, frowning at the younger boy.

“was my pretty boy too horny to wait just a little bit longer,” he says, and you watch as jisung’s ears grow redder and redder. he cowers slightly under minho’s stare, the older man being entirely unimpressed with jisung breaking the rules. “what do you have to say for yourself?”

“i’m sorry,” jisung says, his voice quiet, meek, and he keeps his eyes trained on the bed underneath him, unable to look minho in the eye. minho just tsks in response, saying nothing more about the disobedience, knowing the best way to punish jisung is with actions, not words.

“do you like our outfits?” you ask, kind of annoyed that you’re not getting enough attention.

minho’s eyes scan over you and jisung, and you can tell that he loves the way you both look.

“of course i do, you both look so cute in your little matching outfits,” he smiles, gently cupping your face and rubbing his thumb along your cheek.

he leans in, pressing his lips to yours, and you smile into the kiss, enjoying the gentle moment. but it’s interrupted by jisung’s soft whines. he pouts his lips, silently asking for a kiss as well. minho rolls his eyes slightly, but you can see the soft smile on his face before he leans over to jisung and kissing him. minho steps back, grabbing the chair from the corner of the room and placing it at the end of the bed, ignoring the confused looks from you and jisung.

“now, my pretty pets wanted to play with each other, so you’re gonna keep playing. but you’re gonna do it the way i tell you to,” he says, sitting down. “so, y/n, as adorable as you look all dressed up for me, i want you to strip.”

“yes, sir,” you say, eager to please. you slowly stand up, reaching behind you to undo your outfit before slowly sliding it down your body, being sure to sway your hips enticingly as you do so.

“that’s my good little lamb,” he says, making you smile at the praise. “now, sungie, sit with your back against the headboard, and y/n, i want you to suck him off.”

you wait for jisung to settle into his spot before you move into your position between his legs, lifting up the skirt of his outfit to reveal his still throbbing cock. just as he did before, he moans the second you take him into your hand, slowly pumping him a few times before bringing him to your lips. you press a chaste kiss to the tip, relishing in the soft hiss he lets out at the minuscule contact. you can’t see minho, but you can tell that he’s smirking at you both from his seat, enjoying watching the way you tease the desperate boy in front of you.

“p-please don’t tease me, y/n,” he whimpers out, bringing his hands to tangle in your hair.

“shut up, sungie. you’re lucky i’m not trying you up in the corner to just watch,” minho spits, and jisung’s mouth instantly closes at the words.

you place another kiss along his slit before finally, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock. your tongue moves slowly against him, painstakingly slowly, and he lets out the most pathetic whine you’ve ever heard. it’s a beautiful sound, and you want to hear it again. you pause, waiting a few seconds before licking another stripe, moving just as leisurely as the first time, and you’re rewarded with another desperate whine, jisung wanting to ask for more, but knowing minho will stop you if he does. you lick once more before finally taking him into your mouth.

the only sound better than his whines is his moan upon finally getting to feel the warmth of your mouth. it’s low, guttural, bordering on being a groan. and it sounds like heaven. it sounds like a sinful delight that you’re all too happy to indulge in. you hollow your cheeks, sucking harshly on the tip of his cock before bobbing your head once, taking as much of him as you can before pulling away. you release him with a soft pop, swirling your tongue around him twice before moving back down his length, setting a calm pace with the bobs of your head.

you can feel him twitch in your mouth, his earlier lost orgasm already beginning to return. you hold your head down, feeling him deep in your throat. you moan around his cock, loving the way the vibrations make him rut his hips upwards, causing you to gag slightly. jisung’s legs start to tremble, his moans rising in pitch, and you can tell he’s getting close to his release.

“oh f-fuck, i’m gonna-” he stutters, eyes screwed shut and his hands tugging softly on your hair, a weak attempt to keep himself grounded.

“cum on their tits,” minho’s voice speaks up, and you’d almost forgotten he was even there, watching, observing the way you swallow around jisung’s cock.

“b-but-” jisung whines, wanting to cum down your throat.

“but what? you should be grateful i’m even letting you cum at all,” minho responds.

but, just like jisung, you also want him to cum down your throat. you want to taste him, want his release to coat your tongue. so, you don’t stop, continuing to bob your head up and down with new vigour, trying to make him cum before you can be stopped. but minho gets there first, moving from his chair to you in the blink of an eye, moving jisung’s hands from your hair and harshly grabbing a fistful of it himself, yanking your head back so that jisung’s cock falls free from the confines of your lips.

jisung is quick, taking his cock into his hand and pumping quickly, not wanting to lose his orgasm for the second time. minho presses one of his hands against your back so that you arch it, your chest protruding outwards. jisung pumps himself once, twice, before you feel the warmth of his release hit your tits. you hang your mouth open, tongue out in an attempt to taste at least a drop. but you’re out of luck, his cum only splattering across the expanse of your chest.

you watch jisung’s hand slow down, jerking himself off until he comes back down from his high. he lays limp against the bed, breathing heavily as he tries to catch his breath. minho lets go of you, moving towards jisung. he gentle strokes the younger boy’s hair, telling him how well he did. but the softness only lasts for a moment, minho yanking against jisung’s hair, pulling his head back so that they’re looking each other in the eye.

“lick it off,” minho orders, voice stern. jisung goes bright red, blood rushing to the surface as his face heats up in embarrassment, and you can practically feel the warmth radiating from him from where you’re sitting.

the look on his face is a marvel to behold, a perfect combination of humiliation and desire. so utterly embarrassed at the mere notion of it, but also so devastatingly turned on at the idea of licking his own cum from your breasts. he nods his head, moving so that you can take his place. you lie down, your head resting upon the pillows, jisung hovering over you.

minho stands up, returning to his chair at the end of the bed, watching as jisung’s head lowers to your breasts. jisung looks up at you through his eyelashes before pressing his tongue flat against the soft flesh of your chest.

there’s something so filthy, so dirty about watching him lick his own cum from your skin. something so entirely erotic about the trails of saliva he leaves behind. you moan softly when his lips wrap around one of your nipples, sucking softly on the sensitive bud. he’s quick to let go, though, moving his lips and tongue across, wrapping his lips around your other nipple as well. and it’s not long before his cum is cleaned from your tits, jisung turning to face minho, waiting to be told what happens next.

“good boy, sungie,” minho says, and jisung perks up at the praise, loving to hear that he’s doing a good job. “what do you say to y/n for making you cum?”

jisung turns back to face you, and it’s adorable, the way he looks so shy. but he says his thanks to you anyway, his cheeks a soft shade of pink.

“it’s your turn to give, pretty boy. y/n made you cum so now you can do the same to them.”

“yes, sir,” jisung says, moving so that his face is in front of your pussy. you’ve ignored the throbbing between your legs for long enough. and it’s only now, with jisung’s breath delicately hitting your dripping folds, that you realise just how desperate you are for some kind of stimulation. for any small amount of contact that can bring you the release you need.

his tongue darts out of his mouth, quickly swiping up from your entrance to your clit. you let out a broken moan, your hands flying to tangle in his hair and your eyes closing tightly. jisung’s always been good at this, making you feel good with his mouth. and as his tongue dips into your hole, you can’t help but feel as if you’re floating amongst the clouds.

he only adds to your pleasure, however, when he brings his fingers to prod at your entrance while he sucks at your clit. he curls his digits, working your g-spot for the second time today and it makes your back arch. you tug at his hair, pressing his face harder against you, greedy for more. and jisung is happy to provide. he thrusts his fingers into you faster, humming against your clit. and the vibrations feel like electricity, setting off every nerve ending in your body.

you slowly open your eyes, and you’re greeted with one of the best sights. minho sits on his chair, clothes in a pile on the floor next to him, his hand wrapped around his hard cock, jerking himself off to the sight of you being eaten out by jisung. jisung’s fingers pumping in and out of your walls feel divine, but the addition of knowing that minho’s watching, and that he’s getting off to it as well, is enough to make the knot in your stomach grow faster.

you look down at jisung, and you love the way he looks. his maid outfit still covering him, his eyes closed as he relishes in the taste of you. his hands wrap around your thighs, grip firmly holding you in place, and you can see the way his hips rut against the edge of the bed.

the knot grows, steadily coiling tighter and tighter until you’re waiting, with bated breath, for it to unravel. with a particularly delightful curl of jisung’s fingers, you’re cumming, your legs shaking on either side of his head. he works you through it until you’re only left trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm.

minho stands up, signalling for jisung to do the same, and the younger boy does, standing beside the bed awaiting instructions.

“strip,” he says to jisung, and he does, quickly ridding himself of the maid outfit, tossing it unceremoniously into the corner of the room.

jisung stands still, cock hard once again, and you can see on his face how much he’s struggling to stop himself from wrapping his hand around himself. minho ignores him for a moment, helping you manoeuvre yourself so that you’re laying sideways across the bed, your head hanging off the edge. he climbs on the bed, positioning himself between your legs before finally acknowledging jisung once more.

“you’re gonna fuck their throat again, sungie,” he says and is quick to continue when jisung pouts. “and don’t complain. if you were good earlier, then you might’ve gotten to fuck their pussy, but you weren’t. so, you’re gonna take what you get and be grateful for it.”

jisung huffs slightly but says nothing further as he lines himself up with your opened mouth. he takes himself in his hand, rubbing the head of his cock along your lips, his breathing uneven from the knowledge of the pleasure that is in store for him. minho does the same, sliding his tip up and down your entrance, gathering your wetness. and only when you whine softly, a quiet beg for more, do they finally both push into you.

it’s kind of funny, the way they both simultaneously pause when they’re bottomed out, catching their breaths, needing a moment to recover from how good you feel wrapped around them. it feels like a lifetime before they begin to move, and it’s immediate euphoria, the way minho’s cock drags along your walls, every single one of his thrusts deep and purposeful. his hips move slowly into yours, wanting to truly feel the way you clench around him. and jisung’s thrusts are the same, calculated, determined, savouring the way your throat constricts his cock in just the right way.

you keep your eyes closed, just letting yourself feel the way they’re making you feel, the almost overwhelming pleasure you’re being provided. you can feel the drool dripping from the corners of your opened mouth. you can hear the grunts and groans from both of your boyfriends, you can smell the unmistakable scent of sex in the air. and you can taste jisung’s precum on the back of your tongue.

you’re careful of your breathing, being sure to take breaths at every opportunity. you lift your hands, gripping tightly onto jisung’s thighs while minho’s hands do the same to your hips. his fingers dig into the flesh, and you know that the skin there will be littered with a bunch of tiny bruises. but you don’t care, bruises are a small price to pay for total pleasure, especially when they don’t hurt at all.

jisung’s hands cradle your head, and he watches the faint outline of his cock in your throat. the sight alone draws a moan from his lips and sends a shudder through his body. your attention is brought back to minho when he begins to slowly rub at your clit with his thumb, and your body jolts slightly from the pleasure. you clench tighter around him in response, making his hips stutter for a moment before he regains his steady rhythm.

“fuck! c-can i cum? please? i n-need to,” jisung pleads, his thrusts into your mouth growing sloppier and sloppier as he gets closer to his orgasm.

“of course you can, sungie. go ahead and cum for us,” minho says, and you pick up on the tone with which he speaks. you can hear the almost sinister undertones in his words, but it’s obvious jisung doesn’t, because he releases down your throat with a moan.

he thrusts a few more times until he comes down from his high before stilling inside your mouth. he’s panting, trying to catch his breath before minho speaks up again.

“now, keep going.”

“huh?” jisung’s confused, it’s written all over his face. and there’s slight fear in his eyes. he’s well aware of what minho’s order means, but he doesn’t want to believe it.

“you wanted so badly to cum earlier, even breaking the rules to try and do so. so that’s what you’re gonna do. you’re gonna cum again.”

jisung’s frozen in his spot, and you press your hands harder against the back of his thighs so that he can’t step away. you take the chance to catch your breath as much as you can, taking deep breaths in through your nose while you wait for him to move again. but he doesn’t, each time he tries to thrust again his body shivers in overstimulation, and it stops him. minho takes matters into his own hands.

he thrusts into you with more force than before, causing you to moan around jisung as well as lurch towards jisung. you swallow around him and the younger boy whimpers from the overstimulation, his knees almost buckling beneath him, but you can tell he loves it.

minho grips your thighs, lifting your legs so that they wrap around his torso, and he’s able to thrust into you better, the slight change providing the perfect angle for him to reach deeper inside your tight walls. you can hear his breathing getting ragged, the warmth of your pussy starting to get to him, and his hips stutter every few thrusts.

minho lets out a shaky moan, and you clench around him as tight as you can, beginning to grind your hips up against him for some added friction, while jisung finally regains control of himself, managing to restart shallow thrusts into your throat.

all the nerves in your body are alight once more, and you can feel the knot forming again. you continue moaning around jisung’s cock, and the vibrations are sending him hurtling towards another release of his own. you can tell that minho is also nearing his end, his breathing is heavy, his thrusts are getting sloppy. but he doesn’t want to be the first to finish. he slides one of his hands up your body, leaving goosebumps in his fingertips’ wake before reaching your neck. he wraps his hand around your throat, and jisung’s the first to feel it. he feels the way your throat envelops him tighter, and he lets out such a desperate whine before cumming down your throat without warning. you swallow around him, feeling the way his thick cum slides down the back of your throat. his legs shake when he steps away from you, and he’s quick to lay down on the bed beside you.

minho’s hand stays around your throat as he continues to thrust into you, and he rolls his hips expertly. you’re close, so damn close to your orgasm. but you need something more, anything more, and jisung and minho can both see that. they both know what to do, minho leaning down and bringing one of your nipples into his mouth, while jisung wraps his lips around the other.

they both work in tandem, almost in sync as their tongues flick and swirl over your buds and it’s mere moments before they have you right there, standing on the precipice of ultimate pleasure, teetering on the cliffside, so close that a small gust of wind could push you over. but you fall, of your own volition, into an earth-shattering orgasm.

your entire body moves on its own, writhing, trembling. your head is thrown back, eyes squeezed shut, legs shaking and twitching around minho’s torso. your back arches, your hips buck up and down over and over again. you’ve never had an orgasm so good, so exquisite, before. minho can tell from the way your walls grip his cock tighter than ever before, the way your mouth hangs open in a silent moan that just can’t seem to escape the confines of your throat.

the almost unbearable tightness of your pussy sends him over, triggering the orgasm that he’s been fending off for longer than he’d like to admit. you’re still lost in the pleasure, blissed out from the best orgasm of your life when minho releases inside you, painting your wall white. it’s only when you both have come down from your highs that both boys detach from your chest, jisung flopping back against the pillows while minho gently pulls out of you.

“you guys good?” minho asks, leaning back, propped up with his arms. you and jisung nod, happy smiles on both your faces. “good, then i’ll go grab us some water.”

he slowly stands up, catching his breath before heading out of the room. you use the moment to quickly go to the bathroom to clean yourself up. and by the time you return to the bedroom, minho is already there, two glasses of water in his hands and one more in jisung’s. minho hands one to you as you sit back down on the bed. it’s not until you drink the cool liquid that you realise just how much your throat aches. it’s faced a lot of use over the course of the session, but you know a scratchy throat is only temporary.

“i really liked your outfits,” minho says, breaking the comfortable silence that had settled in the room.

“thank you,” you and jisung say in unison. you both giggle before you continue.

“i bought them months ago and started to give up hope that they’d even show up.”

“then it’s a really good thing they did because they just might get a lot of use,” minho replies, smiling. “did you both have fun?”

“of course! it was really good,” jisung responds first.

“yeah, i really enjoyed it,” you say.

“i’m glad.” minho grins wider, happy that you both enjoyed it. it always makes him happy to know you both had fun. “what shall we do now? get in the hot tub or watch a movie?”

“who says we can’t do both? hot tub and then a movie,” jisung says.

“i second that motion,” you add.

“alrighty then,” minho replies. “then that’s what we’ll do.”

all three of you make your ways out of the bedroom, stopping to grab a towel each on the way to the backyard. and as you all reach the hot tub, jisung and minho both pulling back the cover, you’re just excited to sink into the nice hot water with both of your loving boyfriends.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #lee minho smut #lee know smut #han jisung smut #skz jisung smut #skz han smut #skz lee know smut #skz minho smut

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tanniesjeom · 3 years

Text

when the camellia blooms | pjm

park jimin x kim! reader | 1 | 2

sypnosis: diagnosed with the hanahaki disease, you had only two options - accept a deathly fate, or never love again.

genre: au, angst, fluff, humor, friends to lovers? maybe.

warnings: many talks of death and dying, minor character death, pain, unrequited love, swearing, talks of past sexual experience while intoxicated, pining, longing, really sad reader, and lots of angst.

word count: 7.2 k

"you would die for her, for him."

"You're dying."

The two words escape past his lips steadily and breathily as your widening eyes linger on the way his hands fiddle with one another out of habit. He sighs deeply and resists the urge to avoid screaming at you and maintain eye contact out of professionalism, pushing back his slipping glasses.

"At this rate, you won't have any more than a month. Had you told me this sooner, y/n, the results wouldn't have been as scarce. But because you waited after almost a year of this, I'm afraid there's not much to do." He pushes his desk lightly to pull away from it, creating a mere distance between himself and the papers which finalized your future's passing. Reaching his collar, he tugs on his tie to loosen it before unbuttoning the first stitch as he looks at you with seemingly stray and angered eyes mixed with sympathy.

Suddenly, his sight wanders the room as he shakes his head repeatedly, scoffing in disbelief. He then smiles, dimples prominent, lip tightened, eyebrows furrowed, and eyes broken, piercing straight at its target - that being you.

Standing up, he takes off his glasses and slams his fist onto the chair's arm rest before running a hand across his hair, softly hissing.

The professionalism is now out of the drain, "You're an idiot, y/n."

"Fucking stupid. How could you not- I mean- how could you not tell me? I'm your brother! We're family. Blood. We're supposed to- we're supposed to tell each other these things and you just fucking- you kept it to yourself all these months! Ten months! And now I'm sitting here being the one to tell you that you're dying? That you're leaving me? I would've done something. I would've helped you, I- I would've killed whoever this person you're in love with is. y/n, please- I just-"

You don't know why, but you felt exhausted.

The ringing in your ears is deafening. Truthfully, you hadn't heard a single thing the minute you received news that you'll be, well, passing away. Not to mention, within 30 days time.

It's not as if you didn't already know about your condition, of course you did. Coughing soft pink camellia flowers every time you see the man that's brought you here is not exactly something that just simply passes a blind eye. You sense it, you feel it, and it hurts.

It really, really hurts.

You also felt awful for your brother. You hadn't meant for it to go this far. You didn't mean to not tell him. You didn't want your assigned doctor to suddenly call in sick and have your brother temporarily take his place. You didn't mean for him to find out this way - such a twisted, horrible fucking way, but here you are.

"I'm sorry, Joon. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for this to go this far. I just-"

"Were you ever even going to tell me?" He cuts you off, voice low and steady, almost afraid of your coming response.

Your eyes locate his across the cramped room, and one could clearly tell that it's striving its hardest to fight against desperate tears.

"I- yes, Joon. I was. Of course I was. I was gonna do it after this check in actually, but I guess God wanted you to find out sooner than I intended, though He could've just waited a little while longer and it would've been fine." You joke whisperingly, the heavy weight of your heart lightening just a small bit when you notice the corners of his lips twitch and his eyes faintly soften.

Regrettably, that was a lie. You didn’t plan on telling him, not today at least. Maybe not even ever.

The softening air lasts for only a second as his following question makes you hold back the urge to cough up another camellia flower slowly blooming its way to your throat.

"Who is it?"

Genuine, concerned, curious. These were all that he was.

But noticing the way your body went entirely rigid at his words and the way your hand clutched your clothed chest in attempt to shut down what you know will happen next, Namjoon's brotherly instincts causes him to naturally make his way towards you softly, taking small and careful strides towards your fragile state.

And once he's finally reached you, he gets on his knees gently in order for him to be of nearing same height level as you're sitting down, his hands rubbing the back of your hand in a comforting manner.

He does this all before pulling the trigger.

"Who are you in love with, y/n?"

two years back

"Jimin!"

You call out your brother's best friend loudly, who is currently in the midst of doing a one-man stage play in front of the mirror, "Joon's saying you guys need to get going now. Says he has a patient in two hours and wants to go over all sorts of documents before treating her."

Turning around, you scan the living room and dining room for the keys of your friend's car as your brother also asked you to hand them to him since the two always end up on forgetting it until they've already reached the car parked across your apartment's block.

You hear Jimin shuffle behind you, "Really? He wants to go over documents at- 9 AM in the morning?"

Smiling at his attempts of complaint, you nod your head softly in order to play along and answer his rhetorical question, "He really needs to learn how to drive doesn't he? Since he's dragging you along everywhere he goes."

Jimin laughs at your statement, which being an opinion, your brother would argue, 'driving isn't a necessary aspect of life.' But who really thinks like that? Oh right, non-drivers.

“I guess he’s getting too caught up in learning medicine that he forgot to learn how to officially become an adult.” Reaching above the kitchen top, you finally found sight of Jimin's car keys.

How did it even get up there? You think to yourself. It's really high up, so Namjoon must've been the one to leave it as to where it is.

You groan slightly, "Joon, can you get over here! I found Chim's keys but it's too far up high so I can't reach it. Hell I don't even think he can reach this-"

You are cut off when you feel a hand sneak around your waist, making you flinch and suddenly spin cautiously.

Eyes widened. Lips parted. Breath hitched. You let out an inaudible gasp as you come to the realization that Jimin is now in front of you, head tilted with an amused smile on his face, "Excuse you? I can very much reach this." He says, all the while reaching up behind you, inchly leaning forward. At this point, your body is being pressed up against the kitchen counter and his oh-so-very toned front.

This small action is enough to instigate a flaming abyss inside of you as you very much attempt to calm your alarmed heart.

You can feel the cuts and lines of his abs against your chest as he is now standing on his tippy toes, desperately trying to reach the keys on the kitchen top. Anyone that could see his posture would call him adorable, but your body is currently being sandwiched and by all that is high and mighty your mind can't even really process a single thing. Wait, what were you thinking just now?

"See? Got it." Jimin falls back in place as he jiggles his car keys in front of your stone-cold face, smile wide as he giggles softly, "Piece of cake, y/n."

He then proceeds to move on with his life like he didn't just do what the fuck he just did.

Clearing your throat, you blink about a million times in order to gather your thoughts. Your heartbeat is racing faster than the speed of light and your lips have become as dry as a desert. If you had gone standing on your tippy toes just as he did, you would've been a baby hair away from lips touching. The thought is enough to make you grow weak.

Yet as if something inside of you is suddenly turned on, no pun intended, you remind yourself that these thoughts are wrong. You can't be having these apprehensions, they aren't right. Because not only is he your brother's best friend, he also has a-

"y/n?" Jimin's soft voice calls out your name.

Breaking out of your trance, you turn to see him sitting down on the dining table, head tilted downwards with a small smile on his face. The sun escapes your pastel curtains as it slips past the window sill, reasoning with the current ray of golden yellow that has found its home on Jimin’s plump cheek, shining on the left side of his luminous face.

It's absolutely senseless how he can look as beautiful as he does simply by existing, and it makes perfect sense that your finding yourself to liking him more and more.

Just look at him.

You are broken out of your enchanted daze once more as dreaded words leave his smiling lips, "I'm gonna ask her to marry me."

Only then were you brought back to your inadequate reality.

“W- what?” You attempt to speak, but you notice the way your voice has suddenly become noticeably hoarse.

Jimin looks up at you with a smile, the kind that has his eyes almost disappearing.

“Sung. I’m gonna ask her to marry me tonight.”

silence.

and more silence.

Like a coward, that was all what you could muster to respond with.

And only then did you notice the velvet box on his hands, upon which he is tenderly caressing. Only then did you recognize the questionable romantic script of his one-man stage just moments earlier. Only then did you realize that the reason behind his growing smile are because of her, not you. Not because of what had just taken place.

Only then did you remember that no, you can't be having these apprehensions - they aren't right.

Because not only is he your brother's best friend,

he also has a, now upcoming, fiancé.

present time

"I already loved him then, Joon."

By this time, your brother has stood up and begun pacing back and forth the modest office, murmurs of curses towards his friend escaping past his lips, "-that small son of a bitch."

Smiling softly, you look down in reminiscence of the moments you have spent falling for Jimin. "I guess I've always been infatuated with him ever since our first meeting, but my God Joonie," you pause, inhaling a short breath in attempt to stop tears threatening to spill. "-ever since that day, when he told me that he was going to propose to her, I finally realized that like was the wrong term to use. I realized that I loved him and I just- I lost sight of everything." You cry, small sobs coming from you as you blinkingly look up to try to contain the waters forming in your eyes.

It was true. That day, when he told you about his plans to ask her to marry him, you've never felt more indignant.

Of course you faked it at first, congratulated him and consoled him into truthfully believing that she will undoubtedly say yes. But the minute he and Namjoon left your apartment, you collapsed on your carpeted floors, sobbing loudly and hitting your chest repetitively all the while cursing yourself in your head for ever even considering the tiniest of possibilities that you and Jimin could ever happen.

You also went out that night, got drunk, found a guy, slept with him, and never looked back.

Sure, this may seem like a regular night out for many, but not being the type to kiss and sleep, sex meant a lot to you.

Nothing wrong with one night stands, that just wasn't your particular chosen lifestyle. But you were wasted. You were intoxicated. You didn't know what you were doing. Had you been sober, you wouldn't have done what you did, especially with the person you did it with. So when you woke up in the middle of the night naked in bed next to a familiar face and realized what you've done, you rushingly stood up, got dressed, and left, ignoring the calls of the man you had just been with.

You went straight home and washed yourself for hours, feeling dirty and sloppy and disgusting. You can easily recollect sitting down in the showers, head tucked underneath and in between your legs, sobbing and crying loudly as the steam surrounding you from the warm water kept on worsening.

You hated what you did, and you most definitely despised the reason for what you did, - to simply get over someone else. You felt guilty. You felt ashamed. What would Jimin think? You thought to yourself. And though that truly didn't really matter, the ache in your heart kept on making you believe otherwise.

You didn't notice how your tears have fallen and stained your newly-bought jeans until Namjoon's hands holding a napkin comes within your perception.

Mumbling a small 'sorry Joonie,' you accept his offer and wipe the tears still continuously streaming down your now reddened, warm, and puffy face. As you do this, you furthermore catch sight of your brother's shadow rubbing his face in frustration, matching the groans that you also hear release from him in the background. And without meaning so, you deflate in insecurity.

Hearing the sound of air being released from a pulling force, you look up to see that Namjoon has sat back down, his elbows resting on the desk while his chin rest on his hands. "Does he know about this, y/n?"

You sigh, "No."

"Are you going to tell him?" You hear him ask once more.

Closing your eyes and sniffing lightly, you inhale a steady breath as you answer him for the second time, "I don't know, Joon."

Namjoon looks at you, eyes full of worry and concern. You don't know?

You're his sister, and he loves you. He would do anything for you. If he could shower you with all the love that you lack from Jimin, he would. And he would do it in a heartbeat. But you're dying. You're leaving him. And he doesn't know what to think. He doesn't know what to do. So how could you not know? How could you sit here, in front of him, after keeping this shit for ten months to yourself, tell him that you just don't know?

He feels frustrated. Frustrated over the clearing fact that if you don't know the answer to that simple yes or no question, then how more could you know the answer to when he asks you to make the choice?

The choice - to love or to die.

A very careful, unprecedented surgery that has been performed by professionals only a few times, yet each one has been successful. This seems easy, yeah. A surgery to save your life? Of course you'll do it! But there's a reason as to why this has been done only by a certain small count.

To perform the surgery and live, the price is not the expense, but rather the loneliness that shall come as you spend the rest of your life void of emotions. The surgery doesn't get rid of love on its own, it gets rid of everything that comes with it - happiness, sadness, trust, pain, pretty much everything that one can possibly feel. The only emotion left is indifference, yet even indifference lacks its self-sustainability.

Who would want to live like that?

Who would want to live a life where you just simply exist and nothing more?

He knows that the day will come eventually - when he offers you the choice, the chance to save your life, and he knows it will come soon. But right now, he has chosen to prioritize being a brother over a doctor. Right now, the only thing in his mind is comforting you.

"Okay." Your brother nods, making your eyes widen slightly in shock.

Okay? No scolding? No 'how could you not know?!' older brother reprimands? But then you remember, oh yeah. You're dying. And who could possibly scold their dying little sister?

"I'm sorry Joonie-" You try to apologize once more before he cuts you off again.

"No, don't apologize, y/n. It's not like you could've possibly wanted for any of this to happen, yeah?" He offers you a smile, but you could easily see past its fabricated purpose, "But instead let me ask you this. And I need you, in our deceased parent's name, to be completely honest with me."

You only nod, completely submissive and understanding of his seriousness the moment that he mentioned your passed parents.

"What you just told me, when you first fell in love with him, that was two years ago." He starts, making you nod again in agreement.

"But you were diagnosed only ten months ago."

Your heart drops, and you don't nod again.

"The Hanahaki Disease is not something that gradually begins and comes to existence over the course of time. It is an illness that is triggered. It could be by a sudden forthcoming realization or proclamation of love, or by an event that triggers the heart to completely shut down in overwhelmth. Either way, basing on the timing of what you've said, you should've been diagnosed with the Hanahaki two years ago. But you weren't."

Namjoon eyes you questioningly, but not too much to the extent that you feel uncomfortable, only just enough to remind you of the importance of this conversation, "You were only diagnosed ten months ago, y/n. Why?"

You sit still, not wanting to move, as if your stone figure would somehow make him think that you're not real or that you're a simple figment of his messed up imagination.

"y/n, what happened ten months ago?"

He finishes his question and you swallow harshly only to realize that you're parched, your throat completely dry. You then tilt your head to steal a gaze at your brother, making you catch the way his eyes suddenly widened as if he just realized something of high importance. As if he had just realized the answer to his own question. And that didn't work with you.

Clearing your throat, you are about to answer him in order to cut off his thoughts until the door swings open and you feel your throat compact, - the coughs of a camellia flower slipping its way to visibility -because there he is,

the man of the hour.

"y/n." He noticeably breathes a sigh of relief before making his way to you, engulfing you in a giant embrace. "I was so worried about you. Why didn't you tell me you had the Hanahaki? How could you not let me know? How long have you had it? Who is it? I swear I'm going to murder whoever this piece of shit is that he dared ever making yo-"

"Jimin this is a professional space between a doctor and his patient." The two of you pull away almost exactly the same time as soon as Namjoon speaks up, Jimin's eyebrows furrowing, "Get out."

"What?" Jimin barely gather the voice to ask him as he is completely caught off guard of his friend's erupting vulgar attitude.

"I said-" Namjoon speaks before getting caught off again.

"No trust me, I heard what you said. But what?" Jimin repeats himself, "So you're telling me you're not prioritizing being y/n's brother right now? You're still caught up in this Doctor Kim bullshit? Like you're a real one?"

"Jimin-" You attempt to budge in, sensing that a certain trouble may suddenly come knocking.

"No, y/n. Listen hyung-"

"No, YOU listen. You small piece of shit." Your brother raises his voice, "-don't come barging in here like you own the place or like you have any authority over her. She is MY sister and this is a family matter. So it's best you stay out of it and keep in your lane."

At this point, Namjoon is in front of Jimin, a short distance separating the two of them, "And don't you ever dare speak to me in that tone again. I know you're my friend, but remember to treat me with respect. Not only am I your superior, but I'm also your hyung." He finishes with a serious voice, tone low, and message deep. His earnest eyes piercing through his friend's pained ones.

Jimin, mouth slightly agape being at loss for words and clearly confused at his close friend's unreasonable anger, storms out of the room.

But not before he drags you along with him.

Namjoon is quick to act as he tries to reach for you, but you turn back and look at him pleadingly, signaling him that it's okay and to not worry. And him being the understanding brother that he is, pulls back and holds himself steady.

You can handle him. You’re a Kim. You’re strong.

Strong enough to survive through this.

You’ll be okay.

And as he watches the two of you leave, the door closing shut right in front of him, only then does reality hit Namjoon as his legs tremble abruptly, feeling lightheaded all of a sudden.

Falling down the floor, he reaches onto the desk for assistance as he slides his back down the wooden wall, hands painfully fisted and finding its way to cover his mouth in order to muffle the choked-in sobs perilously escaping him. He proceeds to blink away the tears and bite harshly on his lips, trying to diminish the flourishing grievance in his heart.

His sister is dying, and he doesn't know what to do.

“Doctor Kim? The next patient is ready to see you.” A knocking nurse distracts him and calls out from behind the door, “-shall I send them in?”

Namjoon sniffs heavily and sighs deeply, rushingly grabbing his glasses and adjusting his emotionally wrecked state, “One moment!”

He lets out a soft, shaky breath and reminds himself once more that you’re a Kim.

You’re strong.

You can beat this.

It'll be alright.

You'll be okay.

"IM NOT OKAY JIMIN-SHI!" You voicely whine out to your friend who is currently dragging you along the halls of the hospital and out the technologically advanced glass doors, "What is wrong with you?!" You pull your arm aggressively from his grasp as you bend down, hands resting on your knees while you hastily try to catch your breath. The camellia flower stuck just along the chords of your throat making it very difficult.

Jimin stares at you worryingly, having forgotten of your illness, "O- oh no. y/n, I'm sorry I forgot I- are you okay? Should we go back?" He stutters in concern before you hold up one finger, signaling him to shut the hell up. "-sorry."

Looking at you like this, tired and exhausted from having to put up with all his bullshit, Jimin feels a sudden urge to reach out and embrace you tightly, almost forgetting of his previous encounter with your brother.

And so that's exactly what he does.

You are caught off guard the moment you feel a hand grab your shoulder by means of pulling you closer all the while another rests just at your crook of spine, and although this first makes you stumble in a not-so-very prettily way, your destination is found to be in your friend's embrace, his fragile yet protective arms wrapped around you securely.

Not letting this moment simply pass by, you let yourself melt in his arms as you find the comfort meant to be found in his comforting hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as you slightly stand on your tippy toes. Somehow, your simple action makes him pull you even closer, one hand creeping behind your neck all the while his other is completely wrapped around your waist although this time is tighter than before.

As the two of you stay like this in the middle of the sliding glass doors of the hospital, crowds of unfamiliar voices passing by you and ambulances ringing endlessly against your ear, you let yourself submerge within the passion of your heart.

Amidst the chaos and cries of your nearingly counted days, you find consolation in the arms of the same man that has put you in front of death's door, and quite frankly, you wouldn't really want it any other way. You'll take what is given by the heavens above when it comes to Jimin, because well- you love him.

Unfortunately, that quick and simple thought is enough to make you lose control of your reminded disease.

"y-y/n what's- are you okay?" Jimin pulls away from you abruptly as you break into coughing fits, pastel pink camellia blossoms escaping your trembling lips.

The sight has caught the attention of many civilians, but both you and Jimin remain to be indifferent about them as you or more or less are occupied with your illness all the while Jimin specifically aims his attention on you alone.

"Alright that's it, screw your brother alright?" Jimin exclaims a bit louder than what you're comfortable with as this obviously did not benefit with the proceedingly growing public focus on the two of you, "-we're going back, y/n, it's my fault for bringing you outside so suddenly-"

"No chim, please-" You roughly attempt to speak out, your throat painfully extracting the feeling of abrasiveness, "Please just- let's just go."

"y/n.."

“Please chim,” you cut him off for what seemed to be the fiftieth time, coughing, “-please. I don’t want to be here any longer.”

Hesistant yet concerned, Jimin nods slowly as he assists your side, his hands finding its home around your waist and lower back while you both take short and careful strides. You destination is still unknown, but you didn’t mind. A journey a day with someone you love has never turned out for the worse.

At least that's what you think.

"Really?" You roll your eyes as you notice the familiar lane that Jimin's car just entered, "I asked you to get me out of the hospital area, I didn't ask for a sleepover, Jimin." You jokingly accuse him, but you can't help the smile that makes its way on your puffed-up face as you notice him smoothly take a side-glance at you with a knowing smirk.

"Well I thought that with all that bad hospital air, you might've wanted to breathe in a familiar scent," Jimin responds as the car comes to a stop.

You turn slightly to open the door and step out before you here a meek, "Jankkanman!" and perceive a 5'9 in height blondie come running around the bonnet in order to open the car door for you as a gentleman would. It is such a sweet and casual pantomime, yet an ill-patient diagnosed with an illness of the heart can never bring you any wins. Consequently, his actions only causes your throat to feel strained and compacted for the endless time.

God, how much did you love this man that such a simple gesture makes you want to cough out countless of fully bloomed flowers?

You thank the heavens above for your past endless experiences that allowed you to now be better in terms of hiding your pain as you attempt to smile genuinely, mumbling a small "thank you" in the process before making your way inside his home.

"So," Jimin starts as the two of you plop down his couch, his eyes seeking for yours as he tilts his head ever so lightly, "what should we do today... now that you're out of that hell hole?"

"Chim!" You scold him lightly, "my brother and your best friend just happens to be working in that hell hole, just in case you forgot, and- hey! You work there too, you ass." You accusingly point at him all the while hitting his arm playfully.

Jimin is was a nurse in that hospital. Your brother is a doctor.

He laughs and smiles widely, "Nope. I don't work there anymore, remember? But I did for a while, which is why I can most definitely testify that that place is indeed, a hell hole. And by the way, I'm kind of offended that you pretty much forgot my lost profession just then, y/n, like what the fuck?" He jokes endingly.

Your eyes soften slightly as he mentions his lack of job, yet you still stubbornly choose to ignore his last remark. "Well I sure hope that's not the case since I'll be most likely spending my last days there."

Oops.

The silence that ensues goes inevitably noticed by the two of you the moment those words escaped past your lips, but you paid no mind. That was the reason that you asked him to take you away anyways. You weren't hoping for some cliche romantic bullshit where the two of you simply elope and forget your real worries in your life, no. Instead you were here with the main purpose of facing it.

Besides, even if you did want to leave with him, you couldn't. Remember?

Jimin is the first to break the excessive blockade, "Don't say that y/n."

You sigh, "But it's true, chim."

"I don't give a shit if it's true or not."

"Chim.." You are slightly startled with his sudden outburst, caught off guard in the way his voice slightly raised as his attention and body language are now completely directed at you, "Wha- why are you getting mad?"

Jimin scoffs, almost irritated at your oblivious question, "Why? Because you're talking of dying like it's not a big deal, y/n!" His voice getting louder and louder by every word he spits out, "God, you know you can be so fucking insensitive sometimes. What, did you already forget the shit I suffered when I lost someone? Did you already forget all the fucking shit I suffered when death took her from me?"

At the mention of her, you pause. Speechless. Guilty. Hurt.

Of course you remember. How could you not? You remember the darkest of days as like it was just yesterday.

You remember getting that call in the middle of the night from the contact name of your brother as you slightly answered it in an irritated voice, "Joon I swear to God if you're asking me to drive you to work in the middle of the fucking night I will personally drag your ass right now to get a driver's liscenc-"

"y/n?"

You remember immediately stopping as you recognize the voice that most certainly did not belong to your brother, "Chim?"

"y- y/n."

You remember the outbreak of his sobs as you call out to him, his sniffles and cries becoming more and more prominent as you stumble on your feet, struggling with keeping your phone against and in between your ear and your shoulder as you hurryingly take off to grab a jacket and your keys, "Chim what's wrong, where the hell are you? W- where's Joon?"

You remember the way your heart dropped as your worst fear came to mind, the thought of losing your brother itself being enough to make you wobble in your feet, your heart clenching. He had your brother's phone, and he was crying.

"N-no, he- he's fine, y/n. It's not him, hyung's... hyung's fine."

You remember the way he struggled to find the right words; the way he sniffled and stuttered through forming such a simple sentence all the while you on the other side of the line breathe out a sigh of relief at the information of your brother's wellness, yet feeling slightly guilty that your emotions are in contrast with your friend's.

"It's Sung."

You remember Jimin's worst.

"It's Sung, y/n. Sh- she got in an accident on the way here to visit me during my off hours and- fuck! Some fucking demon pulled a hit and run on her. She was walking, y/n. She walked an hour here and got ran over by someone and.. they're doing an operation on her- hyung's assisting and he just- it's bad. It was really bad and she was bleeding all fucking over and- hyung, he- he left his phone and I didn't know what to do so I just called you- I didn't, they pushed me out of the room, y/n. I need you here. Please, please. Please come here because I'm losing my fucking mind and I need you here."

You remember driving to the hospital as careful as you can with the fear of the possibility of an accident occurring still in the midst of the back of your mind.

You remember reaching the doors of the emergency room and being greeted with a pair of reddened and exhausted eyes that looked up the moment you walked in, "Jin."

He stands up to greet you politely but you stop him, obviously seeing that his reaction upon seeing you is no more than a forced delight, "Let's not do this under these circumstances, okay? You're allowed to feel unwelcoming. It's okay, Jin."

He does no more than mumble a small 'thank you' before going back to his previous spot with you trudging along beside him.

You remember feeling the sorrow of the man beside you as you watch him lean his head back against the wall, fragile streaks of tears rolling down his flushed cheeks. You couldn't imagine his pain, the pain of such a situation where your sister's life is at stake. You wanted to comfort him, to softly rub his back and whisper sweet encouragements against his ear, little white lies that his sister is guaranteed to make it without a doubt. But you couldn't. You weren't here for him, regardless of your history. Regardless of the way you left him the morning after your supposed mistake.

"Uhm, have you seen Jimin?"

You remember the way his void eyes find yours and the way his lips lightly upturn as he gives you a forced smirk, trying to keep up with his image of being Kim Seokjin, Kim Sungkyung's handsome and cocky older brother, "And here I was thinking fate brought you here to me, y/n." He trails off, "-considering how you fucked me then dipped."

You gasp slightly and playfully hit his arm at the blunt mention of your regretted one night stand as you give him a small yet genuine smile, partly glad yet at the same time worried that he can make such remarks during a situation like this.

It was strange really, how everything in your life seemed to be connected. How on the day you felt your heart tore apart the time Jimin first mentioned his planned proposal, you went out and accidentally slept with the soon-to-be-bride's older brother.

Letting out a small sigh, Jin nods his head in the direction of a different waiting room, "He left when I came. Guess he was embarrassed of how fucked up he was but hey- I'm not doing any fucking better am I?" He tells you, subtly pointing at the very visible streaks of tears still falling down his now puffy face.

You get on your feet and turn to leave but not before giving one last glance at the man next to you, a hand softly reaching to rub his shoulder, "I'm so sorry, Jin. I wish I could stay, but-"

"It's okay, y/n. Go." Jin encourages you with a small yet noticeably forced smile, "He needs you."

And so you do, bidding him a soft goodbye before taking off, your eyes beginning to water out of the guilt of leaving a friend in that state.

You then remember being suffocated. Suffocated from the embrace that greeted you the moment Jimin entered your peripheral vision. You remember landing on your behind with a harsh thud from the struggle of Jimin's weight as he continues to seek your embrace for means of comfort, the two of you falling down the floor. You remember getting drenched from Jimin's tears as you cradle him as would a wailing child, rocking him back and forth all the while softly rubbing his back, whispering every bit of amenity that could make him feel better.

You remember feeling your heart physically ache as you fail to notice the tears that have fallen down your own eyes, blurring your sight.

To see Jimin in this state, so broken and hurt and scared, it tore you apart. You wanted him happy. You wanted him smiling. You wanted him. You loved him. And God forbid that you're admitting this in your own mind while his fiance is battling for her own life, but fuck.

You wanted nothing more than to lay down your own life for Sung so that she could continue in existence for him.

If you could, you would take here place.

You would die for her, for him.

You remember pushing back your thoughts as you put focusing on Jimin your first priority. You remember keeping him in a neverending tight embrace as he neverendingly sobs against your chest, his lips leaving prayers you could barely yet still tried to understand;

please don't let her die

don't take her away from me

i love her too much

i still have to marry her.

You then remember hearing a wail of anguish, putting a pause to both Jimin's silent pleas and your eavesdropping as the both of your heads turn to pinpoint from whom the noise came from.

You remember the way Jimin stilled.

"No."

You remember his whisper of such a small, two-lettered word, yet somehow it caused your heart to crumble.

"No no no no-"

You remember having to tackle Jimin slightly as he causes a mess of himself, punching the seats and harshly tugging on his hair all the while screaming wails of pain and suffering, "Jimin please-"

"No- get the fuck off of me! Sung?!"

You remember how Jimin lost sight of reality as he pushes you off of him, your body making in contact with the cold tiled ground.

"SUNG? SUNG! LET ME INSIDE-"

You remember seeing nurses and other staff pull the man you love back as he causes a scene, starting to become physical and violent with the people surrounding him, "PLEASE! Please- I just- I NEED TO SEE HER! SHES MY FIANCE-"

You remember seeing a man dressed in blue make his way near Jimin, a needle in his hand.

"H-hey, no!" You remember trying to catch up to the nurse, attempting to prevent them from giving whatever the shot was to Jimin, "Stop! Please-"

"y/n. D-don't."

You remember feeling a hand on your shoulder which makes you turn around instantly, only to find the culprit behind the anguished scream just moments prior Jimin's outburst.

"Jin." You start, "-they're going to sedate him. That- that's not okay."

"They have to, y/n." Another voice calls out from behind Jin, "I know how it seems and I don't like it either, b-but he's becoming violent. They have to sedate him."

"Joon." You whisper softly.

What a sick and twisted game that life is playing on you, that your brother, Jimin's best friend, Jimin's best man at the wedding being planned, is the one to give news of the bride's passing.

"Sung, is she really.." You trail off, not having the heart to finish your sentence.

It seems neither does he, as he responds with nothing but a simple avoidance of eye contact.

"HYUNG!"

You remember Jimin's faint and tired yet still firm voice as he calls out your brother, "Hyung, you saved her didn't you? You- you were part of the surgery. You saved her didn't you? Didn't you!?" Jimin is weak as he trails off his words as the effect of the syringe takes its course, but that doesn't stop him from reaching out to the three of you, "H-hyung. Tell me you saved her. P-please tell me you saved h-her."

Namjoon doesn't stop the tear that rolls down his hardened face as he only shakes his head, "I'm sorry, Jimin. We did our best. We really, really did. I'm so sorry-"

You remember the way Namjoon's voice trails off your hearing as your throat suddenly feels contracted. You remember the itching pain just within your chest as you find the struggle to breath, your hand clutching it harshly. You remember stumbling back just a little bit as you feel lightheaded, thinking that these were only from the overwhelming happenings in that moment.

But then you cough.

And you cough

and you cough

and you cough.

But no one notices you.

Not even yourself.

Your attention remains still at Jimin, who has now dropped completely to the floor, tears still continuously spilling out of his drowsy eyes. Short breaths are released from his trembling lips as he mumbles words that none of you can understand. He then begins to seemingly reach out for something, someone.

"P-please," He whispers.

And as you bend down almost immediately to attend to his calls, you cough.

And you cough

and you cough.

And still no one notices.

No one except him.

You cough as your eyes find his, barely open yet staring right at you from the lows of the floor.

You remember having to excuse yourself and run to the nearest restroom you can find, legs trembling and stumbling on your way there as you push against the winds of the almost empty halls, still coughing with every step you take. And just as you reach the doors of the restroom, you turn back slightly, just enough to catch Jimin's last sight while his body is being carried away to where you guess is a vacant patient's room, all this before his eyes ultimately close.

Eyes you found lastly staring at you.

You remember finally shutting the door and locking it, thanking God silently that you're in a family restroom hence there is no one else inside. You cough desperately, your throat beginning to feel exclusively sore and your lungs beginning to tighten from all the air being released as you cough and cough and cough again.

You reach out to the sink, gripping tightly onto the white metals as you cough and cough and cough again.

You then brushingly turn to the toilet, your eyes watering and lips numbing as you cough and you cough and you cough once more.

You practically clean the whole restroom, as disgusting as that sounds, from all the moving you made as you coughed anywhere and everywhere. You felt awful for the next person to come inside, now that your bacterium were practically in its every corner, side, and space. You cough again, this time harder, the worst one out of the previous.

You remember sensing a certain feeling rise up, something soft yet itchy, something light yet heavy.

And so you cough, and you cough, and you cough, and you cough,

and you bleed.

And amongst the red is a pink.

A single, individual pink petal from what you would soon find out is a camellia flower - the flower that is soon to be the latter symbolization of death chasing you, growing closer, inching nearer, just about to knock on your door.

So of course you remember Jimin's distraught. Of course you remember Sung's - his fiance's death.

Because her death was too, the ultimate beginning of yours.

taglist for part 2?

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disasterofastory · 3 years

Text

Newlyweds Part 3 (Uhtred x Reader)

Newlyweds Part 3 Uhtred x Reader Warning: smut

Y/N and Uhtred’s marriage will be fine.

The Great Hall is empty and silent. The air is cold without the fireplace warmth. Candles burn here and there to give you some light in the darkness. Your steps are slow and steady like the first time when you looked around in the building. There are cups on the table and abandoned pelts on the floor.

You never saw this place so deserted since you are here. Somebody is always here. Servants clean after a long day or, warriors sit down for a cup of ale before they go home to their families. Even when you wake up in the mornings, someone is already in the Hall. At first, you found it irritating, but slowly you got used to it. Finan's loud laugh wakes you up from your dreams, and you can’t sit down to drink your tea because you always have things to do.

And now the loneliness makes you sad.

You speed up your steps to reach the closed door of the bathing room. You push it open and see Uhtred lying in the wooden bathtub with closed eyes. His arms flex on the edge as he sits up, hearing your movements. He is clean from dirt and blood, unlike you. He reaches out one of his hands without a word, and you grab it for a few seconds. The skin of his palm is hardened from the sword and hard work. You draw his palm line with your thumb before you let it go and start to undress. The fabric is stick to your skin because of the blood and sweat.

The herbs-filled, steamy air settles down on your lungs as you step into the bathtub with the help of Uhtred. You sit down before him, your back against his chest, and his arms hug you for a little while. His lips peck your neck and shoulder as he frees your hair from the messy braid. He grabs a small bowl to fill it with water and pour it on your head. Your wet locks stick to your skin, and soon the herbs and flowers fill your nostrils, suppressing the steely scent of the blood.

You were full of thoughts the whole day, but now you think nothing. Feel nothing. The emptiness of your head is comforting, and you sigh when Uhtred starts to massage your scalp.

“Are you okay?” Uhtred whispers after a while. He was worried about you the whole day. When he heard about the trap, his heart stopped beating for long seconds. He thought about you and your vulnerability. You were there not so far but far enough from him. His men tried to calm him down but the whole way, he imagined your dead body so many times, he almost couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw you. You looked like a little shield-maiden. Clumsy and afraid but shield-maiden nonetheless. Your soft skin was bloody, and your eyes almost burned from adrenaline and anger.

“Yes,” you answer quietly. “I just want to be close to you,” you confess.

You never thought your marriage would be like this. The man, the Dane, the monster, you feared so much now means comfort and safeness as his arms hug you again from behind.

“I’m here,” he says, kissing your head.

You sit there with him till the water gets lukewarm.

“Come, you will get sick,” he says, stepping out from behind you. He wraps a towel around his waist and helps you out of the tub, wrapping you in a towel too. He caresses your shoulder for a moment, looking down into your eyes.

“I’m proud of you,” he says. “You saved a lot of lives today.”

“I was terrified,” you confess, looking down on your toes because of shame.

“And that’s why I’m proud of you,” he replies, grabbing your chin to lift it up until your eyes meet. “You could have hide, and I wouldn’t blame you, but you stayed and fought.”

You place your hands on his bare chest to support yourself as you stand on your toes. You feel his breath on your lips before he leans closer and kisses you fully. His lips are warm and soft. He moves slowly in sync with yours. His arm hugs your waist, pulling you closer to himself.

“Come,” you say to him, breaking the kiss. You wrap your fingers around his wrist to pull him into your bedroom.

“I take care of the fireplace, you go and lay down,” he says, and you do as you told.

You hear his shuffling behind you as you drop the towel onto the floor and climb on the bed. The pelts feel ticklish on your skin as you make yourself comfortable. Your hair is still wet, and small droplets run down on your bareback.

The fire illuminates his tall form. His muscles are more outlined, and you can’t believe you ever thought of him as a monster. He is handsome, and he didn’t show you anything else but kindness and patience since you are married. Of course, he is cheeky and loves teasing you, but you can live with it. You always imagined your marriage as lukewarm bathwater with an old man, who you don’t love, but now your whole body burns and hurts from desire.

He smirks at your lying form on the bed as he turns around. He let loose the towel around his waist till it falls at his feet. He is already hard, and you have to force yourself to pressure the blush on your cheeks.

You saw his naked body before, but you weren’t brave enough to look at him really. His thighs are muscled, and you make yourself blush when your gaze goes up to his V line, and your first thought is that you want to lick him there.

“What are you thinking?” He asks you slyly, walking to the end of the bed. His length bobs with his steps, and you can’t force yourself to look away.

You know this look. Uhtred is teasing you, he waits for you to be the prude Christian woman he thinks you are. You stare into his eyes with newfound bravery as you climb closer to him. As you kneel on the bed before him, his cock is at the perfect height for you.

“I thinking about me,” you start. His eyes become hooded as you touch his V line. “Licking you here.”

His hardness jumps at your soft touch, and it’s your turn to smirk at his reaction.

“You can if you want,” he says hoarsely.

“Tell me if I do something wrong,” you tell him more seriously, and he smiles at you gently with a nod.

Your fingers wrap around his manhood carefully. He is hard and warm under your palm, and you lean closer to him to trace his V line. His skin shines after your tongue. His muscles tense at you curious caresses and a low moan burst out of his throat when you move your hand on his length.

“Harder,” he says, and you look up at him under your lashes. “Like this,” he nods when you grab him more firmly, moving your hand up and down on him. He closes his eyes from the pleasure, and you take the opportunity to look at him better. He is long and hard, and you can’t help yourself but to lean down and lick a vein on his cock. He moans your name in answer, and you take it as a good sign. You play with him like this for a while. You lick him here and there before you take the next step, and you open your mouth for him. He moans again, you feel his fingers on your hair, but he doesn’t force you to do anything. He is patient even if he wants nothing else but devours you this instant.

“Lay down,” he says, nodding to the bed.

Your jaw hurts, but you are satisfied, and you got goosebumps from the waiting. Uhtred climbs above you, his body lays on top of yours as he finds your lips with his. His kiss is wilder than before, and you mewl into his mouth. Your stomach is in burning knots, you have to press your thighs closer to get the friction you want most. You feel the slickness between your legs, and you moan at the feeling of his finger on your mound.

“Open your legs,” he orders you, and you spread your legs to give him access.

Your body arches under his fingers. He plays with your folds and finds every pleasurable spot to make you moan and chant his name. His mouth nibbles on your neck, and he bites into the soft skin as he pushes his finger inside you.

“Uhtred,” you pant, grabbing his shoulders.

Your mind is cloudy and heated from impatience. With his every move, his cock touches your thighs, reminding you, what you want the most.

“I’m ready,” you tell him, caressing his bearded chin to pull him closer to you for a kiss.

“I will be slow,” he promises, pecking your nose as he positions himself.

Your walls aching from his push, but otherwise, you don’t feel pain. You feel full and hot, and you need more. You need him to move.

“It’s okay,” you stutter out, placing your heels on the bed to give you support. You fidget under him for more friction until Uhtred starts to move in and out of you slowly and steadily.

“It’s still okay?” He asks you after a while, looking down on you.

“You can be faster,” you nod. You push yourself up a little to nibble on a bruise on his pale skin.

His movements become more rapid, and you fall back to the bed. You caress his sides and his chest, kissing his neck as he moans from the warmth around his cock.

The burning feeling in your lower body becomes too much to bear, and you let out a small scream from the new feeling. Your muscles tense, turning into a soft tingle as you calm down. Your hands still on the man's shoulder, and he still moves in and out of you. You become sensitive after your orgasm, and his every move feels like a bolt of small, pleasurable lightning in your body.

He cages your body as he stays still inside you, reaching his high. His chest vibrates against yours, moaning your name. You feel his cum leaking out of you as he calms down and lays down next to you after a few minutes while you caressed his back.

His body shines with sweat like yours, and you move closer till you can lay your head on his chest. He hugs you, playing with your fingers on his stomach. Your breath and heartbeat are still rapid. You can hear the blood pumping in your veins.

“Am I still a monster?” He asks you cheekily after a while, and you smile, pecking his skin.

“Yes,” you nod. “But you are mine,” you continue, looking up at your husband's chuckling face as you place your leg between his to get closer to him.

“Seeing you today bloodily with a sword, I’m not sure I am the monster here,” he teases you.

At the beginning of your marriage, you thought Uhtred is a savage monster, but now you feel nothing but proudness thinking of yourself as a savage monster who is ready to do anything to protect her loved ones.

“I’m fine with it,” you shrug, and he laughs again, kissing your hair.

Yeah, your marriage will be just fine.

#uhtred x reader #uhtred x you #uhtred ragnarsson imagine #uhtred imagine #the last kingdom imagine #the last kingdom smut

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bluewhale52 · 3 years

Text

My Fantasy (M)

Summary: Namjoon has a fantasy he wants to fulfill. You’re more than happy to do it for him.

Pairing: Namjoon x reader

Genre: smut, kinda angtsy and kinda fluffy? Namjoon and OC are friends with benefits

Word count: 4.1k

Rating: 18+/ M/ NSFW. Minors are not welcome here.

Warning: boss - secretary roleplay, breast and nipple play, oral (m & f receiving), face fucking, deep throating, vaginal fingering, unprotected penetrative sex (pls practice safe sex!), multiple orgasm, degradation (Joon calls OC slut a couple of times) soft dom! Joon if you squint, sweet Joon, big tiddie Joon and big biceps Joon because what’s a girl to do when he’s been flaunting it?

Also ON era for Joon reference.

Enjoy, hope you like it 💜

You twirl in front of the floor length mirror in your walk-in wardrobe, and give yourself a satisfied smile.

He’d love this, you think, that you’re wearing just as what he’s asked. The light blue lingerie set is hidden under a cute, lacy shirt and a flowy skirt. You had offered to wear a shorter skirt, one that gives a peep of your ass when you bend over in the slightest. But he refused it- he wanted to leave more to the imagination. And you gladly accept his explanation. It’ll make tonight more fun. You’ll just have to be extra flirty and playful with him.

He arrives five minutes early than the arranged time, as always. You give your place a last look- clean without any sign of personal photos or items, candles with sweet smells of cinnamon-vanilla lit and positioned strategically in your living room. Checking your makeup and your hair one last time, your body tingles as you head to the door.

His tall, lean body fills the doorway easily. He’s grown his hair longer since you last saw him, and you like it. Shaggy strands reaching his eyes, the sides long enough to tuck behind his ears. You’ll have fun tugging his hair tonight. Looking further south, you notice his chest seems broader too, filling his black sweater, making your mouth water. Oh, you’ll have fun scraping your nails on his pecs, all right.

“Namjoon,” you greet him with a sweet, smile, rising on your toes to kiss his cheek.

“Hi _______ ,” he smiles back and gives you a hug. His large hands pressing your back, sending shivers down your spine. He steps into your apartment, and takes a deep breath. “Smells nice in here.”

You hum smugly. “I knew you’d like it.”

“I like what you’re wearing too.” He looks you up and down. “Thanks for letting me pick out your outfit tonight.”

Not just punctual, he’s always so polite and sweet too. That's why he’s your favourite in your little black book.

You twirl for him, your skirt rising slightly above your knees as your turn. “Pretty.” you hear him murmur. But from the way he looks at you, you know pretty is not the only thing he thinks of you now.

You link your fingers with his. “Wine?” you offer.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather drink you up.” He licks his lips.

Your breath hitches at his action. You lead him into your expansive living room, and direct him to sit on your leather sofa, across from your large flat screen TV. It’s a calculated move; he’ll be able to see his and your reflection there.

Namjoon settles himself on your sofa, and you stand between his spread legs. His hands reaches for the hem of your skirt, fingering it gingerly but with great anticipation. You sway your hips slightly, coyly, making your skirt floats playfully over his hands.

“Are you teasing me, little one?” Your skin burns at his pet name for you.

“Do you want me to tease you, Daddy?” He groans. Still standing, you lean forward towards him, arching your back slightly, to push your breasts to his face.

“Hmmm,” he meets you halfway, you can feel his hard chest against your tummy, he is eye level with your breasts, and his hands have moved up to grope your ass over your skirt. And your panties, you can feel them getting wetter by the second.

Namjoon clears his throat. “Do you mind, if tonight you call me Mr Kim?” he asks shyly.

Now you are sure your panties are ruined.

“Not at all. If that’s what you want.” You tuck his hair behind his ear. Yes, you definitely prefer his longer hair.

“It’s just... it’s been a really shitty month at work, and uh... I’ve fantasized about it for weeks...” he trails off.

You run your fingers through his hair. “Ah, I get it. You want me to be an innocent secretary so you can take advantage of me?” You tease him.

He lets our a nervous laughter, burying his face on your chest. Your heart is beating so fast, you’re sure he can feel it.

“So cliche, isn't it?” He looks up at you. God, you are so weak for this man.

You slide your fingers from his hair down to his shoulders. “Oh, Mr Kim,” you demurely say, “your shoulders are so tense. You must be so stressed out from work.”

“I am, Miss _____ ,” he mouths against your chest, you feel his hot breath through your shirt. “Help me take my mind off work?” His hands are still over your skirt, rubbing up and down your the back of your thighs.

You moan when he suddenly rubs harder, dragging your skirt material up towards your ass. “How can I help you, sir?” You meet his eyes, your voice breathy. This part is not an act, you are truly desperate for him.

He leans back on the sofa, and you almost whine out loud when his hands leave your legs. “You can start by showing me your pretty panties.” His eyes stare at your core.

Putting on a shy smile, you reach the hem of your skirt and slowly pulls it up, until your light blue satin panties are in full view for Namjoon. He exhales steadily, his firm gaze makes you ache for him even more.

“You like what you see, Mr Ki- Ah!” You moan out loud as his finger slides between your legs, pressing onto your slit over your panties. He drags the tip lazily forward, but stops just before reaching your clit.

“Why don’t you turn around, let me see it from the back?” You obediently do as he asks. “Bend over, put your hands on the coffee table.”

You suppress your moan as you get into position. With his legs between yours, he wedges you to stand with feet apart, spread as wide as possible. You bend forward, resting your elbows on the coffee table, silently thanking your daily yoga regiments.

Namjoon flips your skirt over your bottom, and you can hear him shuffling forward. You look up to your TV, seeing your wanton self reflected on the screen. You gasp and close your eyes as you feel Namjoon’s nose poking at your sex.

“You smell so good,” you shudder at his breath over your slit. “And you are so fucking wet. Did I make you wet, Miss _____ ?”

You whimper. “Yes, Mr Kim, you always make me so wet.”

Namjoon flattens his tongue on your panties. You nearly wail at the sensation. “Mr Kim!” Your body jerks forward, but somehow you manage to grind yourself back at his mouth.

His fingers are at the waistband of your panties. “Take them off.”

You straighten up and quickly pull your panties down, your back still to Namjoon, and his hands bunching your skirt around your waist. Then you spread your legs again, and you bend forward, slowly, giving him a full view of your bare pussy and ass.

You swear you hear him whine before he roughly grabs your ass and spread your asscheeks. His mouth immediately latches onto your cunt, tongue greedily pokes into your dripping hole, before it moves upwards to the skin between your pussy and your asshole. You sob his name out loud and your whole body shudders at his ministrations.

“Taste so good,” Namjoon says between licks. “I’m going to eat you out all night.” Lick. “Gonna make you cum on my tongue over and over.” Lick. “Gonna drink you up.” Lick.

“Mr Kim, Mr Kim...” you chant his name like a prayer. “I’m so close...”

“Already?” Amusement clear in his voice. “I’ve only just started, little one. Such a slut, are you, impatient to cum for me?”

“Please, Mr Kim...” you beg, when you feel Namjoon’s mouth leaving your soaking core. “I want to cum so bad. For you.” You look up and catch your reflection, and Namjoon’s, on the TV. You look so desperate. And Namjoon’s reflection smirks at you.

He returns to your dripping cunt, starts to lap up at your juices even more hungrily. His large hands are on your ass cheeks still, fingers digging, moulding your flesh this way and that.

Your clit is throbbing painfully, you can’t believe he hasn’t even touch it since you started. Your legs are shaking more now, you feel the lusty tautness all over your body. Namjoon’s tongue moves up and circles your puckered hole, making you cry out his name. Then he quickly goes back to your wet hole, tongue-fucking you to your orgasm and through it.

Namjoon patiently waits till you come down from your high. He helps you stand up, his hands rubbing all over your body, easing the achiness from being bent over for an extended period of time.

“Are you OK, little one?” He envelops you from behind. You sigh as you feel your skirt floats down to cover your bare sex and ass. You nod.

“That was amazing, Mr Kim,” you answer, still breathless. “You make me feel so good.”

“I love making you feel good, you deserve it.” Groaning against your hair, Namjoon cups your breasts. The lace on your shirt feels rough against his hands. He can't wait to feel your satin bra underneath.

“I’ve fantasised this so many times, little one. Spreading you on my desk, eating your pretty little cunt.” He leans down to nibble on your ear. “You hiding under my desk, sucking me off. Seeing these tits bounce as you ride me in my office. Fucking you against the wall in the restroom.”

You lean back against Namjoon, your juices continue leaking down your thighs. Your heart is pounding so hard against your chest and Namjoon feels it, his hands kneading your breasts harder. You press yourself closer to him, his hard cock poking against your lower back and you drool at the feel of it.

Turning around, you palm and stroke Namjoon’s cock over his slacks. “Can I suck you, Mr Kim?”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I told you little one, I want to make you cum over and over with my tongue tonight.”

“But you’re so hard,” you pout cutely. Namjoon taps your nose.

“You'll get my cock soon enough. After I make you cum again. OK, little one?”

You let Namjoon move you, to sit you on the sofa, your ass close to the edge. He kneels between your legs, instructing you to lift the front of your skirt. Once again bared to him, he swallows thickly. He breathes in the smell of your sex, his mind drunk for you. He can’t get enough. You always make him want more.

Namjoon grabs your legs and lifting them to form an erotic V. You feel yourself pulsate down there, squeezing out arousal to drip down onto your skirt underneath. He dives in greedily.

You’re pretty sure you're howling as Namjoon makes out with your sex for the second time tonight. You’ve never met anyone who loves giving oral as much as Namjoon does, or anyone who is so good at it. His mouth and tongue continuously draw out more and more of your sweet nectar. He gulps it down like a man starved.

Namjoon can feel your thighs shaking again. He doesn’t want you to cum yet. He removes his mouth, and you are about to protest when you see his mouth and chin glistening with your arousal. Raising himself up till he is face to face to you, Namjoon replaces his mouth with his fingers. You gasp as he slides two fingers in smoothly, eased by your natural lubrication.

He kisses you as he fingers you. And your chest contracts at every movement his lips and tongue against yours. You can taste yourself, but you taste him too. Coffee, and something spicy. But there's more. You’ve hardly ever kissed during your sessions; a little peck here and there to say hello and goodbye, but never this kind of kiss when you’re both chasing pleasures, and never this.... passionate.

Namjoon pulls away, panting, breaking the kiss. He looks as affected as you are. “Unbutton your blouse.” He gruffly orders. The squelching sound his fingers in your wet hole fill the air. You undo the top three button of your top then he stops you. He can see the top of your breasts, and the light blue satin material supporting your globe is peeking out. “One more button.”

Namjoon feels weak. You, his sweet girl, are spread open before him like a goddamn buffet. He rests his head between your breasts, feeling your heartbeat on his skin, crazily in sync with his, while his fingers are wrapped tightly within your walls. He licks the top of your breast, just above the bra. Your skin breaks into goosebumps.

Namjoon inserts a third finger, and you squeal. He bites down and sucks on your skin as you clench tightly at the new intrusion. Your fingers find their way to his hair, tugging his strands as he continues to leave marks on your breast.

He pushes down the cups of your bra, freeing your breasts, then he sucks your nipples alternately. With every hard tug from his mouth, you close in sharply on his fingers.

“You feel so good, fuck. Why do you always feel so good?” He mumbles against your globes.

You’re rendered speechless. The assault of his fingers and his mouth on your body is deliciously sinful. “J- Jo... Mr Kim... please...” you beg. You want to cum. That’s all you want right now, to cum for Namjoon.

Namjoon returns to your core, wrapping his mouth around your needy clit, his tongue immediately goes into overdrive flicking it. He adds a fourth finger into you, and his free hand reaches to your nipple to continue tugging and pinching it. You throw your head back, your hands pressing Namjoon’s head tighter onto your weeping sex, and soon your body convulses, your second orgasm hitting you like a truck.

Namjoon lets go of your clit and your nipple, but his four fingers are still pumping into you, albeit at a slower pace. He kisses you again, his body pressing you deeper into your sofa. “Sweet, so sweet,” he says between kisses, “my little one.”

There it is again, the squeeze around your heart. You break the kiss, in need for air, and Namjoon rests his forehand on yours. Slowly, he pulls his fingers out and licks his thumb and ring finger. His pointer and middle finger, he offers them to you.

Eagerly, you part your lips and suck his fingers in. Swirling your tongue around them, you close your eyes as you savour your own taste. Namjoon stands up, taking you along with him. He smiles at your state of undress.

“Bedroom?” You offer, tucking your breasts back into your bra. You leave your top unbuttoned. Namjoon nods.

Once inside your room, you sit on the edge of the bed, Namjoon standing before you between your legs. He strokes your hair tenderly as you work his belt and his slacks, then his boxers.

His long, heavy cock greets you. “May I, Mr Kim?”

“Of course, little one.” At his permission, you kiss the little slit at the tip, sucking the precum off. Then you run your tongue up and down his shaft, before you close your lips around the head to start taking him in.

Relaxing your jaws, you let his length slides deeper, until you feel the head meeting your throat. You whimper, and Namjoon rubs your cheek encouragingly. “Relax, little one, you can take it.”

Controlling your breathing, you push yourself to take the rest of him in, until your nose bumps his skin. Namjoon hisses above you, cursing and praising you at the same time. Wrapping your lips tighter, you pull out leisurely, before taking his hot throbbing member back in.

Namjoon watches you deep-throating him a few more times, enjoying your wet mouth, before he commands you to grab onto his hips. You follow him obediently, and he wraps your hair around his hand. “Ready, little one?” You nod. “Remember to pinch me if it gets too much.” You nod again, unable to speak as his cock still fills your mouth.

Without warning, he holds your head steady as he starts to fuck your mouth roughly. You close your eyes, focusing your throat and mouth to relax as his cock pistons furiously. As Namjoon moans above you, you close your eyes and tears start streaking down your cheek. Your saliva drools out with every thrust, your hands grip his hips more tightly. But you don’t pinch him.

Instead you open your eyes and look up at him. He moans as he stares down your face, his face scrunching up. “God, little one, your mouth is a sin.” You moan against his pulsing member. His hips are starting to stutter, and with a curse he pulls out suddenly.

Still holding your hair tightly, he frenziedly pumps himself. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, ready to receive him. Crying out your name, his seed spurts out, painting your lower face.

Once empty, Namjoon leans over you, his head on your shoulder as he calms down. “Joon,” you drop your role-play act, “your sweater will get dirty.” You try to inch yourself away to avoid staining his clothes with his cum on your face.

“Mmmm, don’t care.” He mumbles. You chuckle and gently push him onto the bed. Opening his eyes, he watch you as you lick his cum off your lips. “So hot, you always look so hot with my cum on you.”

You see his flacid cock twitch slightly. “Is Mr Kim all de-stressed now?” you coo at him, playing with his hair.

“Not until I get to feel that sweet cunt, little one. Strip for me, make me hard again.”

You stand up, and seductively start to unbutton the rest of your blouse. Once it’s on the floor, you unclasp your bra and hook it around his neck to pull him closer to you for a kiss. He then mouths at your bare chest, but you tut at him. You help him take off his sweater and the shirt underneath, and you finally get to run your hands over his hard pecs. You drag your fingers over his skin, and he grabs your waist. Your skirt is the remaining article on your body. You pull it down, finally fully naked before Namjoon.

You take a step back, out of Namjoon’s hold. You glide your hands from your hips, up the sides of your body, then to cup your breasts. “You like what you see, Mr Kim?” Teasingly, you move your hands down your stomach, then back up around your bosom, to your neck, gathering up your hair, holding it at the top of your head.

Namjoon is hard again, from watching you feeling yourself up. Once his cock is standing at full attention, you step back to the space between his legs. “How do you want me to fuck you, little one?”

“Let me ride you, Mr Kim.”

Namjoon moves back to sit himself against the headboard. You crawl on the bed, towards him. Positioning yourself above him, he cups your pussy. “Hmm, still wet for me, little one.”

“Always, Mr Kim. Only you can make me this wet.” You’re shocked at your own sincerity. But it is true- lately he’s all you can think about.

Bracing yourself on his shoulders, you let him guide his cock into your hole. You sigh as he breaches you, his hands firm on your waist, helping you sinking further down on him. You wince as he bottoms out, he always feels so deep in you. “So full, Mr Kim.”

“I love stretching you little one,” he nuzzles against your neck. “Your tight pussy always takes my fat cock so well.”

You start grinding over him, rolling your hips around while you tighten your inner walls to massage his cock inside you. Satisfied with the groans you elicit from his mouth, you start to move up and down. Little bounces at first, and soon you become greedy. You work your thigh muscles to lift you higher, then to lose yourself down his length.

With every movement, your breasts jiggle right in front of Namjoon. The look on his face spurs you on. Picking up your pace, you ride him harder and faster. Your bedroom is soon filled with the sounds of your panting, Namjoon’s groans, and the slapping of your skin against his.

Namjoon can’t take his eyes off of you. His eyes keep darting from the gradually fucked out expression on your face, to your juicy tits jumping wildly before him, and to his cock slipping so smoothly in and out of you. He is drunk on your sight, your smell, your touch. How his cock is so slippery, coated by your mouthwatering extract. How you breathe his name as you chase your peak.

Namjoon hand slides up to your neck and he closes his fingers around you. Squeezing slightly, you gasp, losing your momentum, and Namjoon slams his hips upwards into you. Your eyes widened, your mouth letting out a silent scream. He pounds into you a few more times, each time harder than the previous one, and he releases your throat once he hears you sob.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close and tightly to him. “Good girl, such a good girl for me, little one.” He praises you. “Such a good slut for me and my cock.” You mewl.

“I want to fuck you stupid. To ruin you.” Namjoon holds your waist again. His hips thrust upwards mercilessly into you. “To make you want no other cock but mine. I want you to cream for my cock and my cock only.”

You start to cry, he is hitting so deep within you, you’re sure he will split you in half. You grab onto his biceps, feeling the muscles tensing as he continues to pump into you.

“Miste- ohhh! Ooooh! Namjo...” you babble incoherently. The pleasure of being impaled is turning your mind into mush. “Clo.. ooh so close...”

Namjoon sucks your neck. “So am I. little one.” He moans pitifully. “Cum with me, ______, please.”

After only a few more thrusts, your body jerks as you reach your climax. You hug Namjoon as you convulses violently around him, sending him towards his orgasm too. He explodes inside you, shooting his cum deep into you.

Clinging to each other, your sweaty bodies sticky as your breathing slows down and the ringing in your ears disappear. You open your eyes, to find Namjoon’s still closed, and you cup his face tenderly. Exhausted, you nestle yourself in the crook of is neck. His hand lazily rubs little circles on your lower back.

You and Namjoon stay in that position, god knows how long. You’ve never cuddled like this before, this is a new level of intimacy foreign yet not unwelcome. You force yourself to pull out of his embrace, before it gets too far.

Plopping yourself to sit next to him, you break the silence. “That was amazing, Namjoon. The best s-”

“Let me stay the night.” Namjoon cuts you off. Your heart stops. "Let me be more than just a fuck and go.”

You gulp audibly. This is against your agreement, five months ago, when you and Namjoon entered into a mutually beneficial arrangement. No feelings, just sex. That was what you both agreed on. He was just to be a name on your list to call when you feel like it. How did it become more than that?

You tear up. You can’t help it. You can’t deny it felt different tonight.

Namjoon rubs his hands over his face. “I’m sorry, I should’ve kept my mouth shut.” He gets up from your bed. “I thought there was something. I thought I felt something. Obviously I was wrong. It was just my fantasy.”

Dejected, he starts to pick up his clothes. You jump out and stop him. “Joon,” you hug him, as tight as you can, unwilling to let him leave. “It was my fantasy too.”

Namjoon freezes at your confession. Tilting your face up, you look into his eyes. “Stay the night. Please.” you plead.

Dropping his clothes, he cups your ass, and he hoists you up. You automatically wrap your legs around him, your arms around his neck. Carrying you to your bathroom, he whispers, “My sweet little one. My one and only.”

You whisper back, “My Joonie. My love.”

Published 12012021

#thetruthuntoldnet #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts smut #namjoon smut #bts fan fiction #bts imagines #kim namjoon #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x oc #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts scenarios #big tiddie joon #buff joon #noonasinnetwork

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like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

A Last Goodbye (Athenodora & Caius Volturi x child!Reader)

The only time the permanent guards, the wives and the leaders all were in the same room meant that something had happened and it just so happened that every time it did occur it was because something very bad had happened. Athenodora was practically glued to Caius' side by his throne. Sulpicia stood by Athenodora, Aro stood before his throne in silence for what could only be described as in deep thought.

"Do you know what has happened?" Athenodora quietly asked Caius who shook his head but grabbed her hand that rested on her shoulder. "Dear ones, I have...I have news that I find so important that I must gather you all so that you hear it first hand." Aro finally said. Caius stood up and Athenodora immediately coiled her arms around his arm. "What is this about Aro?" Caius asked, taken aback by his brothers behaviour. "I regret to inform you all, that our dear (Y/N) has passed away." Gasps filled the room.

You were Caius and Athenodora's child. You were gifted with the ability to time travel and now that you were older, you were able to control it. With that, you were given permission to travel. As you had promised your parents you were never gone longer than a couple of days. You were also told that with any sign of danger you had to come home. Being adopted by them made you their miracle child that they could never have and for that they were very protective of you.

Athenodora's heart shattered, she was sure of it. She felt the pieces crumble down to the pit of her stomach. She couldn't find words, she could only stare at Aro and wait for him to clarify. That her baby wasn't dead. Caius also stared at Aro. He too was unable to find the words. Aro continued. "I collected every fragment of information I could." "Not my baby..." Everyone looked to Athenodora who was slowly shaking her head. "Not my baby." She said again. "Athenodora-" Aro began. "You're wrong!" Athenodora cried out. "Where are they!? Where is my child!?" "Let me explain." Aro said calmly. Caius' hold tightened on Athenodora as he looked like he was about to explode, trying desperately to cling to any composure he had. "Demetri hasn't been able to track them since they left." Aro said gently. "This was left at out door step." Aro held out an article of bloodied clothing that was all to familiar.

Athenodora sucked in a gasp before nearly falling to her knees. Caius' eyes widening as his heart ripped in half within his chest. They knew it was yours, it still smelled like you with a different scent that was very familiar. Blood stains coated the shirt. Within seconds, Athenodora fell to her knees. Caius not far behind her. "The Romanians..." Athenodora's voice quivered, her voice low. "...killed my baby." Aro looked at her with dread but slowly nodded. Caius' grip on Athenodora's upper arms was tight, his head against the back of hers as his rage, grief and pain steadily built, the shock wearing off whilst scraping every ounce of his ability to keep calm for his broken wife. Caius then stepped forward, taking the clothing out of Aro's hands. He stared down at it, willing it to be different, for it to not be the shirt you had left in. However, without mistake, it was. A strangled noise escaped him, looking at the large blood stains.

Even hours later, Caius wouldn't put it down, he could take his eyes from it for even a moment in case he missed one tiny detail that didn't make it a match. Athenodora had since isolated herself in the tower in complete silence. "They won't find death easily, brother." Aro promised from behind him, referring to the Romanians. "That we can assure you." Caius said nothing, finally giving the clothing to Marcus. Suddenly he threw the table across the room with a pained cry fully of rage, destroying everything in his path. Nearly destroying half the room before anyone could stop him.

Caius finally returned to Athenodora, silently, but calmer than he previously had been. He had to be strong for her. That he knew but he wasn't to fall apart as he found his wife on the floor, wailing in agony of a broken heart. Tears wouldn't fall yet in her state, they weren't needed to show her pain. He saw her eyes, matching his own in a shade of charcoal black. Gently he took her into his arms as she cried. "I know." He said lowly. "I know." "They were my whole world...and now they're gone." Athenodora sobbed, curling into herself.

Two nights had past. Much like the days, they had become longer. The castle more quiet, most in mourning of your passing or avoiding everyone as the tension grew more and more. The third night was no different. Caius decided to take Athenodora a walk around the castle in attempt to get her out of the tower, more necessary now than it ever had been. He almost had to pull her along, an emptiness behind her black eyes. after a couple of steps into the throne room, the two suddenly stopped at the sight in front of them.

The child's back was towards them but they knew. They knew who the child was immediately. They could recognise that beautiful hair anywhere. "(Y/N)?" Athenodora called out shakily. You turned with a smile. "Hi mum!" "Hi sweetie." Athenodora could barely manage the words out. You looked to be eight years old. Both she and Caius remembered that time well. You were struggling with your gift. Struggling to control it and there was often times you travelled accidentally. Painfully, they could also remember you telling them of this meeting after being gone for a period of time that had them worried.

"I saw you!" You explained looking between Caius and Athenodora. "You did?" Caius asked pulling you into his side, looking down at you. "Yes! You were from the future! You told me that I was all grown up! Fifteen years old!" "Oh my." Athenodora smiled down at you. Your face suddenly faltered. "You looked really sad." You admitted quietly. "We did?" Athenodora tilted her head. "Yes, I told them to tell me- the older me! That the older me would cheer them up!" Athenodora hummed in amusement. "That's a wonderful idea, my love. I have no doubt that will have worked." Caius lifted you onto his hip. "I agree, you always help us feel better when you put your mind to it, don't you?"

"It's so wonderful to see you again." Athenodora wore a broken and pained smile as she kneeled down to your level. "Where was I before?" You looked at her in confusion and Caius was quick to respond. "What we mean to say is that it's been a very long time since we've seen you at this age. You're fifteen years old for us." Caius said softly, he too kneeling beside Athenodora. "Oh! I'm in the future!? Wow! You know, I went to bed like you told me to! I promise I did! But then I just...got here." Athenodora nodded, stroking your soft cheek. "I'm sure you did. We remember you finding it difficult to stay with us at times." She offered you a small smile. "Does it get better? When I grow up, am I able to stay?" You asked, strangely solemn. Caius nods. "Yes. You get very good at it. Just be patient, little one." He responded.

You looked between your parents. "What's wrong? Did I do something wrong?" Athenodora looked at you. "What is it, sweetheart?" "You both look...sad. your eyes are black." You pointed to one of Athenodora's eyes. "Did I do something bad?" Athenodora and Caius quickly shook their heads. "No, of course not." The two quickly answered, out of time but making sure you understood. "Come here, sweetheart." Athenodora said with a smile and outstretching her arms. You moved into her hold immediately. Athenodora ran her fingers through your hair, holding you tightly and feeling your warmth. She inhaled, taking in the scent knowing it was likely this meeting would be the last. Regardless it was a gift, because she'd get to hold you one last time. "You need to tell the bigger me to make you happy okay? I don't like it when your sad." "You make us happy every day, little one." Caius responded softly. Athenodora broke away allowing Caius to tug you into his own hug. You nuzzled into his neck, just as you always had when you were younger. He had missed it, your childish dependency and ever lasting love for him. So much so, that he wasn't sure he could let you go now that he had you in his arms. Now that he knew, what would happen to you merely a few years later. He could do nothing but close his eyes as he held you, clenching his jaw holding back tears that would never fall. Eventually he found the strength to release you, if he hadn't then you'd have known something was very wrong and you'd be scared. That was the last thing he wanted. He wanted his final moments to be with you happy and as you are.

Athenodora pulled you into to one last hug. "I think it's time to go back, sweetheart. Don't you?" You nodded with a hum. Within seconds you were gone and Athenodora fell forward, arms now wrapped around nothing. Caius caught her. He always did. Caius was quick to pull her into his arms, staring at the space that your younger self had previously stood before them.

#twilight #volturi #the volturi #athenodora volturi #caius volturi #child!reader #one shot #oneshot

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castexpectopatronum · 3 years

Text

Liquid Amber - Part V [Remus Lupin x Reader Imagine]

Summary: You had been crushing on Remus Lupin for an eternity when you finally decided to ask him out. However, things do not go as planned and you remain wondering just what exactly is going on with this boy.

notes: reupload because the original got deleated

trigger warnings: none

word count: 2.3k

Masterlist

Time stretched like a package of Droobles Best Chewing Gum. With every glance you took at the clock, its hand seemed to be creeping along even slower, taunting you, torturing you, until the constant ticking was the only thing echoing in your mind.

When the time to meet Remus had finally arrived, it seemed like a miracle to you. You already went to the now empty Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom thirty minutes early because you couldn’t stand the waiting any longer, but you found you weren’t any less nervous there than before. Your heart was thumping, your palms were sweating, the blood was rushing in your ears...

You were sitting on the teacher’s desk, the heels of your feet bumping steadily against the wood as you swung your legs to an unheard rhythm.

Ten to eight.

There was no need for Remus to be as overly punctual as you were.

Nine to eight.

There was still enough time.

Eight to eight.

Words were swirling around in your mind, but you failed spectacularly at putting them in a consistent order. Nothing made sense. Nothing had meaning.

Six to eight.

The heels of your feet were numb from colliding with the desk. You didn’t stop.

Five to eight.

Enough time...

Four to eight.

Was this really such a good idea? Maybe he would get angry. It was his own business, after all.

Three to eight.

No. You had to talk to him. Even if he didn’t want you to interfere in any way, he had the right to know that you knew.

Two to eight.

He was not running late. Not yet.

One to eight.

Not yet.

The clock stroke eight o’clock.

Remus wasn’t there.

At five past eight, you were still patiently waiting. At ten past eight your legs stopped swinging. At twenty past eight you turned your eyes away from the clock. And at half past eight you admitted to yourself that Remus wouldn’t be coming. That he had never planned on coming at all.

You weren’t surprised. In some way, you were actually almost thankful that he had freed you from having this conversation you had been so nervous about the entire day. But for the most part, you were simply disappointed. Yes, you had known better, but hoped for so much more. Hoped for him to at least listen to you. Just this once. This one time when you had so much to say.

You didn’t leave immediately. For a while, you just sat there on the desk, alone with your thoughts. The clock’s hand crept on, its ticking echoing in the dark classroom, wandering from half past eight to twenty to nine to ten to nine, and you were still sitting there in the dark classroom, still hoping for what you knew wouldn’t happen.

You knew it was time to leave. But you couldn’t quite bring yourself to it. Not just yet...

It was almost nine when the door to the classroom suddenly creaked open and a figure stepped in, tall and slender. You lifted your head, not trusting your eyes on what they were seeing.

Remus seemed almost startled to see you there but still he smiled at you. It was a rather forced smile but it was a smile nonetheless. He could have yelled at you for all you cared – he had shown up and that was all that mattered.

Remus closed the door behind him. “I didn’t think you’d still be here,” he admitted and stuffed his hands deep into the pockets of his trousers.

You gave him a weak smile from your place on the desk. “I’m somewhat surprised myself.”

“So...” Remus took a few steps into the room. “You wanted to talk?”

You nodded, so slightly it was almost impossible for him to see in the darkness. “I’m glad you came,” you said quietly.

Remus made an odd motion, a mixture of a shrug and a nod. “I figured I owe you at least that.”

You breathed a laugh. “For turning me down? I told you before, Remus. It’s okay.”

The corner of his mouth curled up in an awkward smile, and his eyes began to flicker around the room to avoid your gaze. You didn’t mind much. You knew he was listening.

“I knew there was something going on with you,” you began. “You seemed so troubled and you were sick so often... I knew something was off and I wanted to help you. But you wouldn’t tell me what was going on, so... I took matters into my own hand.”

Remus furrowed his eyebrows. An alarming look appeared in his eyes, the same look you had seen when you had visited him in the Hospital Wing. It seemed like ages ago.

“I did a lot of research,” you continued. “The amount of books I read... I don’t think anyone in this castle knows more about magical diseases than I do, so if you have questions, I’m your guy.”

Remus didn’t laugh. He stood, still as a statue, and stared at you with a look of pure horror in his eyes he didn’t even bother to hide.

You let out a quiet sigh. “I know, Remus.”

For a moment, there was dead silence. Then-

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Remus-”

“No.”

He turned on his heel and was halfway through the classroom when you said, “Remus, please.”

To your surprise, he stopped, almost at the door, but he didn’t turn around. You heard his sharp breaths and the ticking of the clock on the wall.

“How long have you known?”

“A few days,” you answered. “Maybe a week.”

His shoulders had dropped defeatedly. His head was lowered; he was staring at the ground. You wished you could have been able to see his face but he still had his back turned towards you.

“Is that why you’ve ordered me here?“ he suddenly asked in a hoarse voice. “To tell me you know what I am? To tell me I’m a monster?”

Your head snatched up; a deep frown appeared on your face and you jumped from the desk. Without delay you walked straight through the classroom, stepping around Remus so you were able to face him.

His gaze was still lowered to the floor; he was fixing the stone with his eyes, refusing to look at you.

But you looked at him.

“You’re not the monster, Remus,” you said firmly. “You’re the victim.”

Remus blinked and raised his head. For a moment, there was only the look of confusion on his face. “W-What?”

You smiled softly. “You heard me. Stop putting yourself down for something that isn’t your fault.”

Remus breathed a bitter laugh and looked away. A muscle in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I’ve done my research, Remus,“ you said. “The wolf is a part of you. But it’s not you.”

Remus’ entire body was shaking although he was wearing both his jumper and robes, and his chest was rising and falling heavily.

“I’ve ’ordered’ you here to tell you I know you’re a werewolf,” you continued, your voice remaining firm even when you saw Remus flinching at the word. “And to tell you it doesn’t change a thing.”

Remus’ eyes were fixed on your own. Your heart raced as you looked at him and you wanted nothing more than to wrap your arms around him and tell him everything would be okay. But you knew he would just run off again like he always did.

“You... You don’t think I’m a-” He halted, forcing the words to come out of his mouth. “I’m a-”

“Monster?” You smiled bitterly. “No. No, I don’t.”

You hadn’t felt like lighting the room when you had entered, so there was not even candlelight to enlighten it. Remus’ face was hidden in the shadows; only because you were standing so close to each other could you make out his expression. His eyes were grazing over your face, a frown on his face. He looked like he didn’t know what to say. Or even think.

“I told you I wanted to help you,” you whispered and took a step closer. Remus gulped, but he didn’t turn away from you. “But I can only help you if you’ll let me.”

“You can’t help me,” he muttered.

“I refuse to accept that,” you said.

Remus breathed a laugh. “You’re a persistent one, aren’t you?”

“You’re saying that as though it was something bad,” you replied with twinkling eyes.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “I suppose it depends on the person.”

„I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Remus chuckled. Then, his expression turned more solemn again. “Are you... Do you really...”

He found himself unable to finish the question, but he didn’t have to for you to understand.

“Yes, I do,” you said with a gentle smile. “Remember what I told you back in the Hospital Wing?” Remus cocked his head slightly to the side. “I told you whatever it was that you were going through, it could never change my opinion on you. And I was right, wasn’t I? I still feel the same way about you I did all those weeks ago.”

A smile had appeared on Remus’ face but when you spoke the last part of your sentence, he suddenly furrowed his eyebrows. “Feel?”

Your breath hitched in your throat as you realised your mistake. “Think,” you said quickly. “I meant ... think.”

“(Y/N)...”

“It doesn’t matter, really...”

But suddenly, Remus had bent down and kissed you. It wasn’t more than a light touch of your lips, but it was enough to make your heart stop in your chest.

After only a moment, Remus pulled back, though, slowly, his mouth slightly agape. You stared at him with wide eyes as he straightened up again, seemingly startled by what he had just done.

“I’m – I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“Remus-”

“I should’ve asked you first-”

“Remus!”

Remus fell silent. His chest was rising and falling heavily as he stared down at you. You still couldn’t see his face, but you were sure a blush was rising to his cheeks.

A smile spread out on your face as you slowly stepped forward, your hand lying on his chest, causing him to walk backwards until he stumbled against his desk and sat down.

For a moment, you simply took him in, biting your lip as you did and smiling to yourself. Remus’ brown hair was falling into his forehead and his soft eyes were gazing into your own, flickered from your eyes to your lips and back to your eyes. Your smile widened as you slowly leaned it, your face inching towards his.

Remus still had the time to stop you if he wanted to. But he didn’t. He sat there and waited, his breath going faster each moment. He licked his lips nervously; your breath mingled with his, your heart thumped in your chest, your noses brushed...

And then, your lips touched.

It was soft, at first, light as a feather. Your lips carefully moved against each other, testing, exploring, only slowly daring to go further. You heart was doing cartwheels in your chest as your fingers moved up his thighs and his own, big hands snuck around your waist to pull you closer. You tilted your head slightly to the side, your lips moved faster, the kiss became deeper; Remus arms were now hugging your back, pressing you as close as possible while yours were tightly wrapped around his neck, one hand entangled in his soft, thick hair. You two were clinging to each other as though you were drowning, the kiss becoming deeper and more desperate with each moment.

Only when you were in need of air did you break this kiss. But you didn’t let go of each other. Breathing heavily, you stared into each other’s eyes and then leaned forwards to rest your foreheads against each other.

Suddenly, you breathed a laugh. “Wow.”

Remus chuckled. “Yeah. Wow.”

You grinned. “This conversation turned out better than I expected.”

A smile appeared on Remus’ face. “I must say I haven’t expected that either.”

“So... that thing that we do, that we don’t talk to each other... I take it that’s over now?” you asked, seemingly casual, but your stomach tightly knotted together.

A shadow flickered over Remus’ face.

Your fingers strocked his neck, kept him in place. “Let me help you, Remus. Please.”

But Remus let go of you. He loosened your grip around his neck and let out a deep breath as he lowered your hands, intertwining your fingers. Then, he pressed a soft kiss to your hand.

“There’s only so much you can do,” he whispered against your fingers. “But if that’s truly what you want.”

“It is,” you breathed. “I care about you, Remus. A lot. And I want to help you.”

“Why?”

You lifted your gaze. Remus was looking at you with such vulnerability in his soft eyes that it took your breath away. “Because you’re a good person, Remus. And I really, really like you. Like, my-heart-stops-beating-every-time-you-walk-by-and-I-want-to-take-you-out-for-dinner-kind of like.”

Remus let out a shaky breath. He was silent for such a long time that you began to fear you had overstepped your boundaries. But then, he said “I’d also like to take you out for dinner.”

You laughed. Your knees turned weak with relief. “That sounds like a plan,” you whispered, a smile playing at your lips, and leaned in to kiss him once more; a kiss which Remus was more than happy to return.

Turned out Remus did like you, after all.

#remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus lupin imagine #marauders imagine #marauders era imagine #liquid amber #part v

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loversandantiheroes · 4 years

Note

not to come yell at you or anything but i saw those frankie tags 👀 and i am in *need*

Lord, that is a whole-ass mood. Needy!Frankie lives rent-free in my brain 24/7. Like this exact scenario has been in my head for w e e k s and I just haven’t had the braincells to get it down. But hey, no time like the present, right? *cracks knuckles*

1.5k of unbeta’d and unedited Needy!Frankie smut, f!receiving oral, with a side of frankie x floor (I kid, mostly).

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

As soon as Frankie pulls in the drive, you know something’s wrong. He takes the turn just a little too sharp, engine running too hot and too loud before he kills it. There’s a long beat of silence, long enough that you begin to think that maybe you were just overthinking things. But then there’s the unmistakable sound of the driver side door slamming shut, and your feet are already carrying you towards the front door.

You’re halfway down the hall when you hear his keys rattling in the door – and they keep rattling, the doorknob twisting as far as the lock will allow before releasing back. Either he can’t get the key in the lock, or he can’t quite make it catch. The mechanism clicks, straining, and for a second you’re afraid he’ll break the thing out of pure frustration.

“Ease up, Frankie,” you call through the door. “I’m here, baby, I got it.”

The rattling ceases, and you hear the unmistakable thump of Frankie’s head coming to rest against the wood.

“Querida,” he says. “I can’t...I can’t get the fucking door.” It’s muffled through the wood, but there is a catch of tearful frustration in his voice that makes your heart beat a little faster as you undo the locks.

When the door swings open you’ve only got a second to take in the look of him – his eyes strained under the shadow of his crooked ball cap – before he’s pushing against you, crowding you back into the hall. He catches the door with a heel and kicks it shut so hard the windows rattle in their frames.

“Hey, hey,” you try to soothe, pushing his hat off to smooth his hair back. “What is it, what’s wrong?”

He only shakes his head, breathing hard and quick through his nose like an agitated bull. His throat works, fighting to swallow or to speak, you’re not sure. His hands fall heavy against your hips, fingers curling into the waistband of your jeans and tugging. “Please, baby,” he mutters in a voice so strained it’s on the verge of breaking. His fingers slide around until his thumb rests on the button of your fly. “I need it. I need you. I–”

You nod, stroking your thumbs over the overgrown stubble on his jaw. This isn’t the first time you’ve been here. Something's gone wrong today. It might be something big, it might be nothing, but whatever it was was enough to shake him down and leave him feeling like he can’t do anything right. He’ll explain it to you later when he can breathe again, when his shoulders aren’t pulled up in one solid knot and his jaw has finally unclenched. He always does. But right now, more than anything else, he needs to prove that he can do something right.

And that’s you.

“I’m right here, Frankie,” you tell him with a willing nod. “You got me.”

Frankie makes a soft, desperate little noise in the back of his throat and carries you wordlessly to the floor, unable or unwilling to wait long enough to get you into bed. His mouth is on yours only for a moment, just long enough for a hard, grateful kiss before he moves down your body. He’s too needy to be gentle, too desperate. You’re sure you hear stitches ripping as he yanks your fly open and drags your jeans and underwear both down to your ankles. They bunch up around your sneakers, but Frankie's normally dexterous hands are too unsteady for that, clumsy with need and agitation, so he just pushes your legs up and ducks under them, settling on the floor between your bared thighs.

When his mouth finds you, you sigh and he groans. The sound resonates through his whole body and into you, buzzing against your thighs and the closed seam of your cunt. His hair is rough with the salt of dried sweat as you work your fingers into it, tipping your hips up as you press his head down. His hands slide up between your thighs, pushing them aside, and it takes a little effort to keep your ankles from knocking into the back of his head as he opens you wider.

On a good day Frankie Morales is one of the most patient men you’ve ever met, in bed or out of it. He’ll coax you open slowly, work you over with his hands and mouth – and always his whole mouth, none of that timid tongue-flicking bullshit – until you’re wet and open and ready for whatever he wants to give you. Even if it’s just more of his graciously worshipful mouth.

But this is not a good day, and in place of that gentle patience there is an almost feral hunger. Frankie parts you with his fingers, opening you up to drag the flat of his tongue up from your entrance to your clit over and over in hard, aggressive strokes.

You keep your fingers moving through his hair, breath turning ragged as he fits his mouth to you, lapping and sucking eagerly at your sex.

“Baby,” he murmurs, lips dragging against your clit. It’s pitched up and plaintive like he’s begging, but he can’t find the words to fit what he needs.

“Yes, Frankie,” you answer, shuddering as his teeth press briefly against your tender flesh. “God yes, baby. You’re always so good.”

And there’s that desperate little sound at the back of his throat again as his broad hands grip the soft flesh of your thighs tight. His shoulders shift under you, your legs rocking up and back, and you look down to find him rutting his hips shamelessly against the floor.

There. That’s what he needs. And that’s easy enough to give, praises flowing out of you steadily as you roll your hips against his voracious mouth. “So good, Frankie,” you breathe. “You’re getting me so wet, baby, I can feel it.”

Instantly his tongue trails down, delving into you with a strength that always takes your breath away. He moans deliriously, the taste of your arousal only serving to whet his appetite further. Two thick fingers curl into you, pressing up and drumming insistently as he devours you like a man possessed.

The praises dissolve on your tongue like sugar, your voice gone tight and ragged as he lights you up, the words harder and harder to focus on. And that’s even better. Your broken gasps leave him lurching, grinding down into the floor and moaning against you. It’s good, it’s so good and he can tell how good it is for you, his shoulders rocking into you faster as you begin to quiver and jerk under the assault.

“Querida.” The epithet leaves him in a whine. “Baby, please. I need you to come.”

“Close,” you rasp out, grabbing fistfuls of his hair and guiding him, holding him still while you rock your clit against the wet, yielding heat of his mouth. “Frankie, baby...f-fuck– ”

The motion of his body falters as you use him, the sound of his belt buckle knocking against the floorboards now a hard, syncopated beat. The pressure of his fingers inside you reaches a fever pitch and you shatter, shouting his name and pounding a fist on the floor as you come, shaking and rocking with the spasm.

And that, blessedly, means you get to watch him come right after, his body rigid, feet digging in for purchase as his hips knock stiltedly against the floor. His shout is almost as loud as yours, and he muffles his cries against your still-twitching cunt. You fall back on your elbow, head swimming, and you can feel the hard line of Frankie’s shoulders finally relax under you.

You unclench the fist in his hair, stroke down to cup the back of his neck. “Come up, baby. C’mere.”

Panting, Frankie nods dumbly, and pushes himself forward on his elbows. He kisses you, gentle once more, his heart still beating hard enough to make his breathing falter.

“Hey. I love you,” you breathe into his mouth.

He knocks his forehead into yours, closing his eyes. “Love you, too, baby.”

And then he curls into you, tucking his head into the side of your neck and pressing himself down. His belt buckle digs into your stomach, and you can feel a broad stripe of wet warmth soaking through the front of his jeans under the slowly softening bulge of his cock.

With a contented hum you wrap your arms around him, holding him tight. He smells of hot sun and dried sweat and the lingering sharpness of engine oil. You cradle the back of his head with one hand, rub slowly up and down his back with the other.

“Bad day?” you ask, kissing the corner of his jaw next to his ear.

He nods, scruff scraping along your shoulder. “Yeah. Bad day,” he agrees. You feel the warm press of his lips against the side of your neck, slow and sweet, before he draws in a long, shuddering breath. He holds it for a beat and then releases it slowly; a bone-deep sigh of utter relief. “Better now.”

#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x you #pedro pascal #triple frontier #pedro pascal character fic #citrus variations #hooray I put words in order and made sentences #littleferal

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jawabear · 3 years

Note

I have no idea if requests are open, so feel free to ignore!

Javier x reader, enemies to lovers with an injured and quietly scared reader?

Not impossible (Javier Peña x Reader)

Not my GIF

A/N: Hey! I’m sorry this took so long anon! I’ve had a lot of stuff to do outside of writing with sucks but I’m slowly working my way through my other requests so hopefully it won’t be too long before they’re up as well! Thank you for being patient with me. Also, I’m not very good at writing the whole enemies to lovers trope so this is about as good at that gets... but I hope it’s good enough for you. Enjoy. Sorry for any mistakes. Stay safe.

Genre: Angst, fluff

Warnings: Fem!reader, mentions of injury, mentions of blood, Javi is a struggling man, hospitals, Steve being a smart ass, my terrible writing

Summary: In his job, Javier gets proven wrong about a lot of things he though impossible, and he’s about to get proven wrong again

“You’re a real fucking piece of work, you know that?”

“Oh, and you’re not?” She retorted as she pushed him out the way. “Why do you have to be such a dick all the time, Peña?” She muttered under her breath as she began pressing the buttons on the copier.

“I could as you the same thing” he said, folding his arms over his chest as he watch her take her sweet time, intending to piss him off. And it was working. “Could you be any slower? Other people have work to do as well you know?”

“Oh sweetheart, I’m sure the girls will be happy to wait for you a little while longer” she taunted giving him a sweet smile. This only angered him further, more many reasons. But the main one being he hated that that was how she thought of him. But he had only himself to blame for his reputation.

The copier beeped a few times and she pulled out the few sheets of paper there was. “There, happy now?” She said before walking past him, purposely bumping her shoulder against his.

“Very” he muttered as he went about doing his own work, but his eyes wandered over to her, watching as she walked away. Watching the way her hips swayed slightly with every step. How her hair bounce to. And how she always walked with such purpose.

He knew he was in deep for her, but it was clear she didn’t feel the same.

He didn’t exactly know why they had the relationship they did, but ever since she started working for the DEA, they had just clashed. They had never seen eyes to eye and disagreed on just about everything. The only thing the did agree on being that they didn’t get on. And every agent new it. They didn’t exactly try to hide their distaste for each other. They made it very obvious.

This lead to obvious speculation about the true nature of their relationship. It came down to the classic “they’re only mean because they like you” sort of idea. Every other agent was convinced that they were actually together. And with relationships between agents being pretty much forbidden, they all seemed to come to the same conclusion that they were in face horrible to each other as an excuse to spend more time with each other and not let on that they were in face dating.

But this wasn’t the case. Unfortunately. They’re weren’t dating. Much to Javier’s dismay.

“You still with us?” Came a voice from beside him pulling him from his thoughts.

Javi looked and saw Steve standing beside him “yeah..” Javi said, clearing his throat and collecting his copies.

“What took you so far away?” Steve teased as he followed after his partner back to their desks. Javi just huffed in response, he never gave Steve a straight answer to questions lien that. He knew that what ever he answered he would just pester him about the same thing over and over again “it was (Y/N) again, wasn’t it”

For fuck sake.

“No Steve” Javi lied “it was about going home to get away from this shit”

“Well, to add more shit to the pile, Messina wants to see you”

“When?”

“Now”

“What the fuck for?” Javi sighed rubbing his forehead.

“Didn’t say. But it doesn’t look like you’re going to be alone for whatever it is” Steve nodded his head over to Messina’s office. Javier turned around and saw (Y/N) walking in. Javi only sighed again and pushed himself away from his desk and took his time walking up to Messina’s office.

“Me and...(Y/N)? Ma’am, all due respect-“

“Messina” she corrected for what seemed like the hundredth time “or boss. And are you questioning my decision?”

“W-Yeah actually I am. I don’t think sending me and (Y/N) out into live fire is a good idea”

“You two are DEA agents. Not children. You are both going on this mission whether you like it or not, and I expect the two of you to behave appropriately and professionally” Messina looked between the two of the, (Y/N) being all too quiet beside Javi. “Is that understood?”

“Yes, boss” (Y/N) nodded, those were the first words she had spoke in a while. She shot her eye over to Javi who had no choice but to agree.

“Yeah, fine...” he mumbled.

“Good, I expect you on site with in the hour. And be careful both of you. Look out for each other” Messina told them as she handed (Y/N) a file with the location and target.

(Y/N) nodded her head, taking the file and leaving, Javi following close behind trying to get a look at the file. She held the file up to him and he took it from her. “You only had to ask” she muttered. They both found themselves standing in her office, she walked around to her desk and pulled her gun out of her drawer while Javi stood in the doorway looking through the file.

“You can’t kill” he told her quietly, his eyes not leaving the page with the target on. This was a murder mission. And he knew she couldn’t kill anyone, even if it was for the sake of the job.

“But you can...” she said.

“You make it sound as if I enjoy it” he scoffed “as if it’s easy...”

“I know it’s not easy Javier. If it was, everyone would do it. But it takes a whole lot of bravery and courage to pull the trigger and end someone’s life, regardless of who they are. You are braver and more courageous than I could ever be”

He let out a light laugh and lifted his head to look at her “(Y/N), that almost sounded like a compliment”

A hint of a smile ghosted over her perfect lips as she averted her gaze from his back down to her gun “yeah well...don’t let it get to your head. I need it clear if we’re both going to make it out alive”

“Eso es frío” (that’s cold) he chuckled with the shake of his head.

“You know I can speak Spanish right?” She told him.

“Since when?” He asked a little shocked, but now questioning himself as to whether he’s ever let slip his feelings for her in his native tongue or not. She hadn’t ever said anything.

“Since always. So, whilst you can probably talk about Steve behind his back, you’re going to have to try harder do to it with me” she said before walking past him.

“Eres algo más” (you are something else) Javier muttered.

“Lo sé, pero tú también” (I know, But so are you) she called back to him.

Well, if he wasn’t already head over heels for her, her definitely was now.

She examined the room, her gun held steadily in front of her as she looked, but it was empty. There was no one there. She lowered her gun and reached for her radio, holding down the button “there’s no one here Javi” she said.

“There has to be” Javi’s voice came through, it wasn’t the clearest audio but she knew what he was saying. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs in the-“ she didn’t get a chance to finish before she heard a creek in the floor boards beside her. She looked and saw their target emerging from a cut in the walls, gun raised and pointing straight towards her.

(Y/N) reached for her gun but it was all too late for that. She somehow managed to manoeuvre herself so that the bullet didn’t go through her head, but she wasn’t quick enough to dodge it completely.

Her leg seemed to just...stop. She fell to the floor crying out in pain as like a wounded animal. The bullet was hot as it imbedded itself into her thigh. The gun had dropped from her hands and fallen to the floor. Her hands were of better use holding her thigh she thought.

The guy was shot dead and Javi quickly appeared in the room, but she could barely make him out through her tears. In all her time as a field agent, she never thought she’d ever get shot. She was too focused, but it seemed this time, her feelings for Javier got in the way.

“Fucking hell (Y/N)!” Javier yelled as he raced to her side, his gun too being forgotten on the floor next to hers.

“Javi...I-It hurts” she sobbed.

“I know baby” he whispered. She didn’t really take much notice of the name, nor did he. There were more pressing matters at hand that his slip of the tongue. He reached around her to the back pocket of her vest, knowing she would have a bandage of some kind in there. He smiled a little to himself as he pulled it out. “Hold still for me (Y/N)” he said gently as he moved her hands from her leg.

“D-Don’t touch it” she sniffed.

“I’m not gonna touch it. But I need to wrap it so you don’t bleed out” Javi carefully began wrapping the bandage around her wound tightly. She let out quiet whimpers of pain for which he apologised.

“Can you stand?” He asked when he had finished wrapping her wound.

“I-I think so..” he took her hands and helped her get to her feet but her leg gave out again sending her into his chest. His arms instantly wrapped around her to make sure she didn’t fall back to the floor.

“I’m sorry..” she whispered as she tried to stand again.

“It’s fine” he whispered before lifting her into his arms bridal style. She didn’t really have the strength to protest, and she didn’t want to either. It felt nice to be held in his strong arms.

Javi took it upon himself to bring her to his car and drive her as quickly as he could to the hospital. She struggled to keep her eyes open but he kept talking to her and holding her hand as often as possible to keep her mind active to insure she didn’t pass out on him. “Stay awake for me (Y/N). You’re going to be okay”

Javier sat outside her hospital room, his head in his hands and his leg bouncing nervously. He hadn’t moved from that chair since he first sat down in it about three hours ago. He was too scared to leave. Scared the nurse would come out and he wouldn’t be there. Or (as unlikely as this was) (Y/N) would ask for him and he wouldn’t be able to see her.

He was far too stressed out to do anything. And he was too scared to move.

“Javi!” Steve called to him as he jogged down the hallway towards him. Javi looked up at his partner but didn’t have the energy to actually respond with words. “How is she?” Steve asked when he stopped in front of his friend.

“Alive...at least” Javier muttered “they’re uh..running some tests. Want to make sure she doesn’t have an infection or anything. My attempt at patching her up was shit and wasn’t enough to stop the bleeding...”

“Fuck man” Steve said as he sat beside Javi “I’m sorry this shit happened. Did you get the bastard who did it?”

Javi just nodded and lowered his head rubbing his hands together. “Hey, just think, it could’ve been a whole lot worse” Steve tried to offer him some comfort but he didn’t really know what to say.

“It could’ve been a whole lot better” Javi retorted.

Steve didn’t get a chance to say anything else before the door to (Y/N)’s hospital room was opened and a nurse emerged. Javi and Steve immediately stood catching her attention.

She gave a gentle smile to them “Ella está bien para tener visitas. Pero ella puede desvanecerse dentro y fuera de la consciouncia” (she’s okay to have visitors. But she may fade in and out of consciousness) she told them quietly. Steve didn’t get a lot of what she was saying, something about ‘she’s okay’ and ‘conscious’.

“Gracias” Javi nodded to her. She smiled again before leaving them.

“I didn’t get a lot of that” Steve admitted.

“She’s okay. But she’ll probably fall in and out of sleep if we go in there” Javi translated for him. “Do you want to go in first?” He asked pointing his thumb at the door.

“No, you go in first. She’ll be happier to see you than she will me” Steve said patting Javi on the shoulder.

“She hates me...” Javi mumbled.

“Yeah, sure she does” Steve nodded a long, a knowing look on his face “I’ll go tell the boss. Take your time in there” Javi couldn’t reply before Steve was walking away leaving him alone.

He looked towards the door and hesitantly reached out for the handle before pushing it down and opening the door.

She was awake when he walked in. Staring out of the window on the opposite side of the room. Her fingers scraping anxiously against the blanket that was draped over her. He drew in a sharp breath before walking into the room, closing the door behind him. He didn’t say anything to her at first he knew she was aware of his presence.

Javi sat in the chair beside her bed. She was facing away from him and he didn’t know what to say to her. Anything he did say probably wouldn’t mean much to her. Anything he wanted to say wouldn’t mean anything either.

So for a while they sat in silence. The only other sounds were the quiet shuffling and muffled noises from outside the room and the annoying but somewhat comforting beeping of the heart monitor she was attached to.

Javier’s eyes trailed up and down her body. Her leg was slight elevated and wrapped up in a few layers of bandage. A wire attached to her arm. He didn’t like it. He didn’t like any of what he was seeing. But he was glad she was alive. But he knew she wasn’t okay.

“What’s wrong with me Javier?” She asked quietly. Her voice and question startling him slightly.

“You were shot (Y/N). They’re just running some tests to see if you have an infection-“ He answered but she cut him off before he could completely finish.

“That’s not what I mean” she said turning her head, their eyes meeting and he hated the sadness and pain he saw within them. “What’s wrong with me?” She asked again.

Javi didn’t answer for a moment. He was trying to pull his thoughts together, he wanted to give her the honest answer but he didn’t think now was the time for him to confess his love for her.

“You’re human (Y/N)” he told her quietly. Javi hesitantly reached out and took her small cold hand in his larger, warmer ones “No one can expect you to force yourself to do things as drastic as taking a life”

“That’s my job Javi” she laughed weakly “What kind of DEA agent am I if I can’t even do my job?”

“You’re one of the best agents we have. These things happen (Y/N), don’t beat yourself up over it” he told her.

“They don’t happen to you...” she said. “These things don’t happen to you Javi”

“No” he agreed “far worse things happen to me. I have a far worse pain to deal with”

“What’s that?”

“I have to watch the ones I care about get hurt or killed. And all I can do is stand idly by and watch...wishing it was me instead...”

Her bottom lip began to tremble as she watch a look of sadness wash over his face. She tried to squeeze his hand in reassurance but she was too tired and too weak. But he must’ve felt something because he looked to their joined hands a smiled a little. “Javi...” she sighed quietly. “I don’t want it to be you...” she told him.

He removed one hand from hers and brought it up to rest on her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb over her soft skin. She leaned into his touch and managed to squeeze his hand gently. Maybe it was just the drowsiness getting to her which was making her more affectionate towards him. But he wanted to believe it was because she liked him back, but he knew it was impossible.

The hand on her cheek brought her unbelievable warmth and comfort and it was making her sleepy. She struggled to keep her eyes open, her head falling deeper and deeper into the pillow.

“Maybe you should get some sleep” he said quietly.

“Will you stay?” Her voice was small and quiet but she couldn’t open her eyes when she asked her questions, slowly she found herself falling asleep, still holding his hands.

“If you want me to” he smiled.

She hummed “want you..to...” her voice seemed to trail off as her head rolled to the side a little more than it already was.

Javier waited a moment before he voice her name, testing to see if she was in face asleep. When she didn’t respond he came to the conclusion she was in fact asleep. He let her be, knowing she needed rest after the traumatic events of the day. But he wasn’t going to leave her.

Whilst in there, the nurses flittered in and out making sure she and he were okay. And even as the sun began to set, she show no intention of waking up. But the constant beep of the heart monitor was comfort enough for him to know she was still alive.

He rested his elbow on the bed and raised her weak hand to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles before resting his forehead against it. “You know, I have half a mind to tell Crosby and Messina to ban your from field duty after this. To save me from having to go through this again” his voice was quiet as he spoke, he was scared of waking her but also he didn’t want her to hear what he had to say. “Fuck (Y/N). You got lucky. That could’ve been a whole lot worse. You could’ve-“

He stopped himself quickly, feeling a lump beginning to form in his throat and his eyes burning with tears “but you’re okay. That’s what I have to remember. And...and when you wake up...I’ll tell you. Tell you how I feel. Tell you I love you. And that I’m sorry I’m such an asshole to you. It’s a shitty excuse but...I’ve never felt like this about someone before and...it’s fucking scary. I guess I...I just don’t know how to...deal with it...”

She drew in a deep breath and shifted slightly making him look over to her face to see if she had woken up, but it seemed she was still completely out of it. Javi pressed another kiss to her hand, longer this time before bringing it back down to the bed. “I’ll let you rest (Y/N)” he whispered before leaning back in his chair. His eyes and hand never leaving her before he found himself drifting off to sleep as well.

When he woke up again, it was due to the light filtering through the window on the far side of the room, and also the sound of the nurse flittering about the room and checking on (Y/N) who was still asleep. Javier groaned as he attempted to stretch his arms above his head but he was hindered slightly when he noticed that their hands were still joined at her side.

“Buenos dias, Agente Peña” the nurse smiled gently over to him. Javi was a little concerned at the fact he had fallen asleep, he didn’t know what time it was. Was he late for work? And why did he suddenly care if he was?

“¿que hora es?” (What time is it?) he asked.

The nurse looked at the watch on her wrist “9:32” she told him.

He was late. Very late.

“Fuck” he swore under his breath.

“You might like to know that a man who you were with before came by to tell you not to come in to work today” she said, her English wasn’t the best but he understood what she was saying.

(Y/N) groaned from the bed catching both of their attention. Javier leaned forwards slightly and tightened his grip on her hand. “(Y/N)?” He said quietly.

“Javi...” she managed a soft smile as she slowly opened her eyes to look at him.

“How are you feeling?” He asked her.

“Happy..” she said.

“You’re the only person in the world then that has felt happy after being shot” he laughed quietly.

“No...happy because you’re here” she told him.

Her words caught him a little off guard and he looked up to the nurse but she had at some point slipped out of the room. “I think you’re still a little hazy from whatever it was they put in you”

“No Javi. I know what I’m saying. I owe you my life. You saved me”

“I’d hardly call it that...” he muttered as he looked away. She squeezed his hand tightly, proof that she was coming back to herself. “I was doing what you would do”

“I’m not just talking about yesterday” she said “I’m talking about every day before that...I know that...we have a strange relationship...but...just having you in my life...it gives me a reason to go on”

“What are you talking about (Y/N)?”

“I’m...I like you Javi. A lot. And I didn’t ever saying anything because...well you never exactly made it easy” she laughed “but I...you probably don’t do relationships but...” she didn’t finish her words. She turned her head to look away from him and pulled her hand from his. She felt like an idiot in confessing to him. She knew it was impossible that he would like her back. He hated her.

But he didn’t.

“(Y/N)” he whispered as he reached over to press his hand against her cheek to turn her head to face him again.

“I’m sorry” she apologised.

“For what?”

“I feel like I’ve now...made things even worse between us...”

“Hey, I may be an asshole but I am capable of feelings. And I like you too”

“Y-You do?” She spoke in barely a whisper, she was a little too shocked by his words. He nodded to her. Her face broke out into a bright smile and reached over to take his face in her hands pulling him closer and pressing her lips to his. She wasn’t quite in control of her actions but that didn’t stop her from continuing. And he didn’t hesitate in kissing her back.

“And it’s about time too” came a voice from the doorway making them both jump away from each other. They looked over to the door to see Steve standing there looking all to proud of himself. “About time you two got together. It’s a real pain in my ass trying to be the middle ground between you. And it will also settle the chatter around the office”

“Do you know how to knock?” Javi asked.

“Yeah” Steve nodded.

“Then go out and try it” Javier pointed to the door and Steve laughed and left the room, closing the door behind him, but there was no knock that followed.

“It seems like we’ve apparently made a lot of people happy” he chuckled. She nodded and gave him a gentle smile.

“Are you happy?” She asked him quietly.

“Beyond happy”

18/01/21

Taglist: @linkpk88 @phoenixhalliwell @lunaserenade @harrys-stan (let me know if you want to be added or removed from the list)

#javier peña #javier peña x reader #javier peña fanfic #narcos #angst #fluff #pedro pascal #fanfic

191 notes · View notes

vanserraseris · 3 years

Note

END OF PART XIV - I feel like I should say that things don’t really get any happier?? A few years have passed since the last part and Eris is a little ooc. Just a warning that there are mentions of character death and blood. Thank you to everyone who reads.

omfg i am SO sorry it took me forever to get this part up. anyway im crying

Prince of Ashes. Part XIV.

masterlist.

Eris sat on his stool once more, the old wooden legs creaking under his weight. He was well aware that the small, ugly tavern was well below an acceptable place for him to be, but he’d needed a break. Pity, Eris thought, that he hadn’t been able to find one. He shook his head, little pieces of broken glass falling from his hair and onto the sticky bar top. He felt blood dripping down the side of his face and wiped it away with the back of his hand.

The female behind the bar had pressed herself up against one of the shelves, had put as much distance between the two of them as was possible. Eris simply pushed the glass in front of him towards her, no emotion in his voice as he said, “I’ll have another, if you don’t mind.” Her brown eyes widened before she whirled around, quickly grabbing the already open bottle of cognac behind her. With shaking hands, she poured the drink into his glass.

Eris could hear her rapidly beating heart and scowled, bringing the glass to his lips and draining its contents. The female rushed to refill his glass just as the doors to the tavern opened. Eris didn’t turn to see who it was, he didn’t have to. He recognized his friend’s scent, scrunching his nose as he wiped at more blood that dripped down his face. Eris’s ears twitched at the sound of Lagos walking towards him, his boot-clad feet crunching the broken pieces of glass on the floor.

Eris tried not to breathe in too deeply as Lagos pulled a stool towards the bar, the wooden legs dragging through a pool of blood, it’s iron scent burning through Eris’s nose.

“Have you been doing that all day?” Lagos sounded very disappointed as he sat down.

Eris wasn’t entirely sure whether Lagos was talking about the drinking, or about the two dozen faeries he’d killed. It didn’t really matter, his answer remained the same, “Just started.”

“It’s unlike you to drink without company.”

Eris raised a brow, turning his head in his friend’s direction, but looking past him. Eris stared at the dead faerie slumped against the dark wood of the bar as he spoke, “Are you here to join me?”

Lagos sighed, moving so that Eris could look at him instead. “I’m here, Eris, because Rufus told us where you’d be. He’s worried, we’re worried, and you won’t tell any of us a thing.”

Eris scowled, turning away from him to face the female behind the bar.

She was staring at him differently now, the fact that she recognized who he was evident in her lovely features. “How much for the whole bottle?”

“Ten coppers,” she said, voice clear despite her obvious nerves.

Eris shoved his hand into the back pocket of his brown pants, placing ten gold marks on the table instead. “I’m buying the bottle and I’m buying your silence.” Eris made sure there were flames in his eyes as he looked at her.

Eris hadn’t known that the rebels he was looking for would be sitting in the tavern he’d entered. They’d paused at his arrival, their loud talking turning into hushed murmuring as he’d sat at the bar. Eris had seen the leader, had recognized her from the large scar over her brow, and wished he hadn’t. They’d all put up a good fight, would have made excellent warriors had they not chosen to fight against Beron.

Eris had decided to spare the young female behind the bar, the only survivor, because she’d reminded Eris of his mother. She placed the bottle in front of him, nearly dropping it as she said, “Yes, my prince.”

“I think it would be best if you left,” Lagos advised, tilting his head towards the door.

Eris only briefly watched the female as she grabbed the gold, as she scrambled out of the tavern, stepping over a dead male as she practically ran away from the bar.

Eris sniffed, swirling the cognac in the bottle as he slowly pushed his full glass towards Lagos. Instead of speaking, Eris chose to lift the heavy bottle to his lips.

“You aren’t going to find happiness at the bottom of that bottle,” Lagos muttered, running a hand through his long, dark hair. The gold tattoos on each of his fingers seemed brighter than usual in the gloom of the tavern.

Eris rolled his eyes, “I’m not trying to find happiness.” He raised the bottle in his friend’s direction before he took a long drink, “I’m trying to drown my sorrows.”

Lagos furrowed his brows, “I think you’ve had enough.”

“I’ve definitely not had enough.” Eris shook his head, the scent of blood making him dizzy. Perhaps if he drank a little more, he wouldn’t be able to smell it. “I finally understand why Cato was always in such a foul mood, though.”

“Eris—”

“The High Lord has me taking over some of his duties,” Eris waved a hand, eyes scanning the small space around him, looking over all the dead faeries. Eris hadn’t known the extent of what his father had been making Cato do all these years, had never bothered to ask his younger brother what his duties had been outside of questioning prisoners at The Forest House. Being in Cato’s shoes as Beron worked to find his replacement had Eris feeling absolutely dreadful.

Lagos took a deep breath, “This is what Cato did?” Of course Lagos would be horrified. Eris had been sent to the small town outside Calchas to find the steadily growing rebel group, and had been ordered to kill them if he did. Rebel groups in Autumn seemed to be getting more and more popular; Eris wasn’t surprised.

Eris faced his friend, looked into his dark brown eyes. “Horrible enough to drive anyone mad, isn’t it?”

“It would explain why you yelled at Rufus this morning.”

“Fuck off, Lagos,” Eris snapped, “Honestly, if you’re here because Rufus is worried, you’ve come here in vain.”

“I’m here,” Lagos snarled, “Because if Rufus can’t get through to you, I’m not sure anyone else can.” Eris couldn’t count the times his friends had tried to talk to him after Lucien had left Autumn, after Cato and Owain had been killed. Eris hadn’t wanted to talk to them, had pushed them away when they tried.

Eris huffed a humourless laugh, “You don’t have to worry about me, I’m fine.”

“Evidently,” Lagos grabbed the bottle from Eris’s hand just as he’d been about to bring it to his lips, “Of course you’re fine, Mother forbid anyone worry about you.” He slammed the bottle onto the bar.

“Don’t start with this shit again,” Eris was tired, he’d had a long day, he didn’t want to listen to anything Lagos had to tell him — he’d heard it all before.

“This is an intervention,” Lagos waved his hand, “I’m intervening. I’m not going to sit here and watch you drink, following your father’s orders as you try to win a throne you’ve never wanted.”

Eris wiped at the blood on his face again. “Who says I don’t want it?”

“You!” Lagos raised his voice a bit, “You’ve been saying it since I’ve known you!”

“Well, I changed my mind,” Eris ran a hand through his hair, he’d given this issue much thought lately.

“I’m going to steal my father’s crown and I’m going to rule Autumn.” Beron wasn’t good for this court, he’d always been too selfish, too power-hungry, too cruel. Maddox wouldn’t be a good High Lord, he was better off leading the Royal Guard. Priam was just as likely to abandon Autumn as he was to rule it well. And Rufus didn’t want the throne, even if Eris thought he would be the best one on it.

Lagos sounded frustrated as he said, “And how do you plan on doing that?”

Eris flashed his friend a smile, “Not sure yet, but I’m a patient male, Lagos. I’ll wait another 300 years for that crown if I have to.” Eris had never been humble, it was easy for him to see that he was the only reasonable option, the only one of his brothers who could be a decent High Lord after he got rid of Beron.

Lagos sighed, reaching out with a hand, “Eris—”

Eris growled when Lagos placed that hand on his arm, “Don’t touch me.”

“I’m taking you home,” Lagos snapped, no longer touching him though, “Obviously, we need to talk. Unless you’d like to fight this out, just like we used to.”

“Tempting,” Eris lifted his chin, “But I just spent a good hour fighting out my anger.” That, and Eris had never beaten Lagos in a fight, and they’d fought countless times in the years they’d known each other.

“Fine, let’s just,” he held his hand out to Eris, an offering, “Let’s go home.”

There was a time where Eris would have taken his friend’s hand without question. Lagos, who had stayed by his side for nearly three centuries and was in danger because of it. Eris looked at Lagos and saw a brother, just another brother he could disappoint, another brother he could fail. Eris pushed his stool away from the bar, “You’ll have to drag me there,” he declared as he stood up.

Lagos rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt, “Don’t fucking test me, Eris, I’ll do it.”

Eris waved a hand dismissively, “Go ahead.”

Eris hadn’t truly believed Lagos would do it, but when he fell to the ground, the back of his head smacking against the hardwood floor of the tavern, he guessed he’d been wrong about how much shit Lagos was willing to take from him before he snapped.

“What the fuck?” Eris snarled, kicking out one of his long legs.

“You fucking asked for it,” Lagos said through clenched teeth, his arms around Eris’s torso as a bright light flared around them.

Eris vaguely realized that Lagos had winnowed them somewhere, most likely to the yard outside his cottage.

Eris and Lagos tumbled and rolled in the long grass, fists flying. They were both punching and hitting and swearing, Eris was keeping a tight leash on his flames the whole time, still self aware enough to prevent burning one of his best friends. Eris heard Micah, would have recognized his voice anywhere, as he called out to them.

“Following orders blindly,” Lagos growled as he tried to pin Eris underneath him, “Being horrible to Rufus, ignoring your mother.” They tumbled a little more in the grass, “You’re better than this.”

Eris pushed Lagos roughly with one of his hands, “Am I?” Eris didn’t really think he was, not after all the things he’d done. Eris wasn’t a good male, that much he was certain of.

Before Lagos could respond, he was wrenched off Eris by a livid Widge. “I can’t believe you would fucking do that.”

Eris sat up, raking a hand through his now messy hair. He couldn’t remember the last time Widge had been angry, and almost felt bad for having played a part in it. Micah got down on his knees beside him, placed a hand on his shoulder, it took all of Eris’s strength not to shrug him off.

“You can’t seriously be angry at me,” Lagos growled, staring up at Widge, incredulous. “Our friend just killed over twenty people — decent, hopeful, hard-working people — because they wanted to overthrow the worst High Lord in Prythian, and you’re angry at me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Widge started, “But I think we’re all old enough to use our words instead of our fists.”

Micah shook his head, looking at Lagos with furrowed brows, “This isn’t what I had in mind when I said we needed to work things out.” Eris stiffened at the thought that his friends had been discussing him when he wasn’t there, but Micah continued speaking, anger clear in his tone. “I’m certain this was uncalled for, Lagos.”

Lagos threw his hands in the air, “You’re on his side?” Lagos seemed more surprised than hurt, “Why are you on his side, Micah?”

Micah sighed, his other hand coming up to rest on Eris’s arm. “Because he’s upset.”

“I’m not upset, why would I be upset?” They all seemed content to ignore Eris as they continued talking.

Lagos snorted, “Right, that’s the reason.”

Micah flushed, opening his mouth to respond, but Widge spoke first. “I think everyone needs to just take a breath,” he helped Lagos to his feet.

“You can take a breath, I’m not done speaking,” Lagos muttered.

Widge looked slightly panicked as he brushed some dirt off of the other male. “Enough, Lagos, just… just stop for a minute.”

Lagos ignored him, turned to face Eris, brown eyes glowing gold, “I always saw through your unbothered, arrogant, asshole act. Always. Tonight, I could not.” Lagos shook his head, “Keep the mask on long enough, Eris, and you forget what’s underneath.”

Eris held his oldest friend’s gaze, “There’s no mask.” Eris wasn’t some secret hero, he wasn’t some misunderstood male with good intentions, “I’m just my father’s son.”

Micah tightened his hold on Eris’s shoulder, “Lagos,” he said in the tone he usually reserved for ordering soldiers around, “Leave him alone.”

Lagos didn’t look like he wanted to leave Eris alone, he looked like he wanted to hit him.

Eris couldn’t blame him, but he felt oddly at peace knowing that he’d probably pushed Lagos too far. “I’m leaving,” Lagos muttered, “I’ll return when you snap out of whatever mood you’re currently in,” that statement directed at Eris. Eris wasn’t planning on snapping out of his mood anytime soon, but he watched as Lagos winnowed away without another word, jaw clenched so hard it hurt.

Just as Lagos left, Micah placed gentle fingers on Eris’s chin, moving some of Eris’s hair to look at him closely. “You’re bleeding.” He didn’t need to ask the question he so clearly wanted to, Eris knew what he wanted.

“One of the faeries I killed tonight threw a bottle at me,” Eris mumbled as Micah tilted his head to the side, trying to get a better look, “She had a very good arm.”

“It’s very unlike you to follow such orders,” Micah’s emerald eyes looked troubled.

Micah wasn’t wrong, Eris had gotten very good at talking his way out of orders he didn’t like. Eris felt blood trickle down the side of his face, and Micah leaned closer to him, pressed the clean sleeve of his shirt against Eris’s brow.

“My father doesn’t trust me.”

“Do you want him to?” Micah stopped pressing his sleeve against Eris’s face, his hand replacing the fabric as he held onto Eris, his thumb resting gently on Eris’s cheekbone.

“I need him to.” Eris hadn’t realized how close he’d gotten to Micah.

“What is the cost?” Eris shuddered when Micah’s thumb slowly stroked his cheekbone, “What will it cost you?”

Eris knew the cost. He hadn’t been determined enough, hadn’t been focused enough on becoming High Lord all these years. He’d liked spending time with his friends, liked spending time with Rufus and Lucien. He’d liked trying to charm pretty females and handsome males, liked getting wasted on faerie wine and pixie.

He needed his father to trust him — that was the first step in taking his crown — and that meant Eris needed to get his hands dirty, needed to follow those orders with a smile on his face. Eris knew what it would cost — his friends, his brothers, his mother — and he was prepared to pay the price. Eris looked into Micah’s clear green eyes as he answered, “Everything that matters.” Micah bit the inside of his bottom lip, nodding once.

Eris froze when Micah inched closer to him, their noses almost touching, eyes half-lidded. “Eris, please—”

Eris didn’t really want to hear what Micah had to say, so he simply decided to close the distance between them. Eris tilted his head, mouth slanting across Micah’s, eyes fluttering shut when he didn’t pull away.

Micah’s lips were soft against Eris’s, the hand cupping Eris’s face was firm as he pulled Eris closer in a breathless gasp. Eris’s tongue brushed against Micah’s, and Eris felt some of the control on his magic slip.

Eris lifted his hand, tangling his fingers in Micah’s light brown hair, everything about the other male familiar. He decided that this would be the last time, his other hand fisted in the blades of grass by Micah’s hand.

With one final tender kiss on Micah’s lips, Eris pulled back, resting his forehead against Micah’s, eyes closed. “I need to sit on that throne,” Eris bit the inside of his cheek, tasting blood. He loosened his hold on Micah’s hair, “Maybe then I can fix this court.”

Micah pulled back, moved his hand so that it rested against Eris’s neck. “You do what you have to, Eris, but I don’t — I know I am selfish for it, but… I don’t think I can sit back and watch you.”

Eris’s eyes snapped open at the sound of Micah’s wavering voice. Micah wasn’t selfish, he was anything but selfish. Eris hadn’t been expecting Micah to be so upset, his cheeks were flushed, tears streaming down his face. Eris had to remind himself that this was for the best, that if he stayed away it would keep him safe.

“Don’t waste your tears on me, Micah,” Eris murmured. He would have kissed them away if he didn’t think it would make things infinitely more difficult.

Micah took a deep breath, wiping at his eyes with the back of his hand, “I need to go.” Eris felt the sudden urge to beg him not to. Instead, he just sat frozen as Micah stood to leave.

Eris stared at Micah’s feet as he walked away. He vaguely heard Widge trying to stop him, had nearly forgotten that Widge was still there. He ripped at a patch of grass, loosing a long breath.

Eris was still staring after Micah when Widge dropped down to sit beside him. “They’ll be back.”

“I don’t want them to come back,” Eris snarled, “I want to get rid of you, too.”

“I don’t think it matters what you want,” Widge ran a hand through his copper hair, “I mean, obviously it does,” he cringed. “What you want matters, it should always matter, it’s just that I think you’re lying.”

Eris wondered if it was possible to both want them to come back and want them to stay as far away from him as possible. “You’re not leaving?” Eris asked, turning to face Widge.

Widge flashed Eris a small smile, knocking his shoulder into Eris’s. “Not a chance.”

“I’m going to lean on you, then,” Eris muttered.

Widge shifted closer to him, “You can lean on me whenever you like.”

Eris crossed his arms, kicked his legs out in front of him, and slumped against Widge’s much smaller frame. “Everything I touch, I turn to ash.”

Eris felt Widge shake his head, “That’s not true.”

“It is, though,” Eris sighed, “Over two centuries of friendship just went up in flames.” Which Eris had to keep reminding himself was what he had wanted.

“They’re just worried,” Widge said, sounding very sure, “They’re also probably too proud to admit that they’re also a little afraid.”

“Afraid of what?” Eris wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know the answer. The last thing he wanted was for Widge to tell him that they were all afraid of him.

“Afraid of losing you.”

Eris stared at his boots, the brown leather stained with blood. “Oh,” he said, feeling rather stupid for not having anything better to say.

“And I think you should know, Eris,” Widge continued, “That you’re nothing like your father.”

Eris didn't think that was true, but he was glad someone thought so all the same.

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violettelueur · 3 years

Text

— JUJUTSU KAISEN EPISODE SIXTEEN || KYOTO SISTER SCHOOL EXCHANGE EVENT - GROUP BATTLE 2

↳ featuring : basically everyone at this point from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : mention of explosions + EXTREME grammar issues

↳ form : story

↳ published : 29 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ word count : 2.2k

↳ previous episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 1

↳ next episode : kyoto sister school exchange event - group battle 3

↳ barista’s notes : it’s been a while huh? ʕ ㅇ ᴥ ㅇʔ BUT! my exams and easter hoilday is nearly here, so i will be able to update more than i have been this month, so thank you all so much for being so patient with me ʕ•ᴥ•ʔﾉ♡ my heart can’t take all the kindness ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ other than that, i hope you all enjoy today’s episode since fushiugro doesn’t pop up until like episode eighteen...so hope you love all the made up scenarios that i have constructed ʕ￫ᴥ￩　ʔ

BEFORE READING, I NEED YOU TO BE AWARE OF THIS:

1. the whole story belongs to Gege Akutami and the credits go to them and them only.

2. the spell curses used belong to Tite Kubo due to them being the ‘Kidos’ being used on the manga and anime ‘Bleach’ - but none is mentioned in this chapter.

2.5. for the ‘cursed spells’/kidos (bleach) i will link this video here and tell you the time stamp to check out what i am intending to show - remember i add a few twist here and there by adding the katana to link with Y/N’s cursed technique : hopefully this video is slightly better...

no cursed spells used this episode..

but the little sword swing is inspired by this : here

3. if you are confused on anything, please don’t hesitate to message me since i know this whole thing is so confusing.

“What’s with the smiley look on your face?” you asked as you lifted your eyebrow in curiosity since the man in front of you had a somewhat goofy grin plastered on him while adding a ridiculous amount of sugar cubes into his coffee cup causing you to shiver since you couldn’t imagine how sweet the caffeinated drink would be now if you tried it right now.

“Oh, nothing~ I’m just glad that I got to spend time with my daughter since we both have been so busy lately,” Gojo answered you brightly before grabbing the small metal spoon that was placed on the white saucer below his cup to stir the dark drink to quicken the process of the sugar dissolving.

Right now in the afternoon, you and Gojo were at a random luxury dessert place in the middle of Tokyo, where he had unexpectedly dragged you out of training that you had with the first and second years - much to their complete dismay - to have some ‘father and daughter’ bonding time together, leaving them to prepare today’s training by themselves since their plans were ruined with you now gone out of the scenario.

“Please don’t call me that,” you muttered as you processed to swirl your iced orange and mango juice with your straw before taking a quick sip of the cold beverage causing the tropical flavour to enlighten a light feeling of happiness within your stomach.

“So~ how is training for the exchange event going on?” Gojo asked as he took a sip of his cup causing you to look up at him before moving your lips away from the plastic straw. “It’s going well, Fushiguro and Kugisaki are improving bit by bit as well as the second years, it’s progress,” you replied back as your head began to nod slowly as you began to process everything in your head.

“Ah~ I knew I could count on you,” Gojo mentioned with a proud smile present on his face before looking over to the side to find the waiter coming to your table with the desserts that you both had ordered.

‘Well...isn’t it really your job as a teacher to train them?’

“Thank you so much,” you said to the waiter as they placed down your plates before giving you a nod as they processed to look after the other customers that were also in the cafe right now, leading Gojo to look at the treats in such delight before handing you one of the plates since he was the one that ordered everything - which was a complete surprise since you didn’t think he would remember you liking orange juice at all.

“Here you are! Tiramisu with fresh strawberries on top,” Gojo expressed with an excited tone causing you to look at him with a perplexed expression before slowly peering down at the small white plate that was placed in front of you to only find the mentioned dessert with a small fork right beside it.

“Did...you know I like tiramisu?” you asked bewilderedly since you had never mentioned anything about your favourite treats to Gojo since he was so keen on ordering as quickly as possible the second you both got here, to get the beautiful desserts as early as possible leaving you no room to add what you wanted.

“You were looking at it on the display when we got here, so I thought you wanted to give it a try,” Gojo informed you, leading you to look at him once again in surprise before steadily taking the fork in hand to dig into the treat you were gifted with.

“Thank you,” you mentioned with gratitude before you slowly began to tuck into the meal leaving Gojo to look at you with a smile before changing his gaze towards the sweet treats that were displayed at you both right now before gleefully taking the strawberry shortcake as his first choice.

“Y/N...when the exchange event comes...don’t use your curse technique at all,” Gojo said in a serious tone leading you to look up at your teacher in confusion due to the unexpected change in atmosphere, before sighing since you thought it was common knowledge by now and there was no need for him to remind you.

“You don’t need to tell me that, I can tell that the Kyoto Principal is coming to be watching, right?” you rhetorically asked as you slightly tilted your head to the side, “you don’t have to worry about anything, I ain’t that stupid, besides...the Kyoto students from what I’ve seen are real drags,”

ꕥ

‘I swear I feel like using a curse spell right now’

At this current moment in time, you were in a somewhat difficult situation as you were rapidly zooming past the forest trees that were surrounding you while continuously avoided the arrows that were coming towards your way as some flew right past you while others struck the tree trucks that were somewhat protecting you from them, leaving you with the job to find an escape route since you were still trying to find clues of the mole that Gojo mentioned to you before the Exchange Event started as well as the second-grade curse that was needed to be exorcised to end the first day of the two-day event.

Shifting your eyes to the side, you noticed Fushiguro running in the same direction as you as he needed to keep up with you to make sure that you were safe and there was a way to help you avoid attacking your opponent right now since that was a new rule implemented to keep the game fair. However, with the abandonment of the use of your curse technique, Fushiguro needed to make sure he could defend you and have your back right now.

Quickly, you turned your head back to face forwards to ensure that you didn’t bump into anything or tripped up anywhere since you still had no idea where you were heading right now. From what you could recall, the area that was mapped out to the event’s arena was quite vast and it was getting somewhat difficult for you to sense everyone’s cursed energy since they were all now scattered in different directions with different distances leading your sense on them to become disorganised around you causing some difficulty to sense the curse you needed to locate for.

During this train of thought, Fushiguro couldn’t help but notice a few odd but small objects flowing through the air in front of both of you and him, causing the erratic-haired sorcerer to slightly tense up since he wasn’t sure what they were but also knew he couldn’t act too careless right now since it could be a trap that was set by the Kyoto side. However, as you both continued to sprint forward, those same small objects gilded right past between both of you and Fushiguro causing him to able to identify what they were.

‘Flower petals?’ Fushiguro thought before noticing how a few more pink petals would flow between you and him causing the shikigami user to look at you in confusion (since it was summer meaning there was no way they were just in bloom) as a few more of them gracefully fluttered past you which lead Fushiguro to slowly remember something, yet it was blurry in his mind right now. However, before his mind could even process anything to clear up the blurry image, you swiftly raised your arm to unexpectedly grab a few of the pink petals causing him to snap out of his daze before you left him more perplexed about what you were planning.

“Gojo, what are you going to do?” Fushiguro questioned, as he slyly noticed how your grip on the petals began to tighten before a small smile graced itself upon your face.

“Right now, let’s just say I ain’t planning to follow the rules if he keeps attacking me!” you answered back in a loud tone causing the grade-two sorcerer to glance at you with widened eyes as he wanted to halt you from what you were organising to do. Although, it seemed like it was too late since your hand opened slowly to release the pink flower petals back into the air before you took hold of his sleeve to pull him further so you both can take a long distance away from the same petals right now.

Suddenly, another arrow appeared from the trees as it was making its way towards you both leading you to smirk slightly as you let out of your classmate’s sleeve to take a hold of your katana that was still within its wooden sheathe as you needed to prepare for what was about to commence.

As the arrow drew closer and closer to you and Fushiguro, it couldn’t help but slightly grazed its sharp metal tip on one of the rosy coloured petals causing a sudden large explosion to commence right above you and Fushiguro while the other petals began to follow due to the first explosion’s residue hitting them as well leading to a row of large explosions to employ to which caused Fushiguro to look at the scene in complete shock before noticing how you were beginning to casually unsheathe your katana from its metal hold.

“You see, if I follow the rules, there is no way of telling them to stay the hell away from me,” you muttered, as you spun around to face the opposite direction before fully swinging your sword sideways leading to a crescent wave of cursed energy to speedily manifest as it flew across the whole woods while somewhat clearing the fiery explosion that was already enough to keep Kamo in place for some time leading Fushiguro to inspect the destructive site in complete surprise since he had no idea that you were able to carry out such an attack. However, it seemed like there was no more time to admire your work as you gripped onto his school jacket’s sleeve, once again, as you had already turned back around to continue running to god knows where.

‘Maybe I went a little overboard…’

ꕥ

“What was that?” Nishimiya asked in slight fear, as she peered in the direction on where the unexpected explosions had occurred while noticing how some of the trees were suddenly on fire while others just seemed to be missing leading Kugisaki, Panda and Mechamaru (who were down below on the ground) to look towards the direction where they hear the destruction.

“Woah,” Kugisaki muttered in awe since she had a slight feeling that it was you, who caused the mass destruction just seconds ago.

“Well, it seems like we don’t have to worry about Gojo,” Panda mentioned to his lower classmate before he swiftly got back up on his feet to attack Mechamaru by launching a punch into the robot’s face causing Kugisaki to turn to him in shock since she thought he was still unconscious.

‘Yeah, I don’t have to ever worry about her’ Kugisaki thought confidently before turning towards her opponent with an annoyed look on her face.

ꕥ

“She can do that with flower petals?!” Utahime screamed in shock as she peered at the screen that was now just a pure full screen of static leading her to nearly drop her cup of tea, while Gojo looked at the same screen in slight surprise before he began to giggle while processing to remove his hands that were resting behind his head in amusement of what he had just witnessed from you.

“Awhhh so pretty~” Gojo commented as he clapped his hands like he was applauding you, leading Utahime to turn her gaze towards him in an irritated manner.

‘You love to keep surprising me, don’t you Y/N?’

“And that’s one bird down! Mei-san, is it possible to get another?” Gojo questioned as he peered back to his colleague causing her to giggle slightly as she opened her eyes again.

“Just who did you take in Gojo? You have a good eye if you decided to take her as your daughter, how much did you pay for her?” Mei replied, only for Gojo to look at her with a cheeky smile.

“Nothing, absolutely zero yen! I got her by pure chance, don’t tell me you’re planning to take her away from me, Mei-san?” Gojo jokingly commented back, before turning his sights on the Kyoto Principal, who seemed to be somewhat shocked at the current events that were transpiring on, but managed to maintain his composure leading to the strongest sorcerer to turn back to the other multitude of screens that were in front of him right now, like he was at the cinema watching an action movie.

‘The Kyoto student from what I’ve seen are real drags’

“That’s a bit harsh and violent from those said ‘drags’, don’t you think Y/N?” Gojo muttered under his breath as he waited for another crow to replace the one you had destroyed earlier.

‘At this rate, she won’t be able to track down the mole if Kamo is going to keep attacking her...oh well~ she’s a smart person, she’ll figure it out without even facing them’

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rantingwriter · 3 years

Text

Accidentally in Love (Hawks x Civilian Reader) Finale

Trigger warning: strong language, long hospital stay, slight angst

A couple of months passed since that magical night out with Hawks. You noticed his visits after that became more and more infrequent. You weren’t too worried at first, he is a pro-hero he is naturally busy. Now...you just weren’t sure what to think. “Yo, [y/n], how long are you trying to make your scarf?” Hime catches your attention and you quickly realize you made a 7 foot long plaid scarf.

“Oh, shit...uh…” you start to work in reverse to shorten the scarf back up to a more reasonable length. Today was knitting day, but you managed to convince Yumi (the recreation therapist) to let you use your quirk instead of the knitting needles. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“No worries, but what’s got you spacing out like this?” Ayame asks, only making a potholder with her limited (but slowly improving) range of motion.

“It’s-” you quickly check your surroundings before quietly continuing. “Hawks, he hasn’t been by in weeks…”

“He is a top ten pro hero, from my understanding that means they are notoriously busy.” Ayame tries to reassure you, but you have been telling yourself that too much to believe it. “Do you have his number? Maybe you can call him.”

“I do have his office number, but wouldn’t that be weird? What would I even say?”

“Maybe, how’s it going? Just checking in? Hadn’t heard and wanted to see if you are alright?” Hime ticks off options on her fingers, she is doing some embroidery which is a bit easier to complete one handed. “Even just a text would probably help put your mind at ease.”

You nod and finish your scarf up, folding it up onto the table for Yumi to come see. “Maybe after the group,” you continue to converse with the girls and Yumi praises your work when she gets to you. After the group wraps up, you go down to the hospital payphone, your cell is dead and you don’t have enough patience to wait for it to charge right now. You call the number Hawks gave to you. “Come on…” You hold your breath as it rings, your heart sinking when you get an answering machine. At the tone you do your damnedest to stop your voice from quivering with emotion. “Hey! It’s [y/n], I haven’t seen you around and I figured I would check in on you. I know you are probably busy, but...well...I guess I miss you.” You feel a lump form in your throat. “Just give me a call back or, uh, or a text, my number is…” you recite your cell phone number and tell him to have a good day before hanging up. You lean your forehead against the slightly warmed phone as it hangs from the receiver. Your heart is aching, “damn it, why am I so upset about this?” When your landlord kicked you out 4 weeks ago, you felt fine. You had a plan and your friends helped you out. You haven’t been making much progress since that first step, you weren’t upset, frustrated? A tad, but not the same level you got to in your first month here. Hawks ghosting you...just hit differently. You wheel your way back to your room, hoping he was waiting there, but alas it was empty. You set your scarf on the little table and get back in the familiar bed. You go against your better judgment and turn on the news, the silence in the room is just too much right now.

“In other news, pro-hero Hawks has been reported missing after taking on the mission to hunt down the dangerous villain: Live Wire.” The news anchor continues to speak, but you can’t hear it. You drop the remote to the floor with a loud clatter.

Fumi suddenly bursts into your room, “[Y/n]!” Your head slowly turns to meet her gaze, her voice barely registering. “Shit, I was afraid you would see that…” She quickly turns the TV off. “Word traveled fast, Mayu is a wreck and I heard you tried to call him.”

You swallow dryly, “he can’t be missing, he just can’t be. Maybe he is laying low? Or the media is trying to throw them off the trail?” You were trying to think of any possible alternative, but Fumiko somberly shakes her head no. “He can’t be gone!”

“[Y/n], I need you to calm down, take a deep breath for me.” She tries to reach out, but you swat her away.

“There is no way! I refuse to believe it! I-I can’t believe it!!” Your voice is steadily rising in pitch, your breathing is growing too erratic for your own good. Your friend quickly calls for help and your room fills with nurses and a doctor. They have to administer a mild sedative to bring you down from your near hysteria levels of panic. It ends up knocking you out for a couple of hours, your friend returning to work with a note left on your table with the promise to return that night. When you come to, you feel numb, someone you have grown to hold quite dear is missing and you are powerless to do anything. A nurse comes in to check your vitals when your phone buzzes with a message from an unknown number. You wait for the nurse to finish up before checking to see if it was an automated message or scammer preying on the weak again. Shock overcomes you as you read the messages.

Unknown: “Hey, it’s Hawks.”

Unknown: “Don’t respond, I’m not keeping this phone or this number.”

Unknown: “I hope you didn’t see that news report, but if you have, I’m okay.”

Unknown: “This mission is going to be a long one so I won’t be able to stop by. I’m sorry if I caused you any concern, but I was told not to tell anyone about this mission.”

Unknown: “I’m going to trust you to keep this between us ;)”

Unknown: “I promise to make up for my absence…”

Unknown: “When I return, I want to take you out on a date.”

Unknown: “And yes I mean a date date, not some half assed play date or anything that’ll leave you wondering where things are going.”

Tears pepper your phone screen, you felt so much relief and joy at just a few messages. Even if this was a sick, elaborate joke meant to make you think it was him, you held onto hope it was the genuine article.

Unknown: “Just know that I haven’t forgotten about you. I miss you...and I know it is incredibly selfish of me to ask…”

Unknown: “Please, wait for me.”

You nod as if he can see you, “I’ll wait, please just be safe.” You sob, your fingers clutching the scarf you made for him.

Unknown: “I have to go now. I want you to focus on your recovery, don’t worry about me. I’ll see you as soon as I can.”

The last one was sent a few minutes ago, you bury your face in your knees and let it all out. Fumiko comes by like she promised and you have feign ignorance about his whereabouts. You do your best to follow his last request and focus on your recovery. He was working hard, so you would too.

Two more months go by, no news of his whereabouts and no more secret messages either. Mayu hasn’t been herself since the announced disappearance, but she was powering through for her patients sake. You on the other hand have made great progress, you are finally walking. Actually walking! Granted you still need support to maintain balance, but you are able to move your legs again. You still utilize your wheelchair to get around the hospital, but you are doing your best not to rely on it too much now that you are regaining mobility.

After a couple of weeks of steady improvement, they are talking about a possible discharge date. You aren’t sure how to feel, you are ready to be back out and about and get back to your life. Yet at the same time there is still so much to take care of that you can’t help but feel overwhelmed. Rika tries to help by apartment hunting in your stead, now that a release date is on the calendar, but you still need to ensure the job offer is still in place with Best Jeanist.

Before you know it, you are walking without support and you are preparing to leave the hospital that has become your home for nearly a year. Hime and Ayame are so excited for you, both are still stuck for a little while longer, but you promised them to visit as often as possible. You thank all of your therapists, the ones who have been there the whole journey and the ones who only made occasional appearances. Your bags are packed, your prosthetic is in tip top shape, and your transport is all ready to go. Tomorrow, you are going home. You feel more melancholy than joy about the occasion. Part of you hoped Hawks would be back by now to see you off or at least hear some type of news on his whereabouts. You turn on the news right before bed, a new ritual just to see if there have been sightings or anything at this point. Expecting the same old news, you leave it on as background noise and busy yourself with something else.

Breaking news! Flashes across the screen and the news anchor fervently announces, “Hawks has finally returned after being off the grid for nearly 6 months. The villain known as Live Wire now confined to the maximum security prison of Tartarus!” You feel your heart swell, he is finally back! A loud ding of your phone alerts you to a new message.

New number: “Come to the roof.”

You quickly get in your wheelchair and wheel your way to the roof. You throw the door open and you feel your heart skip a beat. It’s him! It’s really him! He turns to face you as soon as he hears the metal door. His face is beaming, “Hey there kid.” The sound of his voice washes over you like a refreshing breeze on a hot day. “You look great, how are things going with treatment?”

You smile brightly, rising up from your wheelchair, you make it look like you have simply mastered standing. When you start running towards him, his face quickly morphs to one of shock. You leap at him, throwing your arms around his neck as he effortlessly catches you. You can hear the smile in his voice as he shouts out, “Holy shit!” He tightens his hold around you. “Holy shit!!” He lets go of you and pushes you back to look at you, his hands still firmly on your shoulders. “You are walking! You-you are running!!” He is a sputtering, excited mess.

“I actually leave tomorrow, I finally did it!” You cheer with him, lightly jumping as his wings puff up and expand outwards.

“I’m so proud of you! I wish I could’ve been here to see you,” his wings start to droop, but you quickly gather him back up and just embrace him for a minute.

“You are here now,” he returns the sentiment, burying his face into your shoulder. You both stay like that for a long time, relishing in the closeness and warmth. You finally break the silence, whispering in his ear. “So, still planning to take me out on a date?”

His breath tickles your skin as he chuckles, “of course,” he leans back his arms still firmly around you. “I wanted to talk to you before this mission, but...shit happens.” He starts to caress your cheek, halting his efforts to tug the glove off with his teeth. His warm hand has a much more welcoming feeling than the rough texture of the glove. “I really like you, more than I’ve ever liked anyone. I know we had a rocky start and things haven’t been the easiest since we met, but…” He hesitates, unsure how to continue when you throw the scarf you made him around the back of his neck and yank him close enough to press your lips to his. He jerks back initially, it takes him a few seconds to register what just happened. When the lightbulb in his brain lights up, he grabs the side of your face and crashes his lips into yours. You can’t help but laugh at his actions, wrapping your arms around his neck to solidify the connection. You are first to break it to catch your breath.

“I like you too, you goof.” You affectionately rub your nose against his and he rests his forehead against yours.

“I’m glad, I was more scared of this conversation than I was facing that villain.” You both laugh as you step back to properly wrap the scarf around him. “What’s this?”

“Something I made for you...think of it as a gift to cover the holidays I missed.” He smiles as he feels the material between his fingers.

“Thank you,” he takes your hands in his and lightly swings from side to side. When this all started, you couldn’t see a future, you felt lost, alone, and just empty. Now, you’ve made new friends, you felt like you’ve regained control of your life, and now you have a boyfriend; bonus points! The fear of leaving the hospital felt so small now, you were ready to get back to living.

#reader insert #hawks x reader #keigo x reader #keigo takami #pro hero hawks #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #slight angst #fluffy fluff #long shot #part 6 of 6 #tw: hospital

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

Otherworldly Kings and Queens (4/?)

Pairing: Peter Pevensie x Female!Reader / Prince Caspian x Female!Reader

Warnings: mentiones of violence, mentions of death

Word Count: 2.4k

Part Summary: As the group arrives at Aslan’s How, it’s evident that Caspian and Peter won’t exactly see eye-to-eye. When Peter

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Arriving at Aslan’s How is truly like something out of a picture book. We stop just before the archway. I stand beside Peter, observing him as he watches the scene unfold before him. Centaurs line the path and draw their swords in honor of the Pevensies, their Kings and Queens of Narnia. Peter appears unfazed, as though this is normal life. Then I realize, this is normal to him. He starts to walk along with his siblings. When he comprehends that I’ve stayed put, he turns to me in confusion. I release his hand and urge him to go out with a nod of my head. I’m not a Queen of Narnia. An unfamiliar expression crosses his face before he snaps out of it and hurries to rejoin his siblings. I glance over Caspian and his head falls as the siblings walk ahead.

“Don’t worry, you’re needed here too,” I assure him quietly.

His eyes meet mine and I offer him a soft smile. After all, if it weren’t for him, the Pevensies would’ve never made it back here. I can tell he’s unsure of himself, worried about all of the pressure on him. Caspian and the Pevensies are supposed to lead a revolution. I can’t help but wonder if it’s truly feasible. We’re just a couple of kids.

I nod my head toward the How and the two of us start walking together with Trumpkin following along.

After a tour of the hideout and Caspian showing us the shrine to Aslan, there’s a war meeting. Peter and Caspian are butting heads, not much of a surprise there. The presence of a power struggle between the two leaders is evident as day. Caspian believes we should wait for the Telmarines to make the first move. Peter thinks it’s best if we attack first with the element of surprise.

I sit with my knees close to my chest against a pillar with Ed. I rest my head on his shoulder, growing tired of this back and forth tennis match between royals. Plus, I haven’t slept in two days.

“If we dig in, we can hold them off indefinitely,” Susan sides with Caspian.

“But if they’re smart, they could starve us out,” Edmund voices.

Centaurs give their unwavering support if Peter does decide to lead a raid. They guarantee that they will fight to the death. I shake my head, earning the attention of Edmund who feels the motion against his shoulder. He can likely predict what I’m thinking. Brotherly, he places his hand over mine, rubbing his thumb over my skin gently.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Lucy interjects under her breath.

Peter turns to her, “I’m sorry?”

“Well, you’re all acting like there are only two options, dying here or dying there.”

Again, Lucy is the youngest, but still the wisest. I’m on team Lucy.

“I’m not sure you’ve been listening Lu,” Peter dismisses, much to my frustration.

“No, you’re not listening,” she fires back uncharacteristically. “Or have you forgotten who really defeated the White Witch?”

Lucy has a point there. I raise my brows, suppressing a smirk. Out of my peripheral vision I see Edmund checking for my reaction. I glance at the youngest boy.

“You should say something,” he advice.

I shake my head, denying the chance. There’s no way am I doing that.

“I believe we’ve waited for Aslan long enough,” Peter states to his sister.

What happened to the Peter who spoke so highly of the Guardian of Narnia? He praised Aslan and now he’s losing faith in him.

“Y/N, what do you think?”

I’m pulled from my train of thought upon hearing Peter saying my name. I scan the room and everyone’s eyes are on me, even the squirrels.

“Me?” I laugh nervously, rising to my feet. “I’m not sure I’m the best person to talk to.”

“But you are the fairest,” Susan compliments.

“Definitely the most patient,” Edmund adds by my feet.

Rubbing my hands together anxiously, I steadily approach Peter. I know what he wants me to say, he wants my support. I do support Peter as an individual, no matter what, but I can’t condone war. He likely knows what I’m going to say, he knew when he asked for my opinion. Yet, he asked for it anyway, perhaps out of hope that I’ve had a change of heart in the circumstance.

The room falls silent as Peter and I study each other’s face, silently pleading with the other to comply.

“You know I don’t believe violence is ever the answer,” I reason with him calmly.

“But we’re at war!” He fusses, pacing away from me in frustration.

I scoff, pausing to processes his words. He can’t be serious right now? After the last three years, he doesn’t think I’m well acquainted with what war means?

I lose my temper. “You don’t think I know that?!”

Peter whips his head around furiously and murmurs erupt amongst the Narnians. I’ve just yelled at their High King.

“We’ve been at war in our world for years now!” I shout at ‘King Peter,’ more like self-righteous Peter. “I know war! I understand war! What I don’t understand is creating more damage than necessary! Miraz is your problem? Target him! Attack him, not the entire palace where innocent lives could be taken!”

Peter pants, his red with anger as he restrains himself from yelling. Peter and I have only argued like this perhaps twice in our lives. Even in those instances, the reasons were never as imperative as this one. We argued about childish things, jealousy, and sharing. Now, we’re arguing about war and the priority of life. I’m only a teenager, these are conversations for adults.

I shake my head and my face falls in disappointment as I continue to look at my best friend. His eyes shift from expressing overpowering aggravation to guilt. Silently, I rush to the hall leading to the rest of the hideout. Peter reaches for me as I pass him, but I slip my wrist from his grip.

“Y/N!” Peter calls pleadingly to which I ignore.

I won’t participate in this discussion further. Peter and everyone else knows where I stand now, no need to stick around.

____________________________________________

The sunsets over Aslan’s How and soon the starry sky hangs overhead. I’ve been hiding on top of the How on the patches of grass since the meeting. At first, I was fuming. Peter isn’t being reasonable! He’s trying to prove himself to the Narnians and Caspian that he’s still this great king from before. I can tell he’s guilt-ridden because of his accidental return to our world, all of the Pevensies are.

“Why are you awake so late?”

A voice pulls me from my train of thought. Caspian strolls over to me and sits down on the grass next to me, resting against the rocks of the fortress.

“I can’t sleep,” I mumble as I play with a blade of grass. “I haven’t been able to.”

“I can assure you you’re safe here,” Caspian smiles faintly.

It’s not that I feel unsafe here per se. It’s my mind, it won’t stop wondering. Whenever I close my eyes, I’m afraid of what I’ll dream of.

“I don’t doubt it. I just...” I release a deep sigh, looking out over the field ahead. “It’s all just overwhelming.”

One minute, I’m on my way to school as I do each day, nothing exciting there. Then the next, I’m in some foreign land surrounded by mythical creatures who I was led to believe only existed in fantasy novels.

I turn my head to Caspian, admiring his side profile. “What keeps you up?” I ask him quietly.

He shifts, relaxing more into his position, and turns his head to meet my gaze. His jet black eyes that match his hair glisten under the stars. Little specks of white glimmer in them like stars.

“I uh... “ he swallows hard, his eyes flickering to the bit of ground between us. “Whenever I close my eyes I see my uncle’s face. When I try to sleep, I...”

I place my hand over him without a second thought. His sight returns to mine with a hint of surprise. Yet, he still appears troubled. I offer him a comforting smile, hoping it will grant him peace of mind.

“Nightmares are perfectly normal, Caspian.”

He nods, coming to terms with it. “Would you mind if I stay here with you for a little while?”

My smile grows and ease of relief across his features. “Not at all.”

______________________________________

Chatter, the sound of pounding metal, and birds chirping increase at a rapid rate. I shift a little, groaning at the sudden surge of disturbing sound. I can see light behind my closed eyes, so I hide my eyes in my hands. Utterly exhausted, I grant myself five more minutes. I moan, stretching out slightly to get comfortable again. I feel a weight on my waist and it tightens around me. Then, I feel something against my back and hear a deep sigh as warm breath brushes against my shoulder. I relax, a faint smile appearing across my lips.

Similar to a blast, I fly up from my laid position. My eyes adjust to the bright light of day slowly and I frantically search the area around me. Caspian awakes beside me in a panic due to my sudden surge of movement. Oh no, this is not good!

“Oh no, by all means, don’t scurry on my account” Trumpkin makes himself known a few feet away. “I was just about to throw up!”

i growl at the dwarf and rise from the ground. “Must you be so crude?”

Brushing down my dress, I march off to the path leading down to the How’s entrance. I hear Caspian chase after me.

“Y/N wait!” He calls.

Ignoring him, I continue my hurried pace down to the ground. Peter is likely having a fit wondering where I am. Falling asleep with Caspian on top of the How was not on my to-do list.

Right as I reach the stone path leading into the alcove, Caspian grabs my wrist. “Do you think we can train together today?”

I laugh, does he think me to be Joan of Arc? I’ve never fought a day in my life!

“Me? Train with you? I’m no soldier, I would ask Edmund or Peter. They’re far better than me,” I suggest as I start to walk away.

The Prince jogs ahead and blocks my path, placing his hand gently on my arm. “Well maybe so, but then we can learn together.”

Peter wouldn’t like it, that much I know for sure. He hardly let me borrow Edmund’s Katana. Since then, I’ve never actually used it. I drew it in the woods when Caspian and Peter were fighting, but I don’t know the first thing about defending myself.

“Alright,” I comply, much to Caspian’s pleasure. Perhaps it is to my benefit to training. After all, I suppose there will be a battle eventually, though I’ll do everything I can to stop it. “But I don’t think we should do it here,” I add.

He frowns, “why not?”

I raise my brows at the boy. “Have you met Peter?”

He snickers, understanding my point. “Okay, maybe you’re right. We could try by the river!”

“Alright,” I nod. “We should go now.”

I cautiously check around us to make sure no one overheard before heading inside. Other than a few Narnians transporting supplies and weaponry, we’re in the clear. As long as none of the Pevensies find out, especially Peter, Caspian and I should be okay.

__________________________________

Caspian and I have been training all afternoon by the river. I’m actually better than I thought I’d be. Once Caspian taught me some basic motions, I learned I could build off of them. At first, he was going easy on me, changing positions slower than he really would in a fight. As I started to get used to having a weapon in my hand, I could imagine it as an extension of my arm like Caspian instructed. Soon, I was putting up a real fight against Caspian. I spin and swing my sword to meet his blade at an angle.

Face to face, Caspian laughs breathlessly. “And you swear you’ve never used a sword!”

“No, we don’t exactly need them in Finchley,” I snicker.

“What is your world like?” He asks as he changes our position and nearly knocks my katana from my hands.

“It’s not necessarily exciting,” I grunt as I drop to a squat to sweep his legs.

He jumps to dodge the move, landing on his feet perfectly. “Tell me about it. What do you like to do there?”

I snicker, stepping to the side to swing my blade down onto his shoulder. “Are you wanting to know more about my world or more about me?”

Caspian takes advantage of my uneven stance and grabs my arm. Swiftly he spins me around and yanks me into his chest. I accidentally drop my sword and his hand wraps around my neck.

“You,” he whispers in my ear.

I swallow hard, glancing down at my katana laying in the plush grass just a few feet away. Keeping the status quo, I play along. “I like the ocean, but your’s here is far prettier,” I distract him. “When I was younger, my father used to take my family sailing on holiday... but that was years ago.”

His grasp around my neck eases up slightly and I take the chance to slip from his hold. I fall to my knees and reach for my Katana. I grip it’s handled right as Caspian rolls me over onto my back and climbs on top of me. He pins my wrists above my head.

“Why did you stop going?” He pants, referring to my story.

“The war,” I answer softly, my breathing uneven. “He died in a battle in France.”

His face falters sorrowly and his pressure on my wrists subsides. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright,” I mutter, not seeking his sympathy. “But now you understand why I don’t believe in war.”

“I lost my father many years ago too,” he confesses.

The despair in his eyes nearly breaks my strong facade. No one should have to lose a parent, especially at a young age. Losing a father leaves a greater hole in one’s heart than most can predict. There are far more long-lasting effects deeply rooted in the experience than meets the eye. I’ve put on a strong face for my family and friends for so long that I’ve grown used to it. None of them understand. Yet here, I’m faced with someone who does.

“Then you truly understand.”

My words release in a whisper, the relief evident in my voice. Caspian nods gently, then his eyes flicker down at my lips. I bite down on the lower, tempted. No, I can’t do it. Peter’s face flashes across my mind. Yet, I can’t deny the alluring feel I have in Caspian's presence. At this moment it’s never been stronger. Caspian leans down, hovering over my face closer than before. My eyes uncontrollably fall to his parted lips. If he kissed me, I wouldn’t deny him. In fact, I find myself wishing he would. My eyes fall shut and his lips brush against mine.

“Y/N!” Peter’s voice booms over the otherwise peaceful wood.

__________

Masterlist

Tags: @blackbirddaredevil23 @rangergranger11 @hyperactiveravenclaw

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