#I haven’t practiced in like a month though wish me luck for this week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sakarrie-creates · 1 year

Text

2022 Fic Round-Up/Reflection

Am I over a month late? Yes. Is that going to stop me? Nnnnnnope.

Another year gone and another end of year summary! Yeash, it’s been a rough creative year haha. I’ve practically done nothing but school and work, which has certainly been problematic for writing. It’s been a productive adulting year though, so hopefully this dead period will help me find more opportunities down the line. My gosh I’m ready to be done with school already.

Since I’ve really not written much this year, this will be an abridged version of my reflection from last year’s template. That being said, I’m still very rambly so you can see the details below the cut!

2022 Stats:

Fics Started: 11 Fics Fully Written: 3 Fics Posted: 2 New WIPs: 7 Total WIPs: 20 (ish?) Words Written: 25,950 (33,176 if including documents of pure brainstorm ramble lol) Words Posted: 9,541 Fandoms Written For: 2 Events: 2 (+1)

Posted Fics

Carmen Sandiego (Gen): 1

So Long As You're With Me (7,804): It's been several months since Team Red rescued Player from the clutches of VILE and snapped him out of their control... mostly. His base personality is back, but he still doesn't remember them from anything other than the false memories VILE created for him. And it's just their luck that VILE painted Carmen and company in such a way that Player thinks that their attempts to help him is all some elaborate form for torture, and it doesn't help that he's currently recovering from an injury she caused. Carmen is near her wit's end, but she refuses to give up on her oldest and best friend.

Supernatural (Gen): 1

Still the Same (1,737): After a hunt, Sam and Dean watch the stars for the first time since Dean came back from Hell. Things are finally starting to fall back into place between them, but it's impossible to ignore the ways things have changed.

Specifics:

Events Participated In:

SPN Summergen, Player Appreciation Week (Fic and Art), Code Secret Santa (Art), Miraculous Magic Zine (Revamp Fic), and Fandom Trumps Hate (Offered Art/Fic).

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted?

Oof, hard to answer. Definitely less than I’d hoped and maybe still a fair bit less than I expected, but I did know that my life was about to get swallowed by school and I wasn’t wrong. I definitely wish I had been able to participate in more events for sure and I’ve had a lot of inspiration for all sorts of stuff that I just haven’t had the brain power for unfortunately. What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year?

I mean, looking at posting, I only have two options lol. In general though, I stuck fairly close to my norm for all that. I poked around time travel AUs which was fun but most of that was brainstorming/animatic storyboarding rather than writing.

What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest.

Definitely So Long As You're With Me! That AU lives in my head rent free and boy howdy I’d love to share it all one day but there’s just so much to it. I swear, the pieces I have shared are hardly recognisable as the same story haha. Anyway, it’s definitely a little rushed at some points, but it was a very crammed piece that just kept getting longer, so I’ll take it!

Okay, NOW your most popular story.

Since I’ve only posted two new works this year, we’re going to go overall. Which would definitely still be Fragmentation. It’s got 20.3k views!! That’s only 400 less than it’s total word count and it seems like the hit count keeps going up slowly, which is wild to consider it’s on FF.net in a faded fandom and has been complete for like a year. Next up would be The Problem With Good Intentions at 11k, which also blows me away a bit cause Merlin ended a decade ago but I’m proud of the fandom for staying alive! XD

Story most underappreciated by the universe?

Probably still A Letter to Never Be Read on FF.net. It’s a pretty niche fic, so I can’t really be surprised but I felt artsy writing it way back when lol.

Most overdue story?

Welp, It’s Only Natural is certainly overdue, but I don’t think anyone is really following that one so it’s not in a rush. A Long Ways Home on the other hand drives me crazy cause I’ve actually been wanting to write for it, but brainpower’s been too low from school. Can’t believe it’s been a year. :’(

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them?

Tbh, not really? I pushed myself in what I did, but it was all relatively in my comfort zone. I guess I tried writing in S4 of Supernatural in Still the Same, but that doesn’t feel much like a risk. I also tried out some writing from screenshot prompts which was super fun and interesting, but unfortunately that was sniped by lack of time/energy too. So I guess not really this year.

How’d this year compare to your goals of last year?

Oh boy, I’m so intimidated to read these paragraphs haha. I bet I did like none of them. We’ll start with the bullet list though since that should be fairly straightforward. -Unfortunately, prioritizing school is honestly my biggest writing goal this year. So if I do that all successfully and get through any more than like, 1-2 of these, it will be a success haha.

-A Long Ways Home (Gonna break it up into Chapter 3, Chapter 4, and if that’s not the epilogue, then an epilogue. I’m determined and really think it’s doable, I just need to be careful not to overestimate again) WIP Bang if not done by Summer. -SPN Summergen -PAB if enough interest -February week event -Loyalties AU Plotting/Drafting -SQZ Zines -Comments

If crazy inspired year: -Gencest Bang -WIP Bang with It’s Only Natural -Post More CS One-shots -Other Zines

Okay, so some of those crossings are a little generous, but I wanted to at least check off the school one haha. Tbh, though, it wasn’t as bad as I expected! I did a decent job of having low expectations lol.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

Oh boy. See I wish that this last year being so sad would mean this year would be back to creative rush, but I’m already a month in and I haven’t even tried writing anything other than school papers. I’ve been getting surprisingly into Huntlow (omg, Sakarrie having a romantic ship that she’s like legit into????? whacK), so it’d be fun to experiment with some fic there! Willow needs more angst fic to balance out our traumatized golden boi. Trying to find some zines would also be fun! And I’ll be sad if I ever have to miss Summergen cause it’s 100% my favorite event of the year. Oh, and of course I’m hoping to be able to participate more in Player Appreciation Week this coming month!! Shameless plug.

I’d also like to make some progress on A Long Ways Home, so hopefully in my Summer break I’ll finally have a chance to sit down and write. I’m not going to be dumb enough to put time frame estimations on it again though haha. I also am not a huge fan of having WIPs just sitting out there so if I could knock off It’s Only Natural sometime, that’d be great, but it’s honestly not a priority and I haven’t been feeling Voltron for a bit.

As for other plans, Loyalties AU and EverYOnE is bROkeN AU both haunt me at night and then there’s the time travel au that just has my brain zooming whenever I think about it. They just all get so intense and I WANT to share that intensity cause I know they could be epic, but first I gotta finalize the details, then I gotta have the skills to pull it off, then I gotta actually write sooooooooooooo we’ll see where those get me.

Okay so comments. Bah that project is such a mindset monster haha. I want to be supportive and express thanks to those who write and comment, but also the more pressure I put on it, the harder it gets. I feel like it makes reading new fics very intimidating and makes leaving chill comments harder. I think it would be nice to get through, but I think my goal for this year is to let my 1000 tabs go and just comment/respond in the moment whenever I can and not overthink it. I do want to catch up on replies though so that can be my comment goal for this year. In terms of my numbers, though, I did meet my generous goal of 20k written and 10k posted this year! (Rounding a little but close enough.) And I met my ultimate wc goal if brainstorming essays count!

Bullet list time!

2023:

-Unfortunately, keeping my scholarship has to be my biggest goal this year again so gonna put that here in case it's the only thing I can check off come December. -A Long Ways Home (at least 1 new chapter) -SPN Summergen -At least 3/7 Player Appreciation Week days -Catch up on comment replies -At least do some more brainstorming for bigger CS aus -Huntlow/Owl House fics? -One zine?

If crazy inspired year: -All of A Long Ways Home -All Player Appreciation Week Days -WIP Bang with It’s Only Natural -Post More CS One-shots -Write out more big AU scenes -Other Zines

So with that, I’m gonna set my word count bar pretty low again haha. In fact, I think I’ll just leave it as it was last year.

Easy Goal Word Count Goal: 20k (at least 10k posted)

Stretch Goal (aka, if I don’t die from school): 40k (at least 25k posted)

Ultimate 2023 Word Count Goal: 30k

#sakarrie's fic #carmen sandiego #supernatural #gen #ao3 #fic list #2022 fics #end of year reflection #2022 fic roundup

2 notes · View notes

mental-health-advice · 1 year

Note

I'm 22, and have been on almost three months on hrt treatment (mtf).

The emotions have become too much and I don't know how to handle them. Lately I've been having a lot of self hate bc I still want to satisfy others and don't want to be an annoyance or inconvenience. Also my dysphoria has been worsening by the day.

I ask myself how can I ask others to see me some way if I still don't see myself in a good way, I just feel like I'm an impostor.

(tw)

With all of this, this last two weeks I had an anxiety attack and intrusive thoughts of suicide and self harm. I know these can be attributed to the hormones, and finally being able to feel all my bottled up emotions on a more deep level, but idk what to do.

Also, I have seek help with the collage psychologists and counseling, but so far three attempts and none has helped me at all.

There's more, but with this, I hope I can get some advice or something idk, my partner told me it would be a good idea.

Thanks u.u

Hey there,

Being on HRT treatment can be really hard and challenging for some people and especially with the emotions and anxiety that can come up from it at the beginning of treatment until your body is able to adjust more to it and the changes it is making to your body.

I think it was really good that you were able to reach out to us here at MHA although I know it probably wouldn’t have been easy. But thank you for at least trying us!

With all of the emotions that are coming up for you, do or could you try writing them down and giving the emotion a name. So for example ‘this emotion I am feeling is hatred towards myself.’ And then try your best to just let go of that thought/ emotion and refocus your attention on something completely different and remind yourself that how you are feeling is just that, a feeling or emotion and it cannot hurt you. By doing this you are accepting how you are feeling but then allowing it to flow through you and leave. This is something I have been practicing myself with my psychiatrist when I wake from bad nightmares that are abuse related and no, it’s not easy, and it’s something that you have to keep trying and practicing at doing but it is helpful when you are able to let go of whatever emotion or thought that is bringing you down or overwhelming you.

In regards to your anxiety attacks, we do have a page on calming anxiety and panic which I encourage you to check out. We also have pages on alternatives to self-harm and reasons not to self-harm. Now, I know that by simply reading these pages won’t help immediately, but skim through the different techniques and try the ones that you feel may be beneficial for you. All we can do is try, right?!

I am so sorry that you haven’t had any luck in getting help and support from psychologists and counsellors at your college. It’s important to know though that we as people are all different and so what works for one person may not be as helpful for someone else. The same can be said about mental health professionals, some we may click with and find really helpful in talking to whilst others we may just feel it doesn’t work for us and this is completely OK. Are you able to talk to the person you are going through for your HRT treatment and chat to them about where you are currently at mental health wise. They may be able to refer you onto a specialist therapist that may be more helpful for you and what you are going through!

I really hope that this has helped a bit and please do let us know if we can help to support you in any other way!

I’m thinking of you, hope you are going well and wish you all the best with the rest of your treatment!

Take care,

Lauren

#mha-lauren #advice #advice blog #mental health advice #anonymous #HRT treatment #anxiety attacks #suicidal ideation #self-harm urges #getting help

1 note · View note

helloalycia · 3 years

Text

lose you [two] // leigh shaw

summary: following her kiss with you, Leigh begins to act unfairly towards you and says something she instantly regrets.

warning/s: none i don't think?

author's note: only one more part after this! hope you’re all liking it, and if you’re not an elizabeth fan, i’ve got a kara danvers two parter coming up after this so stay tuned! also the lena imagine part three one is still in the works, so don’t worry, i haven’t neglected it!

part one | part three | masterlist | wattpad

Leigh had ghosted me before. She'd done it on and off throughout the first six months following her husband's death, unable to maintain contact when she barely had energy for herself. And I was patient, always, because that's what she needed. But this was different.

Her absence in my life was nothing to do with her grief, but rather the kiss she gave me the day I decided to take her out. It just had to be that, otherwise she was merely being ignorant and I knew she wasn't that harsh without reason.

Whenever I texted or called her, it wasn't with the intention of talking about what happened. She hadn't brought it up and I didn't want to pressure her into speaking about it, especially if it was a mistake (which, selfishly, I hoped it wasn't). I just wanted to hang out with her like we used to, but she was giving me blunt responses or claiming she was busy. It was like she was doing her utmost best to push me away and I couldn't take it anymore.

After about two weeks, she simply stopped responding to my texts. Her 'busy' life was keeping her from even acknowledging my contact and that was when I couldn't put up with it any longer. This wasn't about grieving or needing space, this was about her avoiding me for something she did.

On my day off, I headed over to Beautiful Beast, Leigh's mother's fitness studio where she worked. When I arrived, Jules was sat at the front desk, wiggling a pencil before her eyes distractedly.

"You look like you're real hard at work there, Jules," I commented playfully, smiling at her as she paid me attention.

"I was testing out that whole rubber pencil trick," she said nonchalantly.

"And your conclusion?" I asked, leaning against the front desk.

She couldn't help but smile. "It's pretty cool."

I chuckled at how cute she was. "Good to know."

"So," she began, leaning back in her seat. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, I was hoping you could tell me if Leigh is in? I feel like I haven't seen her in a while."

Jules was about to respond, then her eyes fell behind me and she smiled. "Speak of the devil... there's your answer, Y/N."

I followed her gaze and realised the class that was going on in the studio had ended, with students leaving tired but happy. Leigh trailed out after them, using a sweat towel to wipe her face and push the loose strands of hair from her ponytail out of her face. She approached the desk, but upon spotting me, seemed surprised.

"Y/N," she said, rounding the desk to stand beside Jules. "You're here. Hi."

She was casual, unbothered by the fact that she'd clearly been ignoring me the past few weeks. I decided not to question it, instead offering her a small, awkward smile.

"Hey," I greeted with a nod. "I was hoping to catch you. Are you, er, busy?"

She avoided my eyes as she lowered her sweat towel, now grabbing her water bottle from the desk and busying herself with it.

"I mean, I've got class in an hour," she said with a shake of her head.

"Perfect. Maybe we can grab lunch and talk?" I asked, not giving her chance to decline since there was no reason to.

She furrowed her brows, feigning confusion. "Talk? About...?"

I pursed my lips, raising a brow with disbelief. She was seriously going to play it like this? Judging from the absent stare she was sending my way, she was. So, I glanced at Jules, who was back to distracting herself with her pencil and barely paying attention to what we were talking about, before looking back to Leigh.

"About things...?" I settled on, knowing she'd know what I meant. "I haven't heard from you in a while."

Leigh scrunched her nose, shrugging apologetically. "I'm sorry, I'd love to, but I'm going to be practicing for my next class. Maybe not today."

I kissed my teeth with annoyance. "Hm. Okay, sure. Good luck with your class, I guess."

Rolling my eyes, fed up at her pretence, I said a quick goodbye to a half-listening Jules and left them both to it. I'd like to think Leigh would come to her senses and contact me, but maybe that was wishful thinking. Either way, it was certainly not thinking for now, so I tried not to let it bother me for the time being.

—

Waiting on Leigh to make first contact was probably not the brightest idea, since I was sure if it was up to her, she'd just ghost me forever. But I was stubborn and I wanted to make a point (clearly not a very good one since she still proceeded to ignore me...), so another week passed without speaking to one another.

The only reason I went over to her house one evening was because Jules asked for my help with something. Since I was a graphic designer, she'd asked me to help design the promotional material for this new set of classes she wanted to start at work. Of course I said yes – in the many years I'd befriended Leigh, I'd also befriended Jules. I was happy to help, even if it meant awkwardly bumping into Leigh.

When I arrived, I was greeted by Leigh and Jules' mum before being led to the dining-room with Jules to help her. I tried to hide the fact that I was subtly searching for Leigh around the house, genuinely wanting to make sure she was okay despite the radio silence on her end, when Jules seemed to notice.

"She's not here," she said, making me look to her, embarrassed I'd been caught out. "She's on some date."

I raised my eyebrows, nodding. "Oh. Cool."

It shouldn't have bothered me – Leigh had been on a handful of dates in the past month, attempting to move on – but it did. Maybe it was because I foolishly thought our kiss meant something to her, since she initiated it. Clearly not, since she was already moving on. It didn't help that she couldn't just act normal with me if it meant nothing to her. No time for her best friend but time for dates with random people? Not cool.

"Did something happen with you two?" Jules asked whilst starting up her laptop.

I hid my panic with confusion. "What do you mean? Did she, er, say something?"

Jules shook her head, leaning on the palm of her hand as she glanced at me. "No, nothing. I just thought I'd ask since I haven't seen you around with her lately. Thought maybe you'd fallen out or something."

So she hadn't told her sister what happened. Maybe she really did want to forget about it.

"No, she's just been busy I guess," I mumbled in response, before pulling my memory card out my bag. "Forget that anyway. Let's see what we can do with your promo stuff, huh?"

Leigh long-forgotten, I showed Jules the designs I'd come up with for her banners and posters, which she was super excited about, and got to work. We mocked up some promotional material for her to get printed soon and she talked me through what she had in the works which was adorable since it was great to see her invested in everything. She'd come a long way from rehab and it was refreshing to witness.

We snacked so much whilst working that by the time I finished, I knew I wouldn't need to eat dinner. Jules' mum offered, but we were stuffed and it was getting late.

"If you need anything else, just let me know," I told Jules as I grabbed my bag to leave. "If you want anything changing, also let me know."

She gave me a thumbs up and a grin. "You got it, chief. Thanks again. I know you have an actual job to do an–"

"Don't do that," I stopped her with an amused smile. "I'm always happy to help you out."

She nodded appreciatively. "Well, thanks. I'll let you go."

I waved goodbye to her before shouting a goodbye to her mum and heading to the door, letting myself out. Only, when I opened the door, I squealed awkwardly upon seeing Leigh making out with some random guy on the porch. The uncontrollable noise that escaped my lips was enough to pull them apart with a start.

"Y/N," Leigh got out with shock, wiping her mouth and clearing her throat. "What are you– what?"

Still dumbfounded, I swallowed hard and looked away. "I– er– sorry to interrupt. I'm just gonna– mhm."

Closing the front door behind me, I quickly walked around the pair and began to leave, trying not to let my surprise, hurt and irritation build up inside of me. It wasn't my business if she kissed somebody else. It was her life – she could do whatever she wanted.

"Wait, Y/N!" I heard her call and winced at the sound.

Pretending not to hear her, I picked up my pace and finally made it to my parked car, fumbling for my keys in my bag under the dimly-lit streetlamp.

"Y/N, wait up!" she called again, and I risked looking up to see her approaching my car quickly, eventually stopping by my side.

Now that I had a better look, I saw that she was dressed up beautifully for her date, wearing a black dress that accentuated her curves and high heels that dared anybody not to stare. Though, when I met her gaze, I saw her ruined red lipstick and was reminded of the stranger she'd just been making out with.

"It's cool, I'm sorry," I repeated, shaking my head and wishing I could feel my keys in my bag already. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

"It's not like that," she said breathlessly, holding her jacket and watching me carefully.

Finally finding my keys, I pulled them out and unlocked my car. "Not like what?" I asked, glancing at her with a tight jaw. "You can go on dates, Leigh. It's not my business."

Her expression softened. "Then why are angry?"

"I'm not angry," I said, before realising it was a little more hostile than I intended. "Look, forget it. Just enjoy your stupid date. I've got to go."

Before I could open the door, she grabbed my arm and pulled me back, eyes darkened with annoyance.

"What's your problem?" she asked impatiently.

I shook her off me and widened my eyes with disbelief. "Are you serious right now? You followed me!"

"Yeah, because you're clearly pissed at something!" she snapped, crossing her arms. "What's your problem?"

For once, I wasn't going to put up with her bullshit mood swings. It wasn't fair how she was treating me and I was going to do something about it.

"You're my problem, Leigh," I admitted with a glare. "I've been waiting for you to call or text or make some freakin' effort to acknowledge my existence, but as usual, nothing. And then to top it all off, I find out you're on some date when you can't even find a spare second to text your best friend that you're okay!"

She scoffed. "Sorry I have a life, Y/N."

Clenching my jaw, I pushed down the anger that was bubbling up inside. She looked so smug, like she'd done absolutely nothing wrong in this scenario, and it was pissing me off.

"You know what? Never mind," I gave up, releasing a shaky breath. "You clearly don't get it."

I tried to move around her and get into the driver's seat of the car, but she groaned loudly with petulance.

"Why the hell were you even here anyway?!" she asked, like she had the right to. "Couldn't you leave me alone for one night?"

I tried not to laugh. "Don't flatter yourself, love. If you'd actually bothered to talk to me, you'd know I was here to help Jules with her posters."

"Sorry that I thought that you couldn't leave me alone for two minutes," she said with a bitter smile. "It's like you don't even know how to function without me in your life."

I clenched my fists with frustration. "Wow, Leigh, big-headed much?"

She laughed dryly, shaking her head. "I kiss you once and now you won't leave me the hell alone!"

Leigh and I had been in so many arguments before this one – it's like they were inevitable with her – but I'd put up with them. I'd let her yell and call me names and treat me like shit because I knew she didn't mean it, it was a heat of the moment thing. But something was different this time. Her words stung a lot more than they should have, especially when they were delivered by somebody I thought I was in love with.

I unclenched my fists and scowled at her. "Go fuck yourself."

Not bothering to wait for her response, I ignored the way her expression changed into one of regret and guilt. I ignored her as she tried to tell me to wait. And I ignored her as her she knocked on my window when I got into the car. I didn't spare her a glance as I drove away, feeling tears prick the corner of my eyes.

Leigh Shaw could be such a bitch sometimes.

—

"Y/N, you've got a–"

"Whatever it is, I'll sort it," I reassured my new assistant. Ever since my promotion, it felt strange to have somebody work for me, but I was slowly getting used to. "Go have your break, Taylor! You've not moved from this seat all day."

Taylor smiled bashfully but nodded. "Okay. Thanks a lot."

I gave her a reassuring smile as I watched her leave. I'd just finished a long meeting with a client and couldn't wait to get to my office and procrastinate for a bit before getting on with some work. Only, when I opened the door, I was surprised to find someone sat in the seat in front of my desk. Maybe that's what Taylor was trying to tell me.

"Hello, can I help you?" I called politely, closing the door and stepping inside.

"I like the new digs."

I froze, smile fading when the stranger stood up and turned around. It was Leigh and I wasn't sure how she'd gotten here, but I wasn't dealing with her right now.

it had been a few days since we'd argued and she'd been trying to get in touch, but I completely blocked her number. It wasn't a permanent decision, but rather a temporary solution to a problem I wasn't in the headspace to deal with right now.

Every time I thought about Leigh or what she'd said, I felt so angry and fed up. She had no right to treat me how she did or make me feel like this when it was her fault. Blocking her was the easiest bet until I decided how to deal with everything. Clearly she hadn't gotten the hint though, since she was waiting for me in my office.

"How did you get in here?" I asked through gritted teeth, trying not to roll my eyes at the stupid smile on her face.

"Your new assistant let me in," she said as I headed to my desk, before adding comically, "She definitely has a crush on you by the way."

I narrowed my eyes at her from across the desk. "You need to leave."

Her humour disappeared, as did her smile, when she met my gaze with remorseful eyes. "I just want to talk."

I shook my head, looking down. "No, this isn't the place for this. And I've heard everything you had to say, Leigh."

"Y/N, please," she pleaded, stepping forward. "I want to apologise."

With a stern stare, I said, "Go."

"Please, just hear me–"

"No!" I erupted with anger, making her jump at the volume of my voice. "You don't get to do this! Not now, not here!" Swallowing the lump in my throat and trying to hide the hurt in my voice, I nodded to the door. "Just get out. After all, I wouldn't want you thinking I'm obsessed with you."

She pressed her lips together and looked down to her fumbling hands with guilt. It was quiet, though the air between us screamed with unspoken words. I hated this so much, the arguing, the anger, the resentment. But I wasn't giving in this time. She'd gone too far and she had to learn that her actions had consequences. She couldn't just get away with it. She had to respect my space.

"I'm sorry," she said gently, looking up with a genuine expression.

I clenched my jaw and said nothing as I waited for her to leave. Finally, she pursed her lips before turning around and going. When the door closed behind her, I let out a breath and sank into my chair, feeling exhausted at the short conversation. I wasn't ready to talk to her yet and I wished she'd just respect that.

Following that, I made sure to tell Taylor when she came back from her break to not let Leigh into my office until further notice. Or rather, not let her upstairs until further notice. She wasn't allowed to bother me in my workplace just because she felt bad.

Of course, not letting her in only meant I received more calls. Especially since I blocked her number, so she deemed it appropriate to call my work phone. Every time Taylor came into my office to let me know it was Leigh, I had to tell her to tell Leigh I was busy and end the call. And the times when I wasn't there, I had several messages from Leigh to reply to. It got to a point where I had to temporarily block her number from work, too. It was the only way to have some space without completely flipping out on Leigh.

One day though, Leigh decided to pay me a visit. She was resilient, I'd give her that much.

Taylor asked me what I wanted for lunch when I said I was in the mood to go out and eat and she could join me if she wanted to. She agreed and we both made our way to the bottom floor before leaving the building. But then I saw Leigh hovering about outside the front door, approaching me as soon as she spotted me.

Already rolling my eyes, I tried to sidestep her, but she was adamant on being a pain in my arse.

"Leave me alone, Leigh," I told her tiredly.

"They won't let me in and you've been avoiding my calls," she said, a little peeved. "What were you expecting?" Her eyes flickered to Taylor, who seemed awkwardly stuck between our bickering. Rather rudely, she asked, "Can I help you?"

Taylor didn't know what to say as I glared at Leigh harshly.

"Don't be a bitch just because you're pissed at me," I insulted, before looking Taylor apologetically. "D'you think you can give us a minute, Taylor? This won't take long."

Taylor nodded, glancing between Leigh and I. Leigh had her arms crossed, focusing a hard stare on Taylor as she walked away. When she was out of earshot, I lightly poked Leigh in the shoulder to get her attention.

"That's not fair," I muttered angrily. "She didn't do anything to you."

Leigh glanced towards her again before looking to me questioningly. "Where are you even going with her?"

I squinted at her judgementally. "If you must know, we're getting lunch. It's that time of the day in case you couldn't tell."

Leigh uncrossed her arms and straightened up. "So, what? This is a date?"

I furrowed my brows. "What? No! What are you–?" I glared at her. "This is none of your business!"

"Well, if it's not, you're definitely gonna give her the wrong impression," Leigh stated with a shrug. "She has a crush on you. Is that even allowed since you're her superior an' all?"

I pinched the bridge of my nose to contain my frustration, before meeting her spiteful green stare.

"If you came here to give me your unsolicited opinions, I don't want them," I said under my breath, making sure passers-by on the street couldn't hear us. "Now, leave me alone."

Her spite dispersed and was replaced with guilt. "Wait, no, I–"

"No, Leigh," I told her firmly, eyes silently pleading for her to give me some space. "You have to stop this."

Green eyes searched mine desperately, but I didn't have time for this, so I left her standing there as I rejoined Taylor and hoped lunch would help me forget about Leigh and her impatience.

"Sorry about that," I said to Taylor when I rejoined her side.

Taylor smiled reassuringly as we began to walk. "It's okay, don't worry about it." It was quiet, before she spoke up again. "Do you mind if I say something a little out of place?"

I looked to her curiously. "Er, sure?"

"I obviously don't know the specifics of what happened between you and your girlfriend, but–"

"Girlfriend?" I interrupted with raised brows. "Taylor, Leigh and I– we aren't–"

She seemed to catch on, eyes wide with embarrassment. "Oh! I'm so sorry! I just thought– well, she's very persistent and I thought that maybe you were together and in a lover's spout or something."

Heat crept up my neck as I loosened my collar. "No, nothing like that. She's just a friend."

Breathing out, Taylor said, "Oh. Well, I mean, I guess my advice still applies. She seems to really care about you."

I snorted. "She has a funny way of showing it."

Taylor smiled. "I know. My boyfriend is the same. We once had an argument and he did the same thing your Leigh is doing. Wouldn't stop bothering me. At home. At work. I let my stubbornness get to me and didn't want to hear him out."

I pursed my lips, glancing at her. "What did you do?"

She laughed like it was obvious. "I heard him out."

That didn't sound like an option for me right now.

"She doesn't respect my personal space," I explained to Taylor, glad to have someone to vent to. "She did some... hurtful things. I'm not making it easy for her."

"Clearly," Taylor noted with amusement. "Look, that's just my experience. But all I'm saying is that your friend Leigh seems to care about you a lot. To the point that she'd glare daggers at your very unavailable assistant."

Goddamn Leigh and her ability to embarrass me even when she wasn't here.

"Thanks, Taylor," I said appreciatively. "I'll have a think about it."

She nodded knowingly. "Anytime."

I definitely wasn’t ready to hear Leigh out yet, I knew that much.

#leigh shaw x you #leigh shaw x reader #leigh shaw imagine #leigh shaw #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen imagine #sorry for your loss imagine #sorry for your loss

365 notes · View notes

iheartcake123 · 2 years

Text

☁️fishing-park jongseong☁️

warnings: none

Masterlist

summary: jay takes you fishing but soon secrets are spilled

-2nd person p.o.v-

you yawned, holding the fishing rod in you hand as you watched your floater.

“it’s only been an hour and you’re already tired?” jay let out a chuckle and you nodded your head with a smile.

“it’s so quiet here, im getting sleepy” you told him and he nodded as his cast his rod out into the lake.

“that’s the nice thing about fishing, it’s so peaceful and it’s like time slows done…i love it” he then sat in his outdoor chair that was a couple of feet away from you.

“i guess…my life is already slow in comparison to yours, so i guess the quietness isn’t something im too fond of”

jay hummed in response. he agreed with the answer, his life was constantly on the move while yours was a lot slower. you were in university and he was in a kpop group.

two totally different lifestyles.

heck it even shocked you that jay wanted to hang out or even had the time to hang out. usually he was so busy to the point that a phone call once a month was lucky.

you’d admit, you weren’t that close to him anymore but , it’d be lie if you didn’t feel disappointment when you couldn’t contact him for a while or when you would see your other friends getting invited to go to his performances. but, you knew he was living his dream meaning he was busy so you probably slipped his mind a lot of the time, so you couldn’t complain too much.

“how did your exams go? i know i never had a chance to wish you good luck” jay then asked looking at you quickly before looking back to his fishing rod.

“jay, exams were over 3 months ago” you let out a laugh “but i did okay, i passed all of them so that’s always good”

“3 months? i swear it was the other week when you told me?” he answered back, shocked that it had been that long.

“yep. 3 months ago” you smiled getting comfy in your seat.

“wow…” he sighed still shocked at himself.

“anyways, tell me about everything…how’s life being a superstar huh?”

you wiggled your eyebrows and he blushed shaking his head.

“im not a superstar..really. but it’s been fun, just so much work with constantly practicing and then fancalls, music shows and preparing for a concert” he then said and you nodded your head.

“i see i see, but hey! where my invite to your concert? it’s been over a year and i still haven’t seen you perform in front of me and y/f/n has told me she already got her invite” you reached over and nudged him playfully.

“ayee, no, i can’t perform in front of you. i’d be too nervous” he laughed causing you to sigh dramatically.

“please, you used to sing in front of me all the time before you debuted”

“yeah..but it’s different now. maybe one day though i’ll perform for you”

you raised an eyebrow.

you thought he was joking at first.

did he actually not want to perform in front of you?

“wait..jay are you serious?” you then said and he tried to play if off as a joke.

“of course not, i was just kidding” he then said but you could tell he wasn’t kidding.

you let out a fake laugh before falling silent.

you were confused.

and now your mood was also sour.

“we should do this more often” jay then said putting his fishing rod on a stand.

“yeah, i guess” you were always bad at hiding your feelings when you weren’t in the best mood.

jay sighed before turning to you.

“what’s wrong?” he asked and you shrugged.

“who said anything was wrong” you then mumbled putting your fishing rod down on and crossing your arms.

“it’s clear there’s something wrong, you’re sulking”

“whatever” you said under your breath and jay shook his head.

“you’re just ruining the mood, tell me what’s wrong!” he then demanded but you ignored him and kept your eyes out on the lake.

“fine, don’t tell me then” he furrowed his eyebrows as he sunk into his seat.

he was silent for about 20 minutes before groaning and turning to you again.

“just tell me” he complained and you looked at him with a blank face.

“how about you tell me what’s wrong with performing in front of me? and why you won’t invite me to places” you told him and he immediately closed his eyes and took a deep breath in.

“you’re still on that?” he then said after opening his eyes again.

“yes i am because it doesn’t make sense..why can’t you perform in front of me?” you needed an answer.

“there’s nothing to tell.” he didn’t look at your face.

“is it because we barely see each other anymore? is that why?”

“just leave it”

“no. do you not want me as a friend anymore? is that why you don’t invite me places or call me often unlike everyone else we know?” you couldn’t think of any other excuse.

“god. just drop it y/n! i already told you i was kidding” he sighed loudly.

“i won’t drop it. jay stop lying and tell me the reason you don’t want to perform in front of me”

“fine! it’s because i like you!” he then said without thinking and he immediately regretted it.

your eyes widened. you knew he meant it as in more than a friend and your heart began to beat faster.

“oh god, what did i just do..that was supposed to be a secret and i was never supposed to tell you” he said to himself im disbelief as he pulled his rod in and placed it on the floor.

“you like me? how long have you liked me for?” you asked him before gulping, realising that you also had feeling for him too.

“it’s getting late, we should really get going. i have a schedule tomorrow” jay completely ignored your questions as he stood up and began to pack his stuff up.

this frustrated you.

“jay!” you raised your voice to show him that you were serious an he paused finally turning his attention to you.

“how long have you liked me for?” you asked again and jay sighed slightly.

“basically ever since we became friends in middle school but it became a really serious crush once i debuted” he admitted and you almost audibly gasped.

he had liked you for that long?

“but i know you don’t like me like that so it was supposed to be a secret…but then when you kept asking me why i can’t perform in front of you it just slipped out. y/n i like you to the point i get nervous to even perform in front of you. im sorry for even liking you like that” he then said.

“why are you apologising?” you chuckled trying to make yourself and him less nervous by attempting to ease the tension.

you then stood up to stand in front of him, a smile on your face.

“i like you too jay and that’s no secret”

#enhypen x y/n #enhypen x reader #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen fic #enhypen jay #park jay #park jongseong #jay imagines #jay x reader #jongseong x reader #jongseong imagines #kpop x reader #kpop imagines

31 notes · View notes

binunus · 3 years

Text

afk | yoon sanha (m)

a/n y..oon...sanha...really do be acting up...also idk why but whenever I think of husband!sanha I can’t seem to write anything which is why I’ve been staring at this request literally for the longest time, but when I think of like just bf!sanha I get so many ideas...is it me? am I just weird?? maybe it’s bc I’m literally not in a headspace to think about marriage or commitment sksksk but uh yeah thank you for coming to my ted talk

{request: anther sanha husband smut please? 🥺 the one u wrote was so good ‘m not a creative person so the plot coulld be as you wish 😼}

→ pairing: idol bf!sanha x f!reader

→ genre: fluff, smut

→ tw: unprotected sex (conceal before you feel loves), reader riding sanha as he’s playing his game oops...and 00 line is on the other end hehe, dirty talk?? well...sanha tried okay, multiple orgasms, slight overstimulation, embarrassment

→ word count: 4k _____________________________________________

*afk → away from keyboard* for all my non-gamers :) I’m not a gamer, I just live with them...

Your POV

You were ecstatic, a little jump in your step as you neared your boyfriend’s dorm. You haven’t seen him in almost a month due to his busy schedule and comeback preparations. You were excited for him and his group, one of the perks of dating an idol member was knowing the secrets and spoilers of his plans long before they were revealed to the public. But with those perks also came the disadvantages of not being able to see your boyfriend as much as you’d like to, or even be open with your relationship in general.

Anyway, you were excited to see him. The text messages, phone calls, and FaceTimes could only satisfy you for so long, seeing Sanha in person was a completely different story. The last time you saw him was before he dyed his hair from black to the sleek dark red that it was now.

As soon as you received the text from your boyfriend asking if you were free to come over, you literally dropped everything that you were doing and got dressed to leave your apartment. You arrived at his dorm within thirty minutes, not wasting any precious time that you could be spending with him.

You were warmly greeted by their eldest, Myungjun’s excited tone alerting the others about your appearance. “y/n! We haven’t seen you in so long!”

You laughed and wrapped your arms around him in a hug, giggling as he lifted your body and shook you around, “I know, oppa! It’s so good to see you! You look so good! I’m excited for your album to come out.”

“Oh you cutie, stop it.” He beamed, patting your head as he set you down. “Sanha’s playing games in his room right now. If you get bored of him, just come find me and I’ll entertain you.”

“Will do oppa,” You chuckled as you bounced in the direction of Sanha’s bedroom. Your heart rapidly beating in your chest as you opened the door, revealing your 6′1 sweet boyfriend who was sitting intently on his gaming chair. You felt the oxygen knocked away from your lungs as he turned his maroon head of hair to face you. You almost had to do a double take from actually seeing his new hair color in person. Sure he’s sent you a bunch of pictures as soon as he dyed it and you’ve seen it through video calls, but wow...was this good looking man really your boyfriend?

He held his hand out to you, smiling as you approached him. He moved the mic away from his mouth before kissing the back of your hand, “Hey baby, I’m just playing a match real quick and then I’m all yours, okay?”

You nodded excitedly and leaned in to press a kiss on the cheek which wasn’t being covered by his headset. Sanha squeezed your hand affectionately before you hopped on his bed, pulling out your phone to pass the time while you waited for him to finish his match. Every now and then, you would look over to observe him and his game. You noticed that even his gaming setup has changed in the past month you haven’t seen each other, he was finally using the light-up keyboard you gifted him for your one year anniversary.

You could vaguely hear his friends through the headset, chuckling at his conversations with the esteemed ‘00 line. You found yourself grinning as Sanha furiously clicked away at the keyboard, even though your boyfriend is a famous idol, at the end of the day he was still just a regular young adult at heart who loved playing games.

You understood that this was probably one of his only ways of de-stressing as of recent, so you were pretty lenient about his gaming habits...

Until one match turned into two, which turned into three, and before you knew it, you’ve been waiting on his bed -- affection-starved -- for almost two hours.

Your lips pursed in annoyance, huffing as you locked your phone and tossed it aside somewhere on his bed, standing to get some water. Sanha turned his head at your movement, his mouth opening a bit in shock as he watched you leave his room. At that moment, he knew your patience was running thin.

You saw Jinwoo and Bin in the kitchen, the two smiling as you joined them. You found yourself pouting as you waddled into Jinwoo’s arms which opened in a welcoming hug. With dating Sanha, you also had the opportunity of getting to know his group, gaining five older brothers who treated you like one of their own. You got babied by the five of them a lot since you were dating their baby.

You let out a sigh as you retrieved a glass of water, resting your head on Jinwoo’s shoulder as you took small sips. You’ve received more affection from the rest of Astro than you have from your own boyfriend during this whole visit so far. Bin cooed as he pinched your cheek, “Why do you look so upset?”

You rolled your eyes as you took another sip, “Sanha’s been playing his game for the past 2 hours, I don’t even know why he asked me to come over if he wasn’t at least going to talk to me.”

Jinwoo gave you a sympathetic smile, patting your head as he nodded, “You know how he is y/n. When he doesn’t have a schedule or practice, he’s practically glued to his computer chair.”

You groaned and finished the rest of your water, placing the glass in the sink before you rested your hands on your hips, “If he doesn’t stop playing after this match, I’m literally leaving.”

The two elder boys laughed, respectively patting your shoulder and rubbing your back. Bin chuckled, “You do what you have to do. You know, scold him for us too. His eyes are gonna go bad from looking at that monitor too much.”

You nodded, asking them to wish you luck as you went back into Sanha’s room. When you opened the door, you noticed his chair turned around so that his back was to the desk, the monitor on the loading screen, and Sanha on his phone. He looked up with that big puppy expression on his face when he knew he’s did something wrong. He quickly placed his phone on the desk, pulling you in towards him as soon as you were in arm’s reach. He gently squeezed your hands as you stood in between his legs, resting your weight on one foot. “I’m sorry, baby.”

You narrowed your eyes in the slightest, “And what are you sorry for?”

“For ignoring you and just playing my game...” Sanha said quietly hugging your waist. He nuzzled his face against your stomach as your hands went up to play with his hair, all annoyance fizzling away in an instant. Damn, he was too cute for you to stay mad at him. You sighed and kissed the crown of his head, “Sanha, we haven’t seen in each other in so long because of your comeback. If you want to invite me over, I sort of hope that we’re spending time together and I’m not just watching you play...is your game really that much more interesting than me?”

He shook his head against your body, his voice muffled as he immediately said no. The tiniest of smiles crept its way onto your face, endeared at how cute your boyfriend was.

And then you heard his best friend through the headset, ruining the soft mood in an instant. “Sanha load up, c’mon where are you?”

You let out a sigh, God dammit Bomin.

Sanha lifted his head to meet your eyes, he sensed your frustration again immediately. You pursed your lips, reading the conflict swimming through his pupils. You knew that he wanted to keep playing, but he didn’t wanna make you mad. And in Sanha’s perspective, he did honestly plan to spend time with you when he invited you over, but then Daehwi asked him to play a round and when he gets immersed in his game, he needs to play until he’s literally sick of it for the day. “Baby..?”

You averted your gaze for a moment in thought, an idea popping into your head. Humming, your fingers twirled a strand of his hair, “You can keep playing, baby.”

Sanha blinked at you in surprise, his eyes widening, “Really? You won’t get mad if--”

“But! I’m sitting on your lap. I haven’t gotten any cuddles from you in at least three weeks and I’m not going back to your bed without you.”

He nodded eagerly, satisfied with the win-win situation. Sanha grinned patting his lap as he spread his legs to give you room. You chuckled, maneuvering your body through the space of his chair as you got seated atop his thighs, both of you face to face. By habit, Sanha’s hands rested at your waist, smiling as he pulled you into a sweet kiss. You felt the butterflies flutter in your stomach at the action, responding instantly. Your lips formed a little pout when he pulled away, your boyfriend smiling cheekily as he nuzzled his nose against yours, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” You said before resting your head on his shoulder, leaning your body weight on his chest as a means to get as close to him as you possibly could. Sanha rubbed the skin of your waist affectionately before reaching for the headset and unmuting himself, “Bomin, I’m here.”

“Hey! What took you so long?”

“Chill, y/n’s here.” He said, glancing at you with a smile, “She can hear you by the way.”

“Yeah so watch your mouth, Bomin.” You said jokingly, turning your head briefly to speak into the microphone. Sanha grinned, pressing a kiss to your cheek as Bomin laughed through the headset. You heard Bomin -- along with Sanha’s other friends -- greet you, chuckling as your head returned to its spot on Sanha’s shoulder.

You let your boyfriend play one match peacefully, still enjoying finally being in his embrace. You closed your eyes, taking in the comforting scent of Sanha’s detergent and let yourself relax for a short while. When he got killed during the first match, his arms immediately wrapped around your waist, squeezing your body tightly as he kissed your temple. You hummed, listening as he watched and conversed with the others who were still alive.

It was then that you noticed the slight new definition of his muscles, the gears in your brain turning as you thought about how to proceed with your plan. Although you were literally on top of him right now, the majority of Sanha’s attention span was focused on his monitor, so you knew he couldn’t sense the growing arousal in your mind.

Early into his second match, you subtly shifted your ass around on his lap, making it seem like you were trying to readjust into a more comfortable position. At the same time, you moved your head to his other shoulder, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you did so. Your boyfriend smiled at you, still oblivious to what you were trying to do.

And then your hands gently started rubbing at his sides, the touch featherlike as you began to press kisses in the crook of his neck. You felt Sanha tense in the slightest as he quickly pressed the mute button on his mic, “Baby...what are you doing?”

“Hm?” You asked not even bothering to lift your head, “I’m kissing you, can I not?”

The male closed his eyes as he let out a muffled groan, his body reacting immediately to your ministrations, “y/n, are you trying to make me moan into the mic while I’m playing with the guys?”

You chuckled dryly as you started to start to suck on his skin, not hard enough to leave a mark because you knew his stylists would literally kill you if you did, but enough for him to get affected. And he did.

Sanha let out a breathy moan, subconsciously tilting his head so that you had more access.

“You ignored me for two hours baby. Since you wanna keep playing your game while I’m here, you’re gonna have to do so while I’m making you feel good. Now unmute and keep doing your thing.”

He bit his lip, narrowing his eyes at you as you moved your ass directly over his crotch, which was quickly getting hard. He was about to say something, but was cut off by Daehwi asking him where he was, Sanha cursing internally as he pressed unmute and responded. You smirked against his skin, still trailing kisses along his neck and intending to move up his jawline -- which had definitely gotten sharper since the last time you saw him.

Sanha tried his best, you could see how hard he was fighting against your temptations. Admittedly, you were a bit impressed with how well he was masking what was going on to his friends.

But you were a brat and you wanted to see your boyfriend’s self-restraint crumble. He managed to get through one match, trying to compromise with you once the display showed the loading screen, “Fuck, baby, I’m done. I can’t play anymore.”

You smiled at him as you got off his lap, going over to lock his door. Sanha sighed in relief, getting ready to tell his friends that he was logging off for the night, until you held your finger up at him, confusion on his features. Casually, you pulled down your pants and underwear, placing them to the side as you leaned down for a kiss. Your hands reached for the waistband of his sweats, Sanha lifting up his hips to help you pull the fabric down his legs.

“You’re gonna play one more game, baby.” You whispered against his mouth, the boy sighing in frustration as you climbed back onto his lap. His cock was already hard from all your grinding, he could not believe you were teasing him like this right now.

You were soaked, you knew that Sanha would slide right in without any resistance. You let out a sharp inhale as you lined yourself up with his cock, burying your face in his shoulder as you sat down in one go. The two of you let out a synchronized groan at the feeling, it had been too long since you last had sex. “Shit, y/n, you’re so fucking tight--I-fuck can’t we just take this to my bed?”

“No,” You said, voice shaky as you tried to calm yourself down from the initial intrusion. “This is payback for making me wait so long.”

Sanha’s hands gripped the meat of your ass, squeezing as he thrusted into you just once, “God, you do realize we’re both gonna suffer if you make me play another round.”

“You’re going to suffer more than I am,” You said devilishly as you unmuted his mic, “Sorry boys, Sanha went to the bathroom but he’s back now.”

He shot you glare, reluctantly removing his hands from your ass as he wore his headset again, “Guys, I think this is gonna be my last game, I’m getting pretty tired.”

“You know, I can’t believe y/n really just let you play with us this whole time. That’s love right there.”

“You’re a real one, y/n!”

“Sanha doesn’t deserve you, y/n!”

You laughed into the mic, sweetly responding to Sanha’s friends as you clenched your walls around his cock, watching with a lustful glint in your eyes at the contortion of pleasure on his face, his teeth harshly dug into his bottom lip to prevent any sounds from escaping.

“C’mon, start game.” Sanha said shortly, the grip on his mouse tightening as you clenched again. You stayed still for the first couple of minutes, letting Sanha adjust and play his game so that his friends wouldn’t be able to tell that something explicit was happening on his side of the screen.

Of course all Sanha could think about right now was the way your walls just sucked him in so nicely, wanting nothing more than to pin you to his bed and fuck into you with no restraints. But he knew that you wouldn’t let him do that until he finished his match, so he tried to focus on completing this game as fast as he could.

He felt himself freezing as you started to kiss his neck again, mentally telling himself to stay calm and not make a noise. As soon as his guard was down, you lifted your hips so that only the head of his cock was in your cunt before slamming your ass down on his lap, a loud slap sounding from the contact of your skins. Sanha lurched forward, a strangled moan fighting in his throat as you tightly clenched your walls, squeezing his cock.

“Woah-are you okay, Sanha? What happened?”

“Y-yeah, I hit my knee against the d-desk,” He stuttered a lie, one of his hands gripping your waist as you started to slowly fuck yourself on him. It was getting harder for you to conceal your moans, burying your face in his shoulder as you tried to chase your high, this position allowing Sanha to hit so deep in your cunt.

His eyes flickered back and forth between the screen and you riding his cock, his legs subconsciously spreading as far as the chair allowed him. Sanha knew it was over for him when you lifted yourself off his chest, your eyes blown wide with lust as one of your hands fisted the bottom of his shirt, the other sneaking down to where the two of you were connected, making contact with your clit. You threw your head back at the added sensation, your mouth opening in a silent moan as you clenched your walls again.

“Sanha, where are you? Why are you standing still--”

“Fuck--AFK guys, AFK!” Sanha said hurriedly, throwing his headset off as he muted his mic. He pulled you in for a searing kiss, moving his lips fiercely against yours as you grabbed at his shoulders. “You’re fucking evil.”

“That’s what you get for not paying attention to me,” You panted against his mouth, sluggishly getting off his lap. Sanha practically kicked his gaming chair back as he towered over you, removing both of your shirts before he pushed you down on his bed. He pulled your thighs open, positioning his cock at your entrance. “Fuck, do you know how hard it was to not fuck you while I was playing?”

You whined as he moved his tip up and down your slit, tapping the head at your sensitive bud. “Now you have all my attention, baby.”

The two of you moaned loudly as he sheathed himself in your cunt, momentarily forgetting that there were five other inhabitants of his dorm. Sanha started a brutal pace from the beginning, thrusting into you with no restraints. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair as you pulled him down for a kiss, muffling your moans against his mouth.

“Mmmf, Sanha--”

He groaned, biting your bottom lip before lifting your thighs so that your legs hung from his shoulder, allowing him to penetrate even deeper in your cunt, “Shit, I missed your pussy baby. You’re fucking dripping on my sheets, God.”

His hands flew to your chest, roughly groping your breasts as he used it for leverage to fuck into you at a faster pace. The sounds in his room were obscene, the squelch of your arousal and the smack of his balls hitting your ass drowning out anything else.

Sanha felt like he was drunk on your cunt, breathing heavily as he tried to get more sounds out of you, your moans music to his ears. He hissed as your nails clawed at his arms, a telltale sign that you were nearing your end. “S-Sanha, I-fuck!”

“Are you close, baby?” He asked authoritatively, his heart swelling as you nodded with a whine, your hands scrambling to feel every inch of his skin. You keened as he called your name, commanding you to look at him as you reached your orgasm.

The tension in your stomach snapped when he snuck a hand down to play at your clit, rubbing it between two of his fingers as he tweaked your nipple, fucking you through your high. Your toes curled in pleasure, legs convulsing as you let out a high-pitched moan. You tried your best to maintain eye contact, but the dizzying euphoria made your lids flutter close, Sanha harshly sucking hickeys in your neck as he too, chased, his high.

He cursed, still drawing circles on your clit as he rutted his hips into yours. You screamed as you were forced into another orgasm, your tight pulsating walls around his cock enough to push him to the edge. Sanha groaned gravelly, his nails digging into your waist as he released his load in your cunt.

Sanha pulled out when he felt his cock fully flaccid, sitting back against his palms as he watched both of your cum leak out your entrance. Your chest heaved up and down as you tried to regain your breath, meeting his eyes from where you laid. Sanha chuckled, kissing your knee before standing to get some tissues, coming back to carefully wipe your cunt clean.

You reached your arms out for him to lay down next to you as soon as he threw the soiled tissue away. He smiled lovingly, joining you on the bed and wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

“Are you upset with me?” He asked cutely, pecking your nose. You grinned and buried your face in his chest, kissing the space between his collarbones. “No, you’re here with me now.”

Sanha giggled, stroking your hair as he tapped his fingers at the small of your back, “’M sorry for ignoring you, baby. I love you.”

“I love you too,” You said, humming as you closed your eyes, sleep slowly overtaking you. He tutted, removing his arms from your body as he sat up, “No! y/n, you have to pee first before you sleep.”

“But I’m tired,” You whined, reaching for him again. Sanha shook his head, gently pulling you up, “Baby, if you get a UTI, you’re gonna hate yourself. Now c’mon, peeing only takes a couple seconds.”

You grumbled as he found one of his oversized t-shirts, dressing you before finding a pair of shorts for himself. You let out a woah as you stood, holding onto Sanha for support as your legs started to wobble. Your boyfriend chuckled smugly, squeezing your waist as you regained your balance, “You good, baby?”

“Shut up.”

The two of you glanced at his computer, which was now at the main screen of the game. “Do you think they heard, baby?”

“No way,” Sanha said, though he couldn’t deny the slight fear in the pit of his stomach if his friends really did hear you and him having sex. “I muted myself...right?”

You shrugged, not really minding before going to open the door, leading the two of you out of his room. Your face flushed, your feet stopping dead in their tracks as you came face to face with the rest of Astro, all five of them giving you and your boyfriend knowing looks as they sat dispersed around the living room.

“Ah hyungs!”

“I really hope you two used protection,” Eunwoo lectured, though you saw the smirk on his face.

“I’m--bathroom--peeing...yeah.” You said embarrassed, scurrying off to the direction of their bathroom, yelping as your legs almost gave in.

“Woah, careful y/n,” Rocky snickered sending a wink in Sanha’s direction. The boys began teasing their youngest as soon as you closed the door to the bathroom, Sanha hiding his face in his hands, “Are you really going to do this every time y/n comes over?? It’s been more than a year!”

“No, we only do it when you two kids are loud as hell.” Bin said bluntly, slapping Myungjun’s arm in amusement. Jinwoo chuckled, lightly pointing a finger at your boyfriend, “You better have this much energy during promotions, Sanha--”

“Hyung!” ______________________________

4-6-21

#woah where did this come from?#im also just obsessed with sanha's part in one and that mayhaps was the inspiration #and also gamer tingz #sanha #yoon sanha #astro #astro smut #astro fluff #astro au #astro scenarios #sanha smut #sanha fluff #sanha au #sanha scenarios #request

320 notes · View notes

onewithnomightypowers · 3 years

Text

Old Habits

pairing: Tom Holland x fem!reader

summary: Old habits come back when you meet an ex lover after a long time. Conversations feel like you never stopped talking to them. Sometimes you have to see them one last time to say goodbye like you mean it but most of the time it doesn’t go as planned.

warning: drinking

words: 2.1k

a/n: could be read as part 2 of last kiss but is a stand alone. got a bit poetic at the end. hope you guys like it. and as always, love reading your opinions/reactions. also asks are open. (gif not mine)

masterlist

'@tomholland2013 posted a story'

She picked up her phone to open Instagram. Yes, Y/N still had notifications on for his account even after they were broken up for months. Classic Tom.

He posted two of the same picture on his story. No one understood how that would happen almost every time, not even the people working at Instagram to whom they contacted about the glitch.

Tom had his hair slicked back, standing in a white t-shirt next to Harry, his brother, giving a million-dollar smile. They were holding a clapperboard together. There was text on the picture too, 'day 1 let's go!!' She smiled to herself. Just because they weren't together doesn't mean that she wasn't allowed to feel happy for his achievements. Even though she wishes to know all these big things from Tom himself she is, unfortunately, left here, watching a small part of his life flash in front of her for less than thirty seconds.

"Are you listening?" Hope, Y/N's date said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. You were saying?" Y/N placed the phone back where it was resting, next to the cold wine bottle.

"You seem distant," they said.

When she 'met' Hope (she only really met them 30 minutes ago), Y/N wasn't looking for love, just sex, and that is what online dating specializes in. She hoped Hope knew what they were signing up for, sexual intimacy and nothing else.

"It doesn't matter does, does it? We both know what we are here for. Why not just cut the chase," Y/N replied.

It was early in the morning, the sun had yet to shine in its full glory. Y/N could only think of the first time she stayed over at Tom's old apartment but then she turned her head only to find Hope's naked body next to her. Her heartbeat accelerated with the realization that he was not hers anymore. Being in a foreign environment didn't help her growing anxiety, twisting and turning her intestines.

It's been four months, her feelings for Tom refuse to quit on her because she knows she could never quit on them, on him, even if he has. He probably has already found someone else in Canada, she thought. She didn't want him anymore but she still needed him, one last time just to teach her stupid heart how to say goodbye.

Y/N wore her clothes and picked up her shoes, going on a trail to find Hope's door to get out before they wake up. Climbing down the stairs, she took out her phone from the back pocket of her jeans.

'5 new messages from Sam' 7 hours ago

Sam: hey

Sam: ik it's late

Sam: I am going for a run tmr morning @6

Sam: do you wanna come?

Sam: will go to the new coffee house near my house after that

Y/N texted him back

Y/N: I'll meet you at the coffee place

Sam: come fast. already here

Sam and Y/N were standing in the queue to place their orders. “You look especially shitty today,” Sam said, running his right hand through his sweaty hair.

“I haven’t been home yet,” Y/N reasoned her appearance.

His mouth formed an ‘o’ shape. The person in front of them left the queue, they moved towards the counter. “One hazelnut latte, double shot with skimmed milk,” Y/N gave her order.

“And you?” the cashier’s question directed to Sam.

“I’ll have a matcha latte with oat milk”

Sam turned to Y/N, “Harrison got me on matcha, and now I can’t go back to coffee”

They paid their dues and moved over to the barista counter to collect their order.

“So, what were you doing last night?” Sam inquired.

“I was on a date, it isn't a big deal though. Just had some needs to take care of”

“Oh, was it any good?”

“It was fine. I was distracted the whole time. Saw Tom’s story about halfway into the bottle of merlot. Couldn’t stop thinking about him”

“Seems…sad. But you know Tom is coming back for the Christmas weekend, I think. He might attend Harrison’s Christmas eve party”

“One hazelnut latte and one matcha latte,” someone behind the counter screamed.

“That’s us,” Sam raised his voice.

Harrison had a bucket inside his house, under a sign that said 'drop your tracking devices here' with an arrow pointing to the bucket. Y/N dropped her phone on a pile of roughly fourteen others. Debating whether to see Tom's face was something she wanted or not made her late and not very fashionably.

The house was decorated with empty liquor bottles along with red and green streamers from one wall to another. Everyone was drunk in their best dress. There were no signs of Tom yet. Y/N took a deep breath, walking towards the kitchen to get herself some liquid courage to help her socialize.

The kitchen was rather scarcely populated. Empty glasses were lined up next to the sink. Are they clean or used? Bending down, Y/N opened the refrigerator to see if Harrison had any chilled wine. No luck. "Hey," a familiar voice was heard.

She looked up at the familiar stranger.

"Hey Tom," she smiled. The refrigerator light falling on Y/N made her blush visible.

She grabbed a half-cut lemon placed in the egg tray.

“How have you been?" Tom asked leaning back on the kitchen counter, observing her movements.

Y/N walked towards the sink to grab herself a crystal glass hoping for it to be clean. "Just busy with work these days"

"I heard you got a job at Condé Nast, is that true?" he took a sip from his beer.

"Well, you heard right. You are looking at their new senior brand manager for digital", she said proudly.

Tom hugged her from the side she was holding a knife to cut the lemon for her gin and tonic. "That's great darling! You always wanted to work there"

Darling. The butterflies in her stomach were fluttering like the first time she met Tom.

"I saw your story the other day. You started filming your script, right?" she dropped the lemon in the glass.

"Yup, it was a long time coming," he grabbed the knife she was using and washed it without even knowing. He was so used to Y/N never washing utensils after using them and, he would always have to clean up after her.

"Congrats on that babe!" The word 'babe' just slipped out of practice.

Y/N grabbed a Bombay Sapphire standing still on the marble slab. The blue of the bottle shinning even in the dim-lit room.

"I missed you," Y/N made eye contact, screwing the cap back on. A long, silent pause.

I miss you too, so very much

She cleared her throat, "so, how long are you staying?"

"Going back Monday morning"

She opened a can of tonic water.

"Are you seeing someone?" Tom asked.

"Wouldn't you wanna know" a smirk on her face grew. "I've been out on few dates, nothing serious. What about you?"

"Met this girl online, dated for a bit but, she wanted something I couldn't give to her"

Y/N scoffed, "did she have a foot fetish or something?"

"No, Y/N. She wanted love, not my feet" they both laughed.

"On that topic..." Tom calmed himself, "...I was listening to this song a few weeks ago and, there was this line, 'the smell of your hair reminds me of her feet' and it made me think of you"

"I reckon," she took a sip of her gin and tonic.

"No, seriously, I really related to that line. No matter how many people I hook up with, it will be hard to find the type of intimacy I shared with you. I still relate to it"

"I hate going on walks alone and having faceless dreams," Y/N blurted, lacking a proper reaction.

"You're still the face of all my fantasies," Tom confessed.

None of them knew what to say next. Anything they thought of saying now included walking over the blurry line of exes to lovers.

"You look pretty"

"Classic me, had a glow up after getting my heartbroken"

"You always looked this pretty. You are beautiful," Tom assured her. The 'heartbroken part did not sit well with him. He already felt guilty for taking a job across the pond which was a great opportunity for him to grow but was only possible by severing his ties with Y/N.

It had just started snowing on Boxing Day. Tom was alone in his cold home, boiling a pot of ramen noodles. He took out his phone and snapped a picture of the burning stove with the pot on top.

Tom: *attached photo*

Tom: I come back after months and my family leaves me alone with no food

Y/N: you should add a poached egg

Tom: Thanks. I shall.

Tom: I think I made too much ramen for me

Tom: do you wanna come over and share?

Her indecision was visible by the coming and going of the gray dots. Then finally, Tom could tame his anxiety by her simple reply.

Y/N: sure.

There was a loud knock on the door. Tom put two bowls of hot ramen on the dining table and went to open the door. Behind the door, Y/N was standing with her hands inside her brown checker coat. There was dust of snow sitting on her shoulders. Her braided hair was made by the most anxious hands in town.

The door opened and, Tom’s hands flew to take Y/N in his arms. They hugged like little kids hug their parents after being away from each other, for them, an eternity. It did feel like an eternity to them too but, they hadn’t forgotten each other’s touch.

“I parked my car at the church, couldn’t find any spot here ‘cause of the snow," she pulled out.

“The snow seems to be gaining momentum.”

Y/N hummed in agreement. She took off her coat and hung it in the Holland’s coat closet.

“Come on, the ramen is getting cold,” she followed tom into the kitchen.

They sat adjacent on the wooden table in comfortable silence. Tom used chopsticks and, Y/N used a fork. Only the occasional noodles falling in the broth were heard, along with the gushing of wind.

“It’s really spicy for me,” Tom said.

“Yeah, I can see your ears turning red.”

She still remembers

Y/N raised her hand to cover her mouth while yawning.

“Since you made the food, I’ll do the dishes,” she got up, grabbed their bowls, and walked over to the sink.

Wearing the gloves, she turned to Tom, “it was quite tasty”.

Tom gave her a smile.

She spread the soap on the dishes and turned the tap on. Tom pushed his chair back to get up.

“Have you made any friends at your new job,” he jumped and sat on the counter next to Y/N.

“Yeah, sort of. Kyara works there too so, I have just made her friends my friends,” she washed his chopsticks.

“That’s good. Have you talked to Emily after the wedding? She told me they are planning on adopting.”

“They invited me over for dinner when they got the approval from the agency. Kyara made this amazing Hyderabadi biryani, it was her mum’s recipe so, it was obviously better than the restaurant”

“God! You and your love for Indian food”

Y/N removed her gloves, “I should go. Thanks for the ramen, by the way”

“Are you sure you can go out in this weather?”

“Yeah I think," she started walking out of the kitchen.

Tom grabbed her hand. “Stay”, his voice was like cotton.

Y/N turned and made contact with his pleading eyes. She moved closer to him. “Please”, he said. They both were inching in to lock their desperate lips.

Y/N did not notice when she had fallen asleep talking to Tom. Their naked bodies were covered by the white comforter. Her eyes slowly opened to a boy with brown eyes and messy hair looking at her.

“I like it when you sleep. I love watching you sleep”

She chuckled. “That’s a bit creepy, don’t you think?” She had a sleepy voice.

“You look so serene, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I could stare at you for eons”

“But love, I'm only here till the snow settles,” she caressed his cheeks.

“Then the cold shall frost our limbs," he leaned in to kiss her.

tags: @elios-timotea

#tom holland #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #spiderman #marvel fanfiction #marvel #spiderman x reader #spiderman x y/n #spider man #spiderman x you

122 notes · View notes

themotherofhorses · 3 years

Text

or else they better dig two | b.b.

summary: the man standing before you was not your husband. not in the slightest. However, he was sorry. so fucking sorry. his white eyes showed you that.

pairing: bucky barnes x wife!reader

warning(s): angst, major wounds, kinda zombie!bucky?, main character/variant death, the ol’ winter soldier but 10x worse. bucky’s variant is from earth-807128 and, lemme tell ya, it is absolutely brutal in that universe.

a/n: um, yea, well, decided to give this a try. it’s short but simple. inspired by The Band Perry’s “Better Dig Two”.

It had been almost two months since you last seen your husband. Five weeks since he went complete radio silent. And thirteen days since his identification marker disappeared off the grid.

You were quite concerned, to say the least.

A few times would Bucky not answer for days at a time. The longest was five weeks, but that was before he sent you a surprised "I'm coming home bby" text, and his tiny bright-red marker sparkled as he grew closer to both New York and you.

But his ID marker had never disappeared off the S.H.I.E.L.D intel atlas. Not once during his entire career as an Avenger/S.H.I.E.L.D agent. That’s why you knew something was wrong. Terribly wrong.

You could feel it, deep in your bones. It made you feel a little sick.

Nick Fury was instantly made aware of this situation. He spent ten minutes just staring at the screen before directing both Steve and Sam to pack up. They would be deployed to Bucky's last known location and do a thorough areal search. It could be several reasons why he isn't showing up anymore, Maria Hill murmured, From a possibly fatal wound to an enemy ambush.

"Don't worry," she said with a tight-lipped smile that did not reach her eyes, "We'll find him. Or, better yet, Steve will. Cap would not allow his best friend to vanish off the face of the earth again. You know that. I know that. Everyone in this compound knows it."

With nothing really left to do, you wished Steve and Sam a bit of good luck and assured them that you’d update with anything new that came up in the database. It would take them roughly eight hours to reach Belgrade. Time was ticking. You felt nauseous.

Three days later, you received a much-needed update that didn’t do anything to alleviate your fears. Bucky's S.H.I.E.L.D-issued backpack was dug up near a desolate cabin within the Molin Forest. Scrapes of dark blood splattered the cabin's flooring, along with the most overpowering and appalling smell. It smells like a...like a dead body, Sam stated, covering his nose. Beside him, Steve dropped his head.

Tony left the room and Natasha threw her arms around you, holding you close as you wailed. Fury gave them the choice: come back home or search for the body.

They chose the latter. But they could not locate the remains of your husband. of your Bucky.

You felt nauseous again.

It had been almost three weeks since then. Condolences begin to pile in. “I am so sorry…It must be so devastating to lose your husband…To be a widow this young…If there is anything I can do….”

Then, the U.S. Army reached out, requesting if you wish for your husband to be buried in Arlington.

“He’ll be laid to rest alongside other members of the WWII Howling Commando Unit. There will be a plot next to him, reserved for you as his wife, of course.”

It was almost too much to take.

You want to scream and shout and cry because your husband is not dead, dammit.

To take your mind off of the most… recent issues, you decide to tuck yourself away inside your bedroom and reorganize the closet. On the left side, your clothing. On the right, Bucky's. You color-coordinated his Henley's and straightened up his boots, wondering if you should polish them as well.

No. Bucky prefers for his boots to be scuffed up. He likes to see the tiny scratches when the sunlight hits them. They’re like ‘little badges’ as he jokingly says.

You leave them alone and move on to the next.

As you're folding away shirts into the dresser, you hear a slight stumble outside. It sounds like someone almost tripped. You immediately stop what you're doing and listen. The footsteps are heavy against the hardwood. You could recognize them from a mile away.

"Bucky!" You shriek, feeling like crying from utter relief as you run towards him. "For the gods' sake, Bucky! You fucking terrified me! Where were you-" You suddenly stop in your steps, eyes widening in horror.

“Bucky?”

It's Bucky. But it's... it's not your Bucky.

Your hands are quick in an attempt to trap the ghastly scream that escapes your mouth. Somewhere, in the background, you can hardly make out FRIDAY asking if you require immediate emergency assistance.

It won't help, you think. It won't do jack shit.

Because Bucky is standing before you, 6′ft or so in the Winter Soldier suit.

Thick, ebony leather from neck to toe, with numerous weaponry and devices strapped to his waist. One thigh holds a pistol, his back carries another. His old metal arm, the one with the red star, hums with electricity. Over his mouth is the same black muzzle, which hides away the majority of his face. It leaves just his eyes to be seen, a pale white that is practically blinding.

“Bucky...”

A fat tear drips down your cheek as you take notice of the pitchfork buried deep in his chest. It's still fresh, blood trickling onto the floor. It matches the dried red along his scalp.

Yet, despite all his injuries and everything, Bucky stands motionless, every so often a twitch in his shoulders.

"Bucky...Oh, gods, what did they do to you, baby?"

He blinks, once, twice, four times. You stand, hushed, as you await his next move. Then, the skin between his brows creases, and he mumbles something. It's muffled, it's weak, yet you can hear it perfectly.

It's your name.

"Kill me. Kill me. Kill me..."

"Do it. Do it. Do it…"

"Please. Please. Please..."

You cannot move, nor can you think. Instead, you feel that familiar urge to suddenly vomit. When he sees that you haven’t done anything, he recites his pleas, each one a massive stab at your heart.

"Kill me. Kill me. Kill me..."

"Do it. Do it. Do it…"

"Please. Please. Please..."

You take a deep breath, biting back a large sob. In the back, amongst the walls, FRIDAY lets you know that Steve, Sam, Natasha, and Clint are rushing their way up to your floor.

“Do not worry, Mrs. Barnes. An on-site emergency medical team is on its way. ETA five minutes.”

But you know that any attempts would all be in vain.

There is no saving this Bucky, whoever he may be with these white eyes. You hope Steve will understand when he enters and sees the aftermath. Maybe he will if he realizes that this Bucky wasn’t yours, you tell yourself as you reach for the gun at your side.

And this would’ve been your last choice in any scenario given.

"I’m so sorry but I won’t have you endure this any longer. I’m better than that. I know it’s painful. Don’t worry, though, I will avenge you. Steve will avenge you. We‘ll all avenge you.” You raise your gun, finger heavy on the trigger.

He makes a deep drawl that kind of resembles a Steeevvvieee?

You nod, blinking back tears, “If we meet again, I beg you, please forgive me...”

A second later, Bucky collapses to the ground, forehead wet with new blood.

“Th...Thankkk...Yooouu...”

You have to remind yourself that this wasn’t your Bucky. Your Bucky isn’t dead on the floor with a bullet in his brain and a pitchfork in his chest. He’s gonna come back, you repeat, rocking yourself back and forth as you eye all the blood pooling around the body.

That wasn’t him.

It was not.

He’s gonna come home.

Or else they better dig two.

#marvel cinematic universe #the avengers #avengers imagine #mcu bucky barnes #bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #marvel’s what if #the winter soldier #the winter soldier x reader

57 notes · View notes

arvinsescape · 3 years

Text

Peter Parker’s Pianist.

A/N: So this is my first Peter Parker one shot that is not a request, it has literally taken me hours to complete! But I hope you all enjoy and let me know what you think, I accept constructive criticism. This does not reflect any particular version of MJ, I love her as a fictional character!

Summary: Peter Parker is completely in love with his elegant piano player.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex and suggestive content. Mentions of guns, maybe a few typos and I think that’s it.

W/C: 5.5K

Peter had first met Y/N when he was scoping out a building that was apparently going to be robbed, he had been hiding out on the roof when he had first heard her play. It was a tune he was familiar with but couldn’t name, one of those beautiful classical pieces, he couldn’t help but sit on top of the roof as the music drifted out of the window.

Peter sat on the rooftop waiting for the mayhem to start, he’d been tipped off by the police that there was to be a burglary that night, some old music hall that still had a lot of valuable instruments in it. It wasn’t abandoned per se, it just wasn’t used very often. Peter had received the call a few hours prior, the police didn’t have the funding to deal with the incident and who better to help than the friendly neighbourhood Spiderman?

He became almost lost in the way the music was being played, it had his complete attention and he wondered if that was why he’d missed the group of men entering the building. He’d been told no one should be in it but clearly someone was, and they were pulling him into a trance he had to shake himself out of as he heard a crash from one of the lower levels. Shit, he thought to himself.

Whoever it was that was playing the piano so beautifully clearly hadn’t heard the commotion from the lower level and Peter felt a sense of protectiveness wash over him, whoever it was, he needed to get out of that building before he even considered approaching the men that were currently ransacking the place.

It would appear he wasn’t the only person that had heard the music and was in a desperate rush to get to them because as soon as he swung through the window to help whoever it was that was in there, four men burst through the door on the opposite side. That’s when the music stopped and she looked up from her sheet music, their eyes caught for a brief second before Peter sprang into action.

One of the men had aimed his pistol right at her and Peter fell into a panic as he aimed a web straight for it and pulled it from the man’s grasp. It all happened at once as she moved from her seat and Peter shot out a web to pull the woman towards him, a slight scream leaving her lips as her chest connected with his. It was like electricity started coursing through his veins, his senses running wilder than they ever had before.

He pulled her out of the way as he flipped a table, encouraging her to hide behind it as shots went off throughout the room. He watched as she pulled her knees to her chest and placed her hands over her ears, the fear in her eyes was prominent as she looked wildly at him, almost begging for him to help and he’d never in his life felt more of an urge to help someone.

“Hey, it’s okay.” Peter found himself saying softly as her eyes locked onto his. “I’ll get you out of here I promise. I just need you to stay here until I’ve sorted these guys okay?” He watched as a tear slipped from her cheek and he couldn’t stop himself from taking her hands in his as he forced her to stay focused on him. “I promise I’m going to get you out of here.” He said and she nodded slightly as a bullet flew over the top of the table, smashing a window behind them, a small scream leaving her lips.

This part was easy for Peter, a few careful dodges here and there, a few well placed webs meant that within five minutes all four men were disarmed and strung up waiting for arrest. Now he just needed to make sure the woman got home safely. She did exactly as she was told, he found her in the same position he had left her in. She still looked frightened, he supposed to her she didn’t quite understand that the threat was dealt with, she was safe now.

“Come on, let’s get you home.” He said as he held a hand out, she took it, a vice like grip to her hold, she looked so frightened and he wished she didn’t, wished she knew he was here to protect her. He helped her stand, her legs shaking like leaves, she looked as if she might be in some sort of shock, maybe she was. She was quiet, only speaking when she was directing him towards her home. When they eventually arrived outside her house she was less tense than she’d been when they set off.

“Thank you.” She said quietly and Peter smiled but then realized she wouldn’t have been able to see that, so he spoke instead.

“Anytime, just promise me you won’t hang around those places on your own from now on.” He said and he hoped she’d listen; he didn’t want her to put herself in danger again and he relaxed as he watched her nod.

“I promise.” She reassured. “Again, thank you. I don’t know what would have happened if you weren’t there.”

“You’re welcome, but don’t think about that. You’re okay and that’s all that matters.” He said and she gave him the first smile he’d seen from her and christ if he wasn’t enamored before he certainly was now.

He’d found himself looking for her as he swung through the city, hoping to catch a glimpse of her again or hear that beautiful piano through the night, but it had been two weeks and no such luck. It wasn’t until he’d finished dealing with a robbery fifteen days after the encounter that he’d heard her again.

He was on his way home, telling the police where he’d left the men when he heard the sound of a piano coming from the music hall across the road, the music was faint but due to his advanced hearing he didn’t miss it like other ears may have done. He couldn’t help as he climbed the building, he wanted to know if it was her again.

When he got to the window he felt his heart race, there she was, playing another classical piece he’d heard before, he was yet again thrown into a trance as he watched her fingers elegantly glide across the keys. The concentration on her face as she read the music sheet in front of her. She looked so beautiful, and the music only matched her elegance and beauty. He found himself sitting and listening to her play until she’d finished.

He couldn’t help as he waited for her to leave, kept a safe distance as he made sure she got home safe. He wondered if it came across stalkerish, but he only wanted to make sure she got home safely, a guardian angel of sorts, he thought to himself.

This continued on for a good few weeks, he found himself seeking her out at her new place of practice after every patrol, they way she played calmed in, he was becoming completely infatuated with her. Every time he watched and heard her play his feelings for the woman grew. It wasn’t until a month later that he finally plucked up the courage to speak to her.

“You’re really good. The best I think I’ve ever heard.” He spoke as he entered the room through the window, her playing coming to a stop as she turned to look at him.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to finally speak.” She said and her voice was much steadier than the first night he’d met her. Her voice was soft but firm, more music to his ears. He wondered if he’d ever get over his breakup with MJ last year and here he was, looking at the woman in front of him and knowing that he had. Peter’s face flushed in embarrassment; did she think he was some kind of weird stalker?

“I um,” Peter said as he cleared his throat. “I didn’t know you’d realised.” He admitted honestly. She smiled back at him, one of the most beautiful he’d ever seen.

“Truth be told I’ve been hoping you’d finally say something.” She said, soft smile still gracing her lips.

“Sorry I just never wanted to interrupt your playing. It’s amazing.” He said as she gestured him to join her, he did, sitting next to her on the piano stool, the close proximity had his heart racing and his stomach doing flips. He felt like a teenager again, not the twenty-two-year-old he’d become.

“What do you want me to play?” She asked. “It’s the least I can do after you saved my life.” She continued.

“I don’t really know that many piano pieces.” He admitted shyly and she laughed, not in a mocking way.

“Any one you like, I’ll play.” She encouraged. “So long as I know it, or the sheet music is knocking around the room.” She added with a small laugh.

“Well, I like that moonlight sonata.” He shyly admitted, he felt out of his element, she probably thought he was ridiculous for suggesting such a well-known piece. She only smiled at him.

“I haven’t played that one in a while. I might be a little rusty.” She laughed as her fingers ran over the keys, he wanted to reach out and hold her hand, but held himself back as he listened to her play. She played it perfectly and so effortlessly, a calm washed over him that he’d never had before, it almost felt like it was just the two of them in the whole world. It felt as though a parade could waltz through the door and neither of them would notice, he liked the calm it brought.

“Y/N, by the way.” She spoke as she finished. “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting your name. Secret identity and all that.” She said with a small smile, and he found himself wanting to open up to her, tell her who he was but he didn’t.

This became a routine for the two. He’d sit with her as she played. ‘Moonlight sonata’ almost felt like their song, a song that was made for the two of them, it was one of his favourites she’d play. He fell in love with her at some point in the months they’d been doing this. She’d play for him, and he’d walk her home in return. He remembers when she found out who he was, his real name.

“I have really strong feelings for you.” He blurted out halfway through one of her pieces, her fingers suddenly stopped on the keys she looked at him, shock written all over her face.

“You what?” She asked, voice soft as ever, it held a hint of disbelief to it.

“I have really strong feeling for you.” He repeated. He didn’t want to tell her he was in love with her, didn’t want to scare her off. “I was wondering if you maybe wanted to go on a date?” He asked, hope laced his tone. “If you don’t feel the same, I understand.” He added quickly, he just needed to get his feelings off his chest.

“It’s not that I don’t feel the same, but I don’t know who you are under the mask. I can’t exactly go on a date with spiderman.” She said and his heart soared, she liked him back? “You’re the friendly neighbourhood spiderman and I’m just me.” She said and Peter hated it, hated that she couldn’t see how truly amazing she is.

“You know, under the mask, I’m just a regular guy.” He said.

“I imagine so, but I don’t know that guy.” She said with a sad smile.

“Do you want to?” He asked, he was never more sure of telling someone who he was in his life.

“Of course I do.” She answered honestly. He moved to remove his mask, he felt confident. She smiled again as he revealed himself to her, he knew he could trust her, every part of her screamed that he could and maybe that was why he had no hesitation now that the time was here.

“Then I suppose you should meet Peter Parker.” He grinned.

She’d never told a soul and their interactions became easier as they became more comfortable around each other. Some nights she’d sit in his lap as she played, his arms securely around her frame as he pressed his cheek into her back and listened to her play.

“Why don’t you play for other people to hear?” He asked one day, head on her shoulder as hers was thrown back onto his.

“I’m not that good Pete.” She said.

“You are.” He fired back.

“You’re biased.” She laughed.

“Am not.” He defended himself. “You could make a living out of how good you are.” He added. She turned her head to kiss his cheek.

“Nah, I like it just being you that hears me.” She said and Peter grinned.

“I love you.” He said as he turned his head to look at her.

“I love you.” She returned, almost instantly. He caught her lips with his and smiled as she happily returned the gesture. He pulled away as he rubbed his nose against hers, their relationship had blossomed into something so comfortable and serene. He loved her with everything he had to give, she was his first priority, always.

Although their relationship was so perfect to him, it didn’t mean they didn’t fight, they’d fought many times over the last two and a half years. He remembers when he’d missed a date because someone was terrorizing the city when he was returning home from work, he couldn’t just walk passed it. Although she was always his top priority, sometimes things came up, but never too often.

He knew he’d find her here. He felt immensely guilty for missing their dinner, she’d been so excited the night before, the texts he’d received throughout the day solidifying her excitement. She was playing the piano again, but this time more harshly than he’d ever seen her play, the tune was darker than usual. She was angry, he could tell through the way she was playing, it still sounded beautiful to him.

“Baby, I’m sorry.” He said as he sat next to her. She didn’t look at him as she continued to play. “I tried to text, but I had no service.” He added. When she didn’t respond he waited for her to finish, let her play through her feelings, once she’d finished he spoke again. “Baby, I’m truly sorry.” He said and she looked at him, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

“I know.” She said in defeat. “I understand, you’re spiderman, something came up, right?” She asked and he nodded.

“I tried to get there, I did. But it all ended up in me chasing them through the city in a car chase. I’m so sorry.” He said and she smiled sadly.

“I know. I’ll get over it, I’m just upset that’s all, I was so looking forward to tonight.” She said and Peter’s heart fell, he never wanted her to feel upset with him. “It’s not like it happens all the time, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be upset.” She said as she placed her hands on his cheeks.

“No I get it.” He said and she smiled again, this time less sadness in it as she leaned over and kissed him.

“I expect you to make it up to me.” She said as she looked at him, seduction clear in her eyes and Peter grinned.

“Oh baby, you have no idea.” He said as he captured her lips in his again.

Not all of their fights were worked out so easily. Sometimes their anger got the better of them both, being spiderman took its toll on both of them occasionally.

“Peter! Fuck.” She said as he fell through the door to their house, they’d moved in together recently, the house was gorgeous. Blood soaked his suit and he’d startled her as he fell through the door.

“Hi.” He said in a small voice. He tried to keep himself stood upright, tried to manoeuvre into the living room without getting blood all over the place.

“What happened?” She panicked as she made her way over to him, helping him stand. “You need to go to the hospital.” She continued her panic as she got him to the couch, reaching for her phone. Peter stopped her.

“I’ll be okay. It’s just a few cuts and bruises.” He reassured and she looked at him with concern in her eyes.

“Just a few- Are you fucking kidding me?” She screamed as she set off towards the bathroom, muttering under her breath. This wasn’t the first time he’d come home like this. He worried that one day she’d leave him because of it, MJ had. MJ couldn’t deal with the missed dates and the constant worry that came with dating spiderman; she’d asked him to give it up but he couldn’t.

“Baby, I heal fast.” He reassured as she reappeared, first aid box in hand.

“It’s not the point Peter.” She snapped, he wondered why she was so angry, she wasn’t like this last time.

“I just got overwhelmed, that’s all.” He said and she shook her head.

“You need to be more careful.” She said and he nodded.

“I know. I’ll be okay though, I promise.”

“It’s still not the point.” She snapped and his anger flared.

“Look, I’m spiderman, these things are bound to happen from time to time.” She was yet to look at him as she patched up his hand. Her hands were so careful. “I don’t know what you want me to do.” He said.

“Be more careful.” She muttered and he grew annoyed.

“Right, because I went out tonight, not thinking to be careful. I wanted to come home looking like this.” He snapped. She still hadn’t looked at him.

“Just let me patch you up.” She sighed.

“You might hate the fact that I’m spiderman but it’s a part of my life, I don’t know what you want from me.” He said in frustration and that was when she looked at him for the first time and he instantly regretted his tone, her eyes were swimming with unshed tears, but his anger had risen now.

“It has nothing to do with that!” She said in frustration.

“Then what the fuck is it?” He shouted and her tears fell, his face softening completely, his anger washing away as he regretted his tone with her for the second time in a thirty second period.

“I’m terrified!” She shouted as she stood. “I’m absolutely fucking terrified that one day you won’t come home!” She said as she ran her hands through her hair. “I love what you do, truly I do. I’d be dead if it wasn’t for spiderman but fucking hell Peter, you can’t keep being so reckless.” She was shouting now; her tears had become uncontrollable. “I’m not asking you to give it up, I’m asking you to be more careful, I can’t remember the last time I saw you without some bruise or scar.” She was pacing now.

“And I know you heal fast, that they only last a few days.” She continued, he was watching her intently now, she needed to get this out and he needed to hear it. “It’s hard for me to watch. To pretend I’m okay with how much you get beaten up. I want spiderman to carry on doing what he does, fuck knows what the city would be like without him, but I don’t like what that does to Peter. I need you to be okay.” She stopped as she looked at him, desperation in her eyes. “I need you to always come home to me.” She admitted, tone defeated.

“Hey hey hey,” he said as he stood, he instantly engulfed her in his arms, neither of them caring about the transfer of blood. She cried into his chest as he rested his chin atop her head, one hand rubbing her back, the other in her hair. “I’ll always come home to you baby, always.” He said. “I love you okay. I promise I’ll be more careful. You’re stuck with me now.” He said as he let her get it out, let her cry into his chest as he held her.

He understood now, she didn’t dislike the fact that he was spiderman, not in the same way MJ did. It wasn’t because he missed things sometimes or because he wasn’t as available as she wanted him to be, it was because she loved him, and she didn’t want anything to happen to him. It made him realise in that moment just how much she was the one for him, she didn’t want him to separate the two she wanted him to take care of both Peter and spiderman.

She was scared he wouldn’t come home, whereas MJ had always been angry he missed things or came home after she’d gone to sleep. Y/N? No. She was concerned about losing him and it filled him with so much happiness, sure, he was a super-hero, but she wanted to take care of him, she wanted him as safe as he wanted her. Fuck, he loved this woman and he wondered, if she asked him to, if he’d give it all up. He decided he probably would, but unlike MJ, she’d never ask.

“How about we get cleaned up? Have a shower? Then I’ll take you to bed and we can cuddle okay?” He said as he coaxed her head from his chest, running his thumbs over her cheeks to rid her of her tears. “I promise I’ll be more careful. I love you so much baby. I’m sorry, I didn’t realize what this was doing to you.”

“I love you.” She said as he picked her up, wincing slightly as she caught a particularly prominent bruise. “Sorry.” She mumbled and he kissed her temple in response.

“Please don’t ever apologize for loving me. I’ve never been loved by anyone the way you love me. Baby, I love you so much.” This was what she needed, she needed him to remind her that he wasn’t going anywhere, that he was all hers and that he would always, without any shadow of a doubt, come home to her.

He loved her, with everything he had in him. She was utterly perfect for him, asking her to move in with him had been the best thing he’d ever done. They’d bought an old house, one that needed a ton of work doing to it. Peter had spent hours and many late nights doing it up so they could live in it. There was one room he’d banned her from entering until he was finished, it was the room he took the most pride in.

“Okay, I hope you like it.” Peter said nerves evident in his tone.

“I’m sure I’ll love it.” She said, biting her lip in anticipation. Peter gulped slightly, he really wanted her to love this. He removed his hands that were covering her eyes and she gasped as she put her own over her mouth.

“Please tell me you like it.” Peter worried and she turned to look at him before throwing her arms around him, jumping on him, he only just caught her time. She wrapped her legs around his waist as she peppered kisses on his face.

“Baby, I love it.” She said as happy tears made their way down her face and Peter couldn’t stop his grin.

He let her down and watched as she made her way around the room that had taken him a week to perfect. The room was painted a purple she was in love with, not too bright and not too dark, almost a perfectly calm colour. She approached the bookshelf he’d made; it was a beautiful mahogany; she ran her fingers over it before looking back at him.

“Did you make this?” She asked as he nodded. “I love it.” She smiled. She made her way over to the one thing he’d spent months saving up for, the one thing he’d hoped to get right. He watched as she ran her fingers across the top of the grand piano. She looked mesmerised by it, completely in love and he felt proud of himself. He approached her as she examined the piano and wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’m glad you like it.” He said as he kissed her cheek.

“I love it. It’s perfect.” She replied as she turned in his hold to kiss him. The kiss grew heated quickly and it became the first room in the house they blessed. They’d had sex on that piano stool more times than either of them would admit to.

He remembers when she’d broken her fingers, an accident that had happened at work. She was so upset that she couldn’t play, and Peter didn’t know how to help her as she grew frustrated, especially when she was building the strength back up in her fingers, but he found a way.

“Peter, it’s pointless!” She said in frustration. “I can’t play anymore.”

“You can, you just need to build up the strength in your fingers again.” He comforted. He was sat next to her as he watched her try to play only for her fingers to cramp up after ten minutes.

“I wish I could get through a piece without having to take a break, it’s infuriating.” She let out a huff.

“Come here.” Peter said as he motioned for her to sit on his lap. He encouraged her to place her injured hand on top of his own. “Guide my hand, play through me, then you’re not constantly playing against a hard object.” He had no idea if this would even work but he was willing to try again, she’d grown so frustrated over the time she couldn’t play that he was willing to try just about anything.

It was awkward at first as she guided his fingers over the correct keys, awkward but it made her laugh as she watched him try and help. She said he had a ‘cute look of concentration on his face.’ It became something they enjoyed doing together, even starting to do it with both hands as it became a fun way for them to interact together. Eventually they got it right and Peter smiled triumphantly when they played a song together, he’d never remember they keys himself, but he didn’t care.

She eventually got her strength back but that didn’t stop them from occasionally revisiting their new way of playing together. Although usually it led to her being pinned underneath him as he made her a moaning mess for him.

He was completely head over heals for her and he knew now that she was the one for him, especially after his encounter with MJ a week prior. He always thought seeing the woman he’d first fallen in love with would bring back feelings for him, but it didn’t, not in the way he thought they would.

“Pete?” He heard from behind him, he spun around to look at the face he knew the voice belonged to.

“Hey, MJ.” He smiled; he was happier to see her than he thought he would be. He thought she’d bring back that rush of emotions, but she didn’t, he was still thinking about Y/N.

“Long time no see.” She laughed and he returned it.

“Yeah, how’ve you been?” He asked and she smiled.

“I’ve been really great actually, I met someone.” She said as she held her hand up for him an engagement ring sparkling on her finger. He felt genuinely happy for her, no feeling of bitterness but why would he? He had his Y/N.

“I’m so happy for you.” He said brightly and she smiled.

“What about you? You must be a taken man by now.” She asked and he smiled as he thought about Y/N.

“Yeah, I am.” He said a smile on his face that had MJ smiling for him.

“Who is she? Did we go to school with her?” She pried, only in an interested way, no mocking.

“No, we didn’t. It’s Y/N L/N, she’s amazing. I’ve never met a woman like her.” Peter gushed before realising what he was saying. “Sorry.”

“No, don’t be, I’m happy for you.” She smiled. “Are you engaged or?” MJ asked carefully and Peter shook his head. “You should ask her, if she’s so amazing I mean. You wouldn’t want anyone to snatch her up.” MJ laughed and Peter joined but he thought about it, really thought about it and he wondered why he hadn’t asked her sooner. She was the one for him, that much was clear.

“Maybe I will.” Peter said.

So here he was sweaty palms and ring in his pocket as he followed the sound of her music through the house. She was in her music room, exactly where he knew she’d be.

“Hey.” She smiled as he caught her attention from the doorway, his nerves were setting in now.

“Can you play our song?” He blurted out and he watched as smile spread across her face, he needed to calm his nerves, and this was the best way he knew.

“Sure, you gonna sit or just stand there?” She laughed.

“Sorry.” He said as he took a seat next to her, she studied him before taking his hands in hers.

“You seem nervous.” She spoke as she kissed his knuckles, an action she also knew calmed him.

“I just wanna hear you play, it calms me. Always has.” He said and she smiled.

“Okay.” She agreed as she took her hands from his and began to play, Peter listened to the song as it the melody calmed him. She played so beautifully always has and she was enchanting him as she always had, he watched her play and listened to the music, his nerves leaving him. He was ready to do this, ready for the next step with her, he always would be. He waited until she’d finished before he stood, moving to stand in front of her, she looked at him confused before he got down on one knee, her hands covering her mouth as she gasped.

“Y/N L/N,” he said as he took the ring from his pocket, presenting it to her. She had tears in her eyes and Peter felt his own appear. “You have made me the happiest I have ever been. You had me from the minute I first heard you play, I’ve always found it beautiful and elegant, just like you.” Tears of happiness where streaming down the couples faces. “I can’t think of another person who gets me better than you do. You’re the first person in my life who has loved me for being both Peter Parker and spiderman and it means so much to me, more than you could ever understand. Baby, you are everything I want from life and more so please, will you marry me?” He finished and she cried as she flung herself at him, it caught him off guard as he fell backwards, she was on top of him.

“Yes!” She said as she placed kisses all over his face and he’d never felt his heart full of so much love and joy. She was going to be his forever; she’d just agreed to spend the rest of her life with him. He grinned as he let her continue place kisses on his face. She eventually ceased, sitting up as Peter followed, grasping her hand and placing the ring on her finger.

“Suits you.” He grinned.

“I’m so glad I was stupid enough to go that music hall on my own that night.” She grinned as she held her hand out, examining the ring on her finger.

“I love you.” He said as he kissed her cheek.

“I love you so much Pete. Now let me play our song again.” She said excitedly, getting up from her position on the floor, Peter following as they sat on the bench together. He was so glad he met her and she him.

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker fluff #peter parker angst #peter parker one shot #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n

77 notes · View notes

crystalessenceswrites · 3 years

Note

Hi Again! I was wondering if you wrote for the clones? (I'm thirsting for Wolffe!!) If not, that's ok! And if so, I thought maybe something fluffy and a bit hot with Wolffe? I'm a huge sucker for the trope- Reader tries to hide that she hasn't been feeling well and turns out she's pregnant? With twins! She's scared because even though they're committed, it wasn't planned? And then fluff and some love making?? <3333

Hi lovely, welcome back! I am open to writing for the clones, I just haven’t done so yet! I too thirst for Commander Wolffe so you’re in luck! This trope is def very cute, the end turned out more fluffy than spicy, I hope that's alright.

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader Rating: E (18+) Warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected p in v sex, unplanned pregnancy, swearing (first time writing for Wolffe, may be slightly ooc)

[PART TWO]

There was never enough time. You really should not have been surprised by the revelation, you were at war, but it still sat heavy on your chest. Always needed elsewhere as soon as you completed a mission. Never time to rest, even in transit. Someone always needed your attention for reports, strategic planning or council meetings as the GAR cruiser hurtled through hyperspace. It never left you enough time for him. Thankfully, the stubborn nature of your clone commander allowed him to make time, even if just a spare moment, for the two of you.

“Oh fuck,” you throw your head back against the door as he reaches that spot deep inside you. Pushing you ever closer to the edge. “Wolffe, please-” you’re whining as he grinds up into you, throbbing inside you. He’s always had the uncanny ability to read your body, he knows better than you when you’re close to bliss and he enjoys drawing it out. To think Commander Wolffe was a fucking tease.

“Please what, cyare?” His smug grin slides across your chest following the trail of marks he’s littered across your skin where no one will see. “What does ner jetii need?”

“Please, ‘m so close,” you tighten your legs around his waist, trying to draw him in closer, anything to reach your release, “please, Wolffe!”

He groans into your neck as you tug at the curls fallen loose at the nape of his neck, “well when you ask so nicely, cyare.”

His sudden thrust up pushes the air from your lungs. Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as he pounds into you, all teasing forgotten. He’s relentless as you tighten around him, the coil in your belly threatening to snap.

“That’s it,” he grunts, “come on my cock ner jetii.”

His words and his gloved thumb brushing over your bundle of nerves has you falling apart around him. White hot pleasure rolls over you, leaving you a limp, moaning mess in Wolffe’s arms.

“That’s it, mesh’la. Squeezing me so kriffing tight,” he groans, hips stuttering, his own release fast approaching. “Fuck.” Wolffe manages a few more thrusts before he buries himself in you, spilling himself inside you. Whispered praises fall from his lips as he comes down from his own high. His lips ghost over yours in a chaste kiss as he withdraws, tucking himself away before he lets you down.

Your legs cry out in relief when they meet solid ground, not longer clinging to Wolffe for support.

“Good, cyare?” his hand sweeps over your brow, so tender for a man with such a fierce reputation, even amongst his brothers.

“Mhmm,” leaning into his touch, he chuckles at your blissed out expression.

“Someone’s bound to come looking for you soon, General. Let’s get you cleaned up.” You don’t protest as he helps you redress, though you do moan about how unfair it was he just had to remove his codpiece and you had to strip completely out of your robes for these little storage closet rendezvous’.

“I don’t think jedi robes were designed to allow for easy access, cyare.”

You pout, “you’re probably right.” There was that whole bit about no attachments you were blatantly ignoring after all.

Before the commander can come back with another sharp retort your commlink blinks to life. “Yes?”

“General, General Plo is looking for you on the bridge.”

You sigh, “thank you, Sinker. I’ll be right there.”

Never enough time.

The next couple of months continue much the same. You and Wolffe sneaking away between missions when you can, trying to find solace in each other despite all the horrors you both see on the battlefield. In a war that seems to stretch on forever he is your rock. As he watches his brothers fall, one after the other, you are his comfort. It breaks your heart to be apart from him but there is little you can do to control it. When the council requests you to join Obi-wan and Anakin for a series of missions you cannot object. Instead, you drag your tired self out to the far reaches of the outer rim to help them as best you can.

“You look exhausted, my dear.” Such tact this one possessed.

You roll your eyes, “you don’t look much better, Kenobi.” Though you doubt he has been waking in the middle of the night to empty the contents of his stomach like you have for the past week.

“This war does seem to be pushing us all to our limits.”

“I’ll race you!” Ahsoka sprints by, apparently headed for some target or another with her master hot on her heels.

“Snips!”

Cody chuckles under his bucket, shaking his head as the two disappear into the distance.

Obi-Wan scrubs a hand over his face, “it’s pushed most of us to our limits.”

“What I wouldn’t give to have the energy of a padawan again,” you groan.

“I agree wholeheartedly,” Obi-wan nods, “we should all try to get some rest while we can. We need to break camp near dawn.”

You agree and bid your fellow jedi an early goodnight. With the headache you could feel coming on, sleep sounded like a good idea. As you go to stand the world spins around you, any sense of balance you had gone. You reach for the crate you had been sitting on to try and stay upright but you miss by a mile. Knees giving out you collapse to the floor, the world around you still spinning. You can barely hear Cody shouting over the ringing in your ears.

“Call for a medic! The General’s collapsed!”

By the time you regain consciousness you’re no longer planet side. Obi-wan had been quick to have you medevacked to the closest med-station for testing. The unholy white lights of the station burn your eyes when you finally come to. Your sudden groaning draws Kix back to your bedside.

“General. Good to see you’re back with us.”

“Kix?” You try to focus on the 501st medic instead of the bright lights, “what happened?”

“You collapsed back at the forward camp. We weren’t able to determine what was wrong with the limited medical supplies we had on hand, so General Kenobi called an air lift for you.”

Another groan bubbles up, Obi-wan had been forced to waster precious resources on you. “Were you able to find out what’s wrong?”

The clone’s face falls, “yes.”

You’ve never heard the medic sound so meek before. “Kix?”

“I’m not sure what’s the best way to explain this, General… but you’re pregnant.”

Oh.

“H-how far along?”

“Looks like just over two months,” Kix shifts from foot to foot, pointedly not looking you in the eye. You can’t blame him for being uncomfortable, this isn’t quite the medicine he’d been expecting to practice. He was a combat medic not an obgyn. “We were able to get an ultrasound, would you like to see?”

Nodding, you sit up, your head now spinning for completely different reasons. Kix brings you a datapad displaying the grainy black and white image.

“Kix… am I seeing this right?”

“Yes, general.”

“There’s two…”

“Yes general. You’re having twins.”

Oh fuck.

Kix is a godsend, having worked with Anakin and Rex long enough to know reporting everything may not always be a good idea. The official report on your sudden collapse reads that you suffered from a foreign infection your body had not been prepared to fight, coupled with the battle fatigue, your body had shut down in order to force you to rest. Obi-wan and the council believe it, ordering you back to Coruscant to recover and rest. You knew you would have to tell them; it would not be long until you were showing, but you would much rather deal with the council in person than from your medbay bed.

Before your escort arrives, Kix slips you a disk with a copy of the ultrasound pictures, “in case there’s someone you want to show them to.”

“Thank you, Kix,” he blushes when you give him a quick peck on the cheek, “you’ve done more for me than you’ll ever know.”

You do your best to rest on your trip back to Coruscant but its incredibly difficult when your mind is going a parsec a minute. Besides the council there’s one other person you have to break the news to. While you two had talked about what life would be like for the two of you after the war, this was not something you had discussed. You were not sure if Wolffe wanted kids ever, let alone now. Having twins while the whole galaxy was at war was not ideal. Not when the two of you were expected to put your lives on the line for the Republic.

Panic washes over you when you arrive at the capital to find the wolfpack waiting for you on the tarmac. They’d just arrived back for some long overdue shore leave and Plo had informed them of your sudden illness. Normally you would be touched by how much they cared for you, but now all you can think about is how you are not ready to face Wolffe. Not yet.

You can feel his gaze heavy on your back as you field Sinker and Boost’s barrage of questions.

“I’ll be alright, I just need to take my medicine and get some rest. It shouldn’t be long before I’m right as rain again.” You hate lying to them, but you did not want them worrying unnecessarily either.

It seems to appease them; the pack wishes you well and invites you out to 79’s with them as soon as you’re recovered. Wolffe hangs back, watching his brothers go.

“I’ll walk you back, general.”

“No.” It comes out much harsher than you’d like. The surprise that washes over his face feels like a stab to your gut. “There’s no need, Commander. I’ll be alright.”

His voice drops, brow furrowed together, “cyare?”

“Not now, Wolffe,” you frown, “I just need to go lay down. We’ll talk later.”

But you don’t. You cannot find it in yourself to answer any of his calls or messages over the next few days. Instead, you wrap yourself up in as many blankets as possible and hole up in your quarters while you try to figure out what to do. You watch Coruscant go by from your window. It’s only when Sinker and Boost call that you’re freed from running around in circle inside your head.

“Boost? Sinker? What’s going on?”

“Oh thank goodness you’re alive, General!”

“Boost what are you going on about?”

“The Commanders been going crazy! He hasn’t heard from you in over a week and we don’t think he knows how to handle it!”

Although you and Wolffe did your best to keep your relationship hidden, in such tight quarters it was hard to keep it from Wolffe’s brothers. You’d never outright admitted it to them, but you figured they understood what was going on. You were glad for it now.

“I’ve seen him pace before, but never like this,” Sinker adds.

Oh Maker. “Where is he?”

“The barracks, General.”

“I… I’ll speak with him, alright? Hopefully that will calm him down.”

“Thank you, General! We were running out of ways to distract him!” That was the kind way of saying ways to annoy him to keep Wolffe’s mind off you.

“Thank you, Boost, Sinker.”

“Good luck, General!”

You were going to need it. This was not a conversation to have over the com so you make your way down to the barracks, doing your best to avoid attention when you can. It was not like you weren’t allowed there, but the last thing you needed was more questions.

Boost and Sinker were not lying about the pacing. Punching in the access code to his quarters reveals a tightly wound Wolffe, pacing back and forth across the length if the tight space. His armor has been haphazardly discarded around the room. You’re surprised he hasn’t worn a path into the floor yet.

“General?” Surprise and then relief fall over his face when he catches you standing in the doorway.

“Wolffe, I-”

“What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.”

You’re thrown off by the sudden cold tone in his voice. “I-I came to explain, Wolffe… to apologize.”

“Apologize?”

“I’ve been avoiding you Wolffe,” your voice cracks despite your best efforts to remain calm, “and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have, I just needed to find a way to tell you and I couldn’t.”

His frown deepens, “tell me what?”

“That I’m pregnant.”

“What?” He looks at you live you’ve grown another head.

“I’m pregnant, Wolffe.”

It takes him a moment to wrap his mind around your words, but you can see the instant he does, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ as his jaw falls slack.

“You’re pregnant? With my… with my baby?”

“Babies,” you correct.

His brain seems to sputter out again, “babies?”

You nod, “twins.”

Before you can blink, he’s got you wrapped up in his arms, spinning you around the room. “Twins. You’re having twins.”

It takes everything you have not to start bawling. Kriffing hormones. You’ve never seen Wolffe this happy. This was beyond any reaction you could have imagined. The awe on his face when he sets you down makes your heart melt.

“This is why you were sent back? Your sudden illness?”

“Well yes… but Kix’s report was that I had an infection. I wanted to talk to your first before anyone else. I just didn’t know how.”

His warm hand oh-so-gently cups the side of your face. You lean into the touch. After even just a few weeks apart you’re starving for him.

“Why were you worried, cyare?”

“We’d never talked about kids. And we’re in the middle of a war. Not to mention we’re not even supposed to be together on the first place… I didn’t know how you’d react…”

His face softens, his amber eye drifting down to your nonexistent bump. “I’ll admit, I’m surprised. It may not be how either of us hoped, but it is a pleasant surprise.”

“Really?”

“Really, cyare.” You cannot help but smile as he pulls you in for a kiss. His lips slanting against your own as he holds you close. “I know there may be somethings we need to work out, but we’ll take it one step at a time,” he murmurs against your lips, hands tracing patterns across your back. “We’ll figure it out together.”

#commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #clones x reader #wolffe imagine #the clone wars #tcw #the wolfpack #nsft #smut #request #crystalessences writes

240 notes · View notes

disgruntledspacedad · 3 years

Text

The Rules of Engagement (3/5)

The Better Love Series

pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader/ofc (Ears)

summary: (slow-burn, sexual tension, angst, a little bit of h/c in later chapters) He’s a DEA agent. You work for Centra Spike. Peña’s not your boss, exactly, but you’ve been fwb long enough that certain people are starting to think of you as An Item, and that just won’t do.

words: 3.4k

warnings: 18+ for alcohol, language, smut, violence, body horror, general trauma. Please, please heed the warnings on this chapter, guys. It gets pretty intense.

a/n: Unbeta’d. I know I said this was going to be three chapters, but I lied. Sorry, my dudes - this one got away from me. Inspo credit goes to @tiffdawg, as always.

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

MASTERLIST

Well, fuck. You bite back a massive sigh.

You really, really don’t want to walk through that door.

It’s been a month, and you life has changed profoundly.

For one, you’re not at the office as much anymore - Stechner had made good on his promise to consider you for more flyovers, and boy, has Centra Spike been busy. Some new vigilante group is terrorizing Medellín, and while it’s not Search Bloc’s priority to go after them, they’ve undeniably kept Pablo and his sicarios busy. The radio frequencies are hot right now, and you’ve been doing eight, sometimes ten flights a week.

You absolutely love it. The hours are less predictable and definitely more shitty, but listening to a radio from the cockpit of a plane is much more fun that listening to a radio in a stuffy basement office, so you consider it a fair trade.

It keeps your brain busy, too.

Your social life has taken a massive kick to the nuts. Ana is back at university, and you miss her more than you thought you would. You’ve reverted to communicating with Emilio with gestures and smiles more than words. It’s nice because he’s nice, but you miss actual conversation, stilted as it was. Ana wasn’t all that bad, either.

And then there’s Javi.

You haven’t spoken to him since That Morning, not even a polite 'how are you?' in the hallway. Granted, you’re not seeing him as often anymore, given your new position and hours, but then again, you haven’t exactly sought him out, either.

The memory claws at you every time you relive it - and you relive it often. That anger, that wounded expression. The slammed door, his retreating footsteps. Each time you’re in that building, the walls seem to close in on you, and you have to stop yourself from looking for him, actively keep your gaze from roaming straight to his desk.

God, as if you could make it more awkward.

You’d had one nasty conversation with Murphy about a week after the incident - you’d told him in no uncertain terms that he could either mind his own business or fuck right off, you didn’t care which. He’d left you be, throwing his hands in the air and muttering something about how “you two deserve each other.”

Asshole.

Still, that aborted conversation haunts you - so many aborted conversations haunt you - and you wonder what would have happened if you’d just taken the bull by the horns and addressed the issue with Javi head on.

I’m sorry you caught me rubbing one off on the morning after you almost died, Peña. I can assure you, it won’t happen again. Your friendship means the world to me.

Yeah, right.

God, though, but you miss him.

You miss him so much it aches, a gaping hole that reaches right down to the core of you, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You’d fucked this one completely and thoroughly - any chance of restoring your friendship had drained away with the shower-water, and the more time you spend fretting over it, the more awkward - and pathetic - it would be to say anything.

So, you’d cut your losses, held your head high, and tried not to waste too much time wishing you’d have just kept your fucking fantasies to yourself.

Now, though, you’ve got no choice.

You’d been on Centra Spike’s early morning flight, just another routine scan over Medellín. The shift wasn’t intended to be more than a training run for you, but as luck would have it, the Medellín cartel’d had a busy night, and you’d been caught in the crossfire.

Your plane had just touched down half an hour ago, and now you’re standing on the front steps of the embassy building, fingering a shoebox cassette player loaded with a freshly taped recording full of juicy intel destined for the desk of DEA Agent Javier Peña - an entire, private conversation featuring none other than Verdugo himself.

You’d know that voice anywhere. You’ve studied it for hours, what few snatches you’d been able to glean from the embassy archives. It’s almost as if Verdugo is smart enough to steer clear of the city, or to just avoid phone conversations all together, the absolute fuckwad.

Until early this morning.

On the plane, you’d intercepted a new signal and tapped in on a whim, intending to practice your Spanish more than anything, but what you’d overheard was a fucking gold mine of information.

Verdugo is in Medellín. The sicarios are getting ready to move Escobar. He didn’t say where - fucking bastard knows not to spill all of the beans in one conversation - but apparently the plan requires a rendezvous in El Centro first. Verdugo is en route, and will be there until the next morning.

You’d worked frantically all night, tracing and retracing the signal, triangulating potential addresses, then back-tracking to account for environmental distortion. Each calculation had led you to the same place - an unassuming little house right smack in the middle of Medellín.

Bingo.

“You take it in, Aarons.” Torres had declined your offer to do the honors. “It’s your intel.”

So here you are, bleary-eyed and running on less than two hours of sleep, cassette player clenched tightly to your chest, summoning up all of your courage just to go speak with your ex... well, ex whatever-the-fuck Peña is.

‘This is your job,’ you remind yourself fiercely. ‘You can do this.’

As pep-talks go, it isn’t very effective.

Fuck it. You toss your head back, wishing you’d had time to at least grab a cup of coffee on the way in, and breeze around the corner.

“Agent Peña.”

He glances up lazily, thoroughly uninterested in whatever you have to say. When he realizes it’s you, he blinks once, dropping his cigarette in the ashtray and sitting up to eyeball you with a wary expression.

"What can I do for you?” he asks cooly.

You remember him saying that once before, but the context was totally different.

You shake it off. “Centra Spike has new intel that you’ll want to see right away.”

He purses his lips, tilting his head to indicate the growing pile of bullshit on his desk. “You can leave it here.”

Oh, so that’s how it is, then?

“I can’t.” You pin him with a stare, and he meets your gaze evenly, raising his eyebrows in silent challenge. You clear your throat and clarify. “I won’t.”

He scoffs as you carefully rest cassette tape on his desk, along with a map of El Centro. “We intercepted a four minute conversation with Verdugo this morning. He’s here.” You point to the safe house on the map, which you’ve already circled in red ink. “Feo and Limón are with him. They’re leaving early tomorrow.”

Peña frowns down at the spot where your finger rests. “And can you corroborate that information?”

Oh, the motherfucker. “I verified his voice personally, Peña,” you say carefully, doing your damndest to keep the annoyance from your tone. It’s well within his right to ask questions, after all. “It’s a direct match for the audio samples we have.” You tap the tape for emphasis. “You’re welcome to listen for yourself.”

He doesn’t make a move for a long time. Something hot and painful burns in your gut as you wait.

God, he knows you, knows you better than anybody else in on this goddamned continent. He knows that you know your shit, that you want to catch Escobar as desperately as he does. And this evidence that you have spread across his desk, recorded on tape and marked plainly in red ink, is irrefutable, undeniable - it’s a huge break. He knows that, too.

His apathy is palpable, and it’s driving you up the fucking wall.

When he finally glances up at you, it’s with a doubtful little smirk on his face. “Hmm.”

And oh, wow, you’re shocked by just how much that hurts.

All your life, from the moment you were born into a family of brothers, you’ve had to fight tooth and nail to be taken seriously. It was a fact of life as early as you can remember - ‘look after your sister,’ or, ’she’s just a girl,’ or ‘wow, you’re really great at math, for a woman!’ You’d settled on your career as an analyst because you’d wanted it, not because you’d had something to prove, but still, the military is a male-dominated field, and from the start, the odds had been stacked against you. Landing this CIA gig had been the achievement of a fucking lifetime. Still, the bar is set high in the Colombia, and it’s set that much higher for a woman. You’re well aware of this; you’re reminded every single day.

Point being, you’re used to defending yourself and your abilities; it comes as natural as breathing.

But until now, you’ve never had to fight this battle with Peña. He’d taken you at face value from the moment he'd laid eyes on you, treating you like just another operative. Sure, he might take a crack at you every now and again, but that's all in good fun, and you’ve never been one to shy away from a laugh.

Christ, you never realized just how much that respect meant to you until suddenly, it’s gone.

“If you have something to say about my skills and qualifications, Agent Peña, then I suggest you say it.” You lean over his desk, speaking quietly, enunciating each syllable with deadly precision. “Otherwise, I think we both know that it’s in the best interest of Search Bloc and the Colombian people that we collaborate quickly, so we can put boots on the ground and land this motherfucker behind bars where he belongs.”

Peña’s eyes narrow, and he cocks his head, studying you. You meet his gaze, biting back a snarl. You won’t back down. You won’t allow him to intimidate you.

When he nods sharply and reaches for his phone, you know you’ve won.

♠

Ten minutes later, you’re situated in a conference room with Peña, Steve Murphy, Martinez, and a couple of the other higher ups of Search Bloc whose names you haven’t memorized. Your maps are spread over the table, your tape displayed for all to see, and every eye is on you.

“Verdugo is here,” you say, leaning over the map to indicate the marked house. “He and his entourage arrived late last night, and they’re planning to leave early tomorrow morning.”

“Plenty of time to get a team together.” Murphy interjects, glancing between you and Peña with open curiosity.

You narrow your gaze at him. Drama-mongering bastard.

Peña’s not moving. He’s standing with his hip cocked toward the desk, frowning down at the map with his fingers curled to his chin like he’s totally oblivious to everything happening around him.

You know he’s not, though. That’s Javi’s thinking face, the one he makes when he wants people to shut the fuck up and forget about him until he can work something out. You’re pretty familiar with that one.

The others are babbling in Spanish, discussing logistics and the likelihood of this being another trap.

It’s not. You know this deep in your bones. You’d heard that conversation in real time, had translated, triangulated it.

This is legit.

You’ve just decided to leave them to it when Javi snaps his eyes open.

“I agree with Aarons,” he announces out of nowhere. You’re startled by the confidence in his tone. Curious, you glance up, but it’s difficult to get a read on him. He’s pinning every person in the room except you with a hard stare. “We need to move out now.”

Several of the others make noises of protest, but Peña shuts them all down, one by one. Finally, his eyes flicker up to meet yours, just for a brief second, but there’s something different in his gaze, something new and heavily guarded.

You think it might be an apology.

“Let’s end this.”

♠

He’s on a plane to Medellín within an hour, wearing that stupid bullet proof vest. For just a split second, you wish that you were going, too. You don’t have enough experience, though - you’re not an agent; you haven’t handled a gun since basic. You’d be useless in a real fight, a liability, even.

Still, you feel some ownership in this operation, today more than ever. You don’t even try to kid yourself about Javi anymore, either. Those fucking feelings haven’t faded in a month, not a bit, not even after the awkward conversation you’d had in his office.

‘But he stood up for you, too, afterward,’ something whispers in the back of your mind. You replay that little glance in the conference room over and over as you watch Search Bloc board the plane.

He’s looking for you this time, standing on the ramp with his eyes shaded like he knows you’ll be waiting. He doesn’t nod and you don’t wave, but you make eye contact for a lingering moment, and again, there’s something in his expression that you don’t recognize.

Then the plane takes off down the runway, and you feel as if your heart is swooping away with it.

♠

You volunteer for the late shift at work, monitoring the radio lines in case something comes up. It’s an unusually quiet night, as if all of Bogotá collectively holds its breath, and you mostly spend it watching the clock, calculating the hours in your head.

One to land in Medellín. Two more to mobilize the men. Another half to get in location.

From there, your speculation gets fuzzy. There’s no way to predict the outcome once Verdugo is engaged. Javi’s told you a million stories, each more unbelievable than the last - car chases and rooftop shootouts, standoffs in the street, a fistfight in a church sanctuary, bodies of children littering dark alleyways… you cut off the recollections. They aren’t doing you any favors.

Verdugo is a dangerous man. Anything could happen.

By seven am, your brain is mush and your eyes are hyper-focused in that bleary way that happens when you’ve gone too long without sleep. Your third cup of coffee has gone cold, and people are starting to trickle in. You wave half-heartedly to Torres as you slip out of your headset, rubbing your fingers over your scalp to ease the tension that comes from wearing heavy earphones all night. A shower sounds nice, you decide, and maybe a quick nap afterward.

Somebody will page you with news.

Getting out of the building does a lot to wake you up. There’s something oppressive about the CNP headquarters that seems to abate when you step into the streets of Bogotá. The city buzzes with life even in the early morning, and air is warm in a way that seems to energize rather than sedate. Optimism is easier to invoke as you walk down the street in broad daylight.

Javi had looked at you, at least. He’d listened. He’ll call in to the office as soon as he can. Your intel was good, and they’ve flushed out the rat, he’d promised you that.

Everything will be okay.

You round the corner of CRA 70 and Circular, waving to Emilio, who is working the register of the pharmacy today.

“Orejas!” He shouts, reaching below the counter to hold aloft another bottle of aguardiente. “¡Mira! Solo para ti!”

You grin back at him, raising your voice to shout a greeting, and then, with absolutely no warning, the store explodes.

A loud boom.

A whoosh of impossible heat.

A massive orange fireball billowing from the windows.

Your body flying, flying through the air.

Bright blue sky, and then darkness.

♠

You find yourself lying flat on your back in the middle of the street. Your ears are ringing. There’s a pat-pattering in the air, soft like falling rain.

You blink hard.

It’s not rain, you realize dizzily.

It’s fucking ash.

The air is dark with it, hot and heavy. It coats your tongue and stings your eyes. It’s hard to catch a breath. Your throat hurts, your chest aches. You cough weakly. The smell is terrible, acrid and bitter like burned metal. You can taste it on your tongue.

Slowly, you tense your muscles. Your chest is still burning, but there’s nothing sharp to suggest a serious injury. Your back is sore, your head fuzzy.

You sit up, wincing a little, relieved to realize that you’ve just had the wind knocked from you. You’ll have some bruises tomorrow, but that’s all.

Sound slowly filters in. The hiss and crackle of flame. A shout in the distance. Further away, a wailing siren.

Reality slams into you all at once.

Emilio!

You stand, wobbling more than you think you should, but you push past it. Reality seems to pitch and roil, as if the ground is hitching its breath beneath you. Rubble coats the street, dust clouds the air.

Oh god.

A gaping, smoking crater is all that’s left of Emilio’s pharmacy. The windows are blown out of the businesses on either side, their outer walls bowing under the pressure. Your apartment on the top floor is demolished, the roof caving in, flames licking at the the collapsed floors.

You gasp one long, shuddering breath, taking it all in, and then you’re running, sort of, picking your way through hunks of concrete and twisted metal.

“Emilio! Emilio!”

Your voice is hoarse, the world hushed. Nothing sounds quite right. Your legs are shaking and you can’t catch your breath. Some of the rubble is hot to the touch, and you feel like you’re moving underwater, slow and awkward and stupid.

You approach what’s left of the store, and the smell hits you first. Like cooked meat - charred, greasy, heavy.

You press your hand to your mouth to stifle a scream.

You found Emilio. He’s pinned beneath part of the collapsed roof. You look away quickly, but not before you catch a glimpse of blackened flesh, of bone, blood, and pink frothy tissue.

Acid rises in your throat, and you stumble to your knees, stomach clenching painfully into your ribs as you vomit onto the street. It goes on and on, over and over for an eternity, tears and snot and bile and ash leaking mingled down your face until there is nothing left in you to expel.

The encroaching wail of a siren draws you to your senses. You glance up, suddenly painfully aware of your situation. The ceiling is arching above you, just to your right, and it’s creaking ominously. The fires are still burning, and your shirt is clinging painfully hot against your back. You stagger to your feet once again, dizzy, almost drunkenly. A small crowd has gathered, pointing and gawking, calling out to you in Spanish that you are far, far too overwhelmed to translate.

Gasping, you raise your hands and side-step away, careful of the debris that litters the street around you.

A firetruck arrives on the scene, squalling to a stop between you and the onlookers, and you leap at the opportunity, ducking down the nearest alleyway before anybody can follow.

♠

You aren’t sure how much time you waste in the alleyways of Bogotá.

Seconds?

Minutes?

The time after the explosion is all a blur, and you run until you literally can’t anymore, until you’re doubled over and wheezing, coughing, hacking, panting.

Some primal survival instinct clicks in your brain then, and suddenly, your mind is clear. You glance around, swiping at your cheeks and brushing the ash from your shirt.

Now what?

You take a shaking breath and think.

Okay, first order of business, you’re absolutely disgusting. You need a shower before you can even think about doing anything productive.

Your bathroom just went up in flames, along with all of your clothes. Your heart clenches as you think of Ana - she’s at university, so that’s out. The embassy has a nice bathroom, but no showers that you’re aware of.

There’s only one place you know to go, and that’s Javi’s apartment.

You glance up at the sky. The sun is still pretty low - it can’t have been more than an hour since you’d left work, and that was around seven am. Javi obviously isn’t home, and you don’t have a key, but if you hurry, there’s still a chance that you could catch Murphy before he leaves his flat.

It’s a long shot, but you decide there’s nothing to lose for trying.

#Javier Peña x reader #javier peña #narcos #javi x you #javi x reader #javier pena x reader #narcos netflix #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fandom #narcos fanfiction #Javier Peña imagine #pedro fandom #the rules of engagement #better love #angst #slow burn #friends to lovers #hurt/comfort #smut

362 notes · View notes

ironwoman359 · 3 years

Text

You Don’t Own Me (You Don’t Even Know Me)

Chapter 4

Navigation: Ch.1, Ch.2, Ch.3, Ch.4, Ch.5, Ch.6

Summary: As the son of a Baron, Roman Sanders always knew that when he married, it would be due to a political arrangement rather than true love. Still, when he is sent away to marry an older, more powerful Earl, he is determined to make the best of his situation. Despite the Earl’s indifference towards him, Roman forges ahead and prepares to become the best husband he can possibly be, making new friends along the way. But when his fiancé’s demeanor turns from cold to cruel, Roman must shift all of his focus to survival, and find a way out of his marriage before it’s too late.

Ships: Logince, side Moxiety and Dukeceit

Content Warnings (overall): arranged marriage, abuse, attempted sexual assault, murder, poisoning, character death, hurt/comfort, angst Chapter 4 Warnings: possessive behavior, verbal and physical abuse, angst, allusions to abuse and murder

Word Count: 4067

Read on AO3: here!

A/N: Co-written with @5-falsehoods-phonated, check out his masterlist here and check out mine here!

---

“And when I tried to get down, Remus spooked the pony and it bolted, with me still clinging to the saddle for dear life.”

Virgil snorted, then immediately brought his hand up to cover his smile.

“You wound me!” Roman said dramatically, placing a hand on his chest. “Eight-year-old me was certain that his life was going to end, and you’re laughing?”

“I can’t help that the mental image of you dangling off the saddle of a pony and screaming your head off is the funniest thing I’ve seen all week,” Virgil replied.

“Be nice, Virgil!” Patton scolded, even as he fought back giggles of his own. “I’m sure it was very scary at the time!”

“You’re telling me,” Roman agreed. “I wouldn’t set foot near the stables for a month.”

“I can’t believe that after all that you somehow grew up to be a competent rider,” Virgil said.

“Well, I probably wouldn’t have if it weren’t for my older brother Remy. He started taking me with him when he went out on his rides; I felt a lot safer riding double with him than I did by myself.”

“Your brothers sound wonderful,” Patton said, smiling.

“Oh, they’re the absolute worst,” Roman said. “But also I love them more than anyone.”

“I hope we’ll get to meet them at the wedding!”

Roman’s smile went brittle around the edges, and he forced himself to nod.

“I hope so too,” he said quietly.

Patton’s brow wrinkled, and Roman knew that look, that was Patton’s “I’m worried about you” look, and as much as he had come to view Patton and Virgil as his friends, he wasn’t sure if he was ready to get into the whole “my twin brother ran away from home to escape noble life and I haven’t seen him in years and might never see him again” topic with them just yet.

“Well this has been great,” Virgil cut in suddenly. “But it’s getting close to midday; I need to get back to work, and you need to get to your little lunch date.”

“Excuse you, it is a perfectly professional business meeting!” Roman protested, and Virgil rolled his eyes.

“Sure it is. That’s why you meet with Logan every single day and always perk up or get this silly smile on your face whenever you mention something that he said, most of which has nothing to do with business.”

Roman gave Virgil a deadpan look. “Do you really want me to retaliate right now?” he asked, glancing pointedly at Patton.

Virgil’s cheeks flushed pink, and he waved Roman away.

“Go on, then!” he said. “Go have your perfectly professional business meeting.”

“I will!” Roman said primly, but as he stood to leave, he shot Virgil a grateful smile, and Virgil nodded in return.

After parting with Patton at the house’s entrance, Roman made the short trek down to the library alone. He hadn’t been sure how he would manage living at the Howard Estate at first, but his life had settled into a predictable yet comfortable routine since the engagement banquet.

Patton brought breakfast to his room every morning, and after Roman insisted several times that he preferred the company, Patton now stayed to eat with him most mornings. After breakfast, Roman changed into his riding clothes and the two headed down to the stables together, where Virgil was waiting for them with Angel. Roman took his morning ride, and Patton and Virgil did whatever it was they liked to do when they were alone together.

When he returned, Roman helped Virgil groom Angel, and the three of them often fell into easy conversation with one another. At midday, Roman took his lunch in the library with Logan, and he spent the afternoons on his own, exploring the mansion or indulging in his creative hobbies. All in all, his days were mostly pleasant, until dinnertime, of course.

His nightly dinner with Lord Howard was, to his disappointment, the most boring and uncomfortable part of Roman’s day. It became clear to Roman after a few attempts of engaging with his fiance that Lord Howard wasn’t even slightly interested in talking with him; what he wanted was somebody to talk at. Roman sat, night after night, and listened to the earl rant about frustrating business partners, idiotic city officials, and even tiny annoyances like a scuff on his boot or a fly in his office. It was difficult to not feel like an emotional punching bag, and Roman always left dinner exhausted from playing the polite, doting fiance that Lord Howard expected him to be.

Roman stepped into the library, and smiled when he saw Logan sitting at a table beneath a window, the afternoon sun casting golden beams of light through his long hair.

At least there were more positives than negatives to living at this estate.

“Ah, Roman,” Logan said, smiling as he approached. “Excellent timing, I was just beginning to review my weekly report for Lord Howard. Would you care to assist me?”

“Always,” Roman said, sitting down across from him.

They poured over the receipts and summaries and work orders together, and Roman couldn’t help but marvel at the sheer amount of work that Logan did every single day.

“Honestly, Logan, you do almost too much for the earl. Especially considering what he pays you.”

Roman had seen the payroll receipts for all the staff, and he couldn’t help but be a little insulted on the servants’ behalf. One of the ways Lord Howard kept costs down was clearly at the expense of his staff.

“While I may agree with your sentiment, the fact of the matter is that if I did not do all this, the estate would fall apart,” Logan said. “And regardless of any...personal feelings about his lordship, there are far too many people who depend on him and his estate for me to consider stopping.”

Logan paused, frowning as he scanned a document, then sighed.

“For instance, his lordship neglected to sign off on a shipment of new armor to the city guard, despite my reminding him to do so three times in the last week.”

He scrawled something along the bottom of the document and set it aside, and Roman raised an eyebrow.

“Was that Lord Howard’s name you just wrote?”

Logan fiddled with his glasses, and he glanced around the room before answering. “This is...not the first time that his lordship has neglected his duties on what he perceives to be minor issues. I, uh...take the liberty of correcting such oversights for him.”

“You can forge his handwriting?” Roman translated, and Logan nodded sheepishly. “That’s amazing!”

Logan blinked, looking up at Roman in clear surprise. “I...it is?”

“Are you kidding me?” Roman exclaimed. “Of course it is...you’re so talented, Logan, really. I’m not exaggerating when I say you’re wasted as a secretary.”

“Oh...well, thank you, Roman,” Logan said, his cheeks flushing slightly pink. “I must admit, you also have far more potential than his lordship would care to acknowledge.”

“I’ll get him to see sense soon,” Roman insisted. “Then maybe together, we can make some real changes around here!”

“I wish I shared your optimism,” Logan said with a sigh. “But I am glad to share your company, at least.”

It was Roman’s turn to blush, but before he could think of a reply, the sound of footsteps caught his attention, and he looked up to see Patton approaching their table.

“Sorry for interrupting, Kiddos, but I’ve been asked to fetch Roman here and get him ready.”

“Get me ready?” Roman asked, and Patton nodded.

“His lordship requests your presence at a business meeting he has in an hour with other estate holders. I’ve been instructed to dress you for the event and bring you to his lordship.”

Roman forced down the twinge of discomfort in the back of his mind at the earl choosing an outfit for him like he was some sort of doll, and grinned as he got to his feet.

“You see, Logan?” he said. “This is our chance!”

“If it is a meeting with other nobility, then I’m afraid I won’t be present,” Logan said. “Lord Howard does not wish for...commoners to be present at such negotiations. He instructs me on what measures need to be taken afterwards.”

“That’ll be the first thing we change then, once I make him see reason,” Roman said. “You’ll see, this is going to be the start of something great!”

“I hope you are right,” Logan said with a small smile. “Good luck, Roman.”

“Thank you, Logan,” Roman said as he followed Patton out of the library.

I’ll certainly need it.

--- --- ---

Roman fidgeted uncomfortably in his chair, shooting a glance over to the earl to make sure he hadn’t noticed. The silky fabric that his pants were made of stuck uncomfortably to his skin and made his legs itch horribly, but he had been in similar attire before and had had plenty of practice in the art of keeping his poise while screaming internally. Thankfully, even though he was seated right next to Lord Howard, he had yet to draw his attention. Howard had been too occupied bragging about his various business exports for most of the meeting to pay much attention to him.

Even through his discomfort, Roman had been learning a lot about his fiance, dutifully keeping mental notes on everything he heard, from which parts of land he had inherited to which ones he had bought or negotiated into owning. Overseas businesses and local investments both let his power reach farther than one might first suspect, and all that put together was what kept the Howard Estate with its acres of land, sprawling mansion and extensive grounds and highly specialized staff all running smoothly.

It was a lot to manage, so it made sense that Lord Howard had Logan figure out most of the work and only signed off on the most important things himself. Having someone as competent as Logan run things in the background so the true estate head could make the actual appearances as the business leader was a strategy many nobles used to keep their properties under control.

Craning his neck to look up at his fiance from his lower seat, Roman furrowed his brow in thought. He wondered just how much Logan did that the earl never saw anything about until he reaped the benefits of it. Sure, Logan was extremely capable, but relying entirely on one person to manage everything seemed a bit foolhardy to Roman.

Tuning back into the conversation, Roman perked up as another lord gestured stiffly at a stack of documents in front of him, smooth calculation clear in his tone of voice. Negotiations were something Roman had always prided himself in handling, and handling well. He had often spoken circles around his own father in their practice debates, and it was rare that Roman participated in a discussion without gaining something in his own favor.

As neither party at the moment looked particularly stressed, Roman figured with a slight twinge of disappointment that such measures shouldn’t be needed this time. He would have liked to show off just a bit and make Lord Howard see what a useful asset he could actually be in their marriage, but he supposed that could wait until a more appropriate opportunity.

“I have most of the influence in this field anyway. Signing your bit of land over to me now would cause fewer problems for you in the future; especially if I don’t have to take it by force when I’m looking to expand.” Punctuating his statement with a firm tap to the papers, the opposing lord sat back with a satisfied smirk.

The icy glare Lord Howard fixed him with was enough to wipe the smirk fully off his face, however, and he tilted back slightly as the earl leaned forward to fold his hands smoothly in front of him.

“I’m not in the habit of signing away what’s rightfully mine, Lord Rilken, Baron of Vilvik.”

Roman flinched slightly at the way he practically spat the other man’s title…a title he shared, and had never once felt insecure about until this very moment. The way he spoke to these men, these people in positions of power, like they were nothing but dirt to be brushed off his own much more impressive riches- it was enough to make Roman want to run all the way back to his own estate and beg for another way, plead to wait for someone else to ask for his hand or to find someone himself. He stiffened in his seat and shook the irrational thoughts away.

No, this is how one played the game when negotiating important matters. Put up a cold and intimidating front until the other person backed down or bent to your own suggestions. If anything, Lord Howard's act was admirable; it almost immediately shut down any arguments, even if it hardly held any semblance of tact. Realizing this would be a good opportunity to show his skills, Roman leaned forward and placed his own hands on the table in front of him, gaining the attention of the opposing business owners quickly.

“It might prove advantageous to you both to simply form a partnership and share the land and business potential it holds. With as much power as the both of you hold over this branch, you’d be able to expand much faster and reap more benefits than you would if you spent all of your time attempting to take control over the others’ sections.” Pleased with himself, Roman glanced over to Lord Howard, expecting at least to have impressed him since he hadn’t really had the time to explain all that he had been trained in and what he could bring to the estate with their union.

However, as he met Lord Howard’s eyes, ice ran through his veins. The earl was glaring, staring him down like a particularly resilient bug that he could hardly wait to smash beneath a steel-toed boot. The room went so quiet that Roman could swear that the other nobles were holding their breath, and glancing around in his peripherals, he saw everyone sitting around the table gawking at him as if he’d just committed high treason. Had he really said something so wrong? Was this not what was customary, nay, expected behavior of the soon to be co-owner of the estate? Shrinking down slightly as his ears burned red, he finally lowered his eyes as the earl turned away. Roman heard him take a deep breath before saying in a deliberately controlled voice:

“You must forgive my fiance, he hails from a country estate you see; he isn’t accustomed to the way things work here yet. If you would be so kind as to excuse us for just a moment so that I may explain a few things?” Not waiting for an answer, the earl stood and held out his hand for Roman to take. “If you would step into the hall with me, dearest?”

Recognizing the order under the request, Roman stood quickly and took Lord Howard’s hand, wincing at how tightly he was gripped and practically dragged out of the room. The door was opened just a bit too forcefully to calm his nerves in the slightest and he watched as Lord Howard seemed to barely refrain from slamming it back closed, instead closing it with deliberate calm before whirling around to face him and jerking his hand out of Roman’s to tower before him.

“Let me make this perfectly clear, you do not speak out of turn in these meetings. You do not speak above me or-”

“But I didn’t! I was only-” Roman didn’t register what the dull smacking sound echoing in his ears and making them ring was until pain bloomed and spread from his lower jaw to his entire cheek. Raising his hand to his face in disbelief, he felt a bit of wetness and looked to see blood on his fingertips. Fear and horror twisted in his gut as he realized one of Lord Howard’s rings must have caught on his cheek and opened a cut. His jaw ached and his teeth felt numb; the blow had been hard enough to rattle them in his skull. Romans looked up and flinched as he saw Howard’s hand still raised to strike should he choose to speak again, and he shrunk in on himself in an attempt to seem too small to expend more energy on.

“You,” The earl spat, “do not speak above me, or make suggestions on my behalf. You are not here to offer up useless opinions that were not asked for or needed. You were brought into that room to sit obediently and look pretty on my arm and that is the full extent that your role will ever be. Have I made myself clear?”

Roman hesitated for just a second too long, and Lord Howard reached down to grip his chin, tipping his head so he had no choice but to look his assailant directly in the eyes. “My dear, I believe I asked you a question, and I expect an answer.”

Biting back a whimper Roman nodded as much as he could with his face trapped in the steely grip. “Yes my lord, I understand perfectly. I apologize for overstepping, it won’t happen again.”

The answer, as demeaning as it had felt to say, seemed to appease the still seething man, and Howard dropped his chin and stepped back with a wolfish smile.

“Very good, see to it that it doesn’t. Now, I believe we’ve been here long enough. If you’re done blubbering, you may join me.”

Startling a bit at the choice of phrasing, Roman hesitantly reached up to touch his face, wincing as he realized there was more than just blood on his cheeks. Taking a deep breath, he carefully wiped the tears away before plastering on a small smile and moving to stand just behind the earl. He was loath to go back into the room like this, humiliation and blood reddening his cheeks, but he didn’t dare speak up for fear of more punishment. As Lord Howard opened the door and moved back to his place at the head of the table, he hardly spared Roman another glance, and Roman had no choice but to meekly follow.

Sitting down, Roman realized most of the people at the table were staring at him like one would a fresh kill, their expressions a mixture of pity and approval while they averted their eyes. Sinking down even lower as the meeting resumed, he realized this was to be the second part of his punishment. He was to learn and remember his role as Lord Howard’s betrothed and eventual husband. Sit still and look pretty, step a toe out of line and be punished, and make sure everyone in the room knew that the power held over him was just as absolute as the power the earl held over everything else.

“I’m pleased to know some people still know how to keep common folk in line. Truly, the disrespect-” Roman’s ears rang as someone close by whispered to another just loud enough for him to overhear, making him want to sink down even lower and let the floor swallow him.

The meeting continued on for what seemed like forever, but unlike before, Roman didn’t absorb a single word of what was said. The voices of the other lords washed over him as he sat as still as he could, hands clenched in his lap to keep them from trembling. When at last Lord Howard stood, Roman almost stood up next to him, but caught himself just in time and sent a questioning glance up at his fiance.

Lord Howard’s lips curled into a smile, and he held his arm out to Roman in invitation. Roman swallowed down his revulsion and stood, slipping his arm into the earl’s and schooling his face into a pretty smile. Lord Howard covered Roman’s hand with his own, and Roman’s skin burned at the touch.

“Well gentlemen, this concludes our discussion for the day, I do thank you all for coming.”

One by one the nobles stood, nodding to Lord Howard as they filed out of the room. Roman’s cheeks heated as several of them swept their eyes over him as they passed, their gazes lingering on the bruise blooming on his face. When at last, every one of them was gone, Lord Howard turned his attention to Roman, all false pleasantries gone from his expression.

“I trust that after today, any...confusion about your role here has been cleared up?” he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Yes, my lord,” Roman whispered, and the earl smiled.

“Good. Now go clean yourself up. Dinner is at seven o’clock sharp, and I expect you to look presentable.”

“Yes, my lord,” Roman repeated, and as soon as Lord Howard dropped his arm, he practically bolted from the room.

He hurried through the corridors of the mansion, head down and eyes stinging. When he finally reached his room, he all but slammed the door behind him, and collapsed to the floor, his shoulders shaking as he released the sob he’d been holding back for the past hour.

He let himself cry, for how long, he wasn’t sure, not only for the sting on his cheek and the shame that came with it, but for every doubt, every grief, every pain that he’d pushed down and bottled up over the past month.

After everything he’d been through, everything he’d sacrificed, was this really his fate? Chained forever to a man who only saw him as something to own, to display, to use...

Roman lifted his head slowly.

“Remember all that we've taught you, and you'll do fine."

His father had taught him everything he knew about business, about politics, about matters of the state. He knew how to act with decorum, how to spot an opportunity, and how to charm a room while negotiating, all thanks to his father’s teachings.

But now, with tears running down his face and a bruise blossoming on his cheek, he remembered another set of lessons.

Lessons his mother had given him as a teenager, after time had run its course and he was no longer the slightly awkward, gangly kid he had once been.

“You’ve grown into a handsome young man,” his mother had said to him on his eighteenth birthday. “Your father believes that when you are married, it will be purely for political reasons. You need to know that this may not be the case.”

Roman had tried to forget the lessons his mother had passed down to him, had told himself that he would never need them...but here he was, sobbing on the floor, the first of what he knew would be many marks on his skin if he didn’t tread carefully.

Roman learned everything he knew about running an estate from his father, but he learned everything about acting from his mother. Thanks to her, he knew how to conceal his emotions, how to smile when his stomach rolled over and how to sigh when his skin burned. He knew how to mold himself into the perfect husband, because if he did not let himself be molded he would find himself broken before it was too late.

“Too late for what, mother?” the younger him had asked, eyes wide and horrified, and she’d smiled in a way he’d never seen before.

“Did I ever tell you the story of how your grandfather died?”

Roman knew what situations were most likely to result in “accidents,” what weapons were easily concealed and what poisons were difficult to detect. He knew how to pluck a nose hair to bring tears to his eyes and slap his cheeks so they appeared flushed. He knew how to appear calm and collected when he was suffering, and how to appear stricken with grief when all he felt was relief.

He had been preparing for marriage his whole life...every kind of marriage. And now that he knew the kind of husband that Lord Howard really wanted, he knew exactly what kind of husband he was going to be.

Even if he wouldn’t be one for very long.

--- --- ---

Previous | Next

Everything Taglist: @poison-lyra, @spacevirgil, @mirror2thespirit, @stormcrawler75, @backatthebein, @bubblycricket, @callboxkat, @theinvisiblespoon, @fandomsofrandom, @hold-our-destiny, @broadwaytheanimatedseries, @grey-lysander, @leaves-and-bounds @storytellerofuntoldlegends, @funsizedgremlin, @iaminmultiplefandoms, @slightlyobssesive, @today-only-happens-once, @fluidityandgiggles, @faithfreedom-art, @theymaynotbedenied, @redone0-0dreamer, @lamp-calm-sanders, @heythereprincey, @evetheodd, @thedundundunnnsong, @fandomloverangel, @i-read-by-lamp @msu82

Sanders Sides Taglist: @spacevirgil, @nerd-in-space, @littlemiracle05, @silverrhayn, @starsinger,@callboxkat, @fantasyandfairfolk, @fanartfunart, @dwbh888, @analogical-mess, @hold-our-destiny, @broadwaytheanimatedseries, @nightmarejasmine, @sanderstalker, @storytellerofuntoldlegends, @a-lexicon-of-words, @llamaly, @funsizedgremlin, @punknerdmusings, @hikariyukino, @milomeepit, @theymaynotbedenied, @sassy-in-glasses, @musicphanpie-b, @fluidityandgiggles @asymmetricalgarbage8888, @lamp-calm-sanders, @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah, @damienswifeolicitydallysgirl, @felicianoromano, @chaosfamder, @dorkoverse, @idontevenfreakingknow22, @shortandfantastic, @the-gilbird, @raygelkitty, @your-heads-not-in-the-gutter, @opaque-puppet @ravenclawicecream, @ladyartemisia28, @awesome-and-unique-username

#sanders sides #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #logince #moxiety #you don't own me #my writing #abuse tw

62 notes · View notes

cursed-or-not · 3 years

Text

Merry Christmas @dreamnovak from your Secret Santa!! You’re truly, truly The Best and I’ve had sm fun writing for you <33 happy holidays to everyone!!

It’s a slow day at the Roadhouse, and the cold has crept in through the rickety doors and floorboards. Dean shivers behind the counter.

He thinks one day he’ll have to get around to fixing the insulation.

The air feels like snow.

Across the counter, Cas watches him intently.

“You look cold,” he says finally.

Dean shrugs. “Not too bad. Feels like it’s gonna snow, though.”

Cas’ head tilts in confusion. “How do you predict snow with just a feeling?”

Dean stares back at him, affronted. He couldn’t explain how, but he’s spent enough time driving around the Midwest to recognize the heaviness of the air and smell of an oncoming storm.

“It’s in the air, Cas! Don’t look at me like that. I know what it feels like before a storm.”

Cas seems to decide to back down.

“Well, I hope it’s a good thing,” he mumbles.

This time, it’s Dean’s turn to look puzzled.

“The snow?”

Cas nods.

“Jack decided to keep all four seasons. I believe he said something about maintaining authenticity.”

“It’s a good thing,” Dean assures him simply.

Cas barely nods in acknowledgement, eyes scanning the empty tables. Dean picks up on his gaze.

“If you really wanna fix something, it wouldn’t hurt for Jack to give me a few more customers,” Dean quips, knocking his knuckles on the counter where Cas sits alone.

“We can’t force people to support your business,” Cas grumbles. “I thought you believe in free will.”

“Woah, I was just saying it’d be nice,” Dean defends. He wonders if Cas can tell from his face that the comment elicited the exact response he’d been looking for. Dean has found over the last few months that there’s no one he’d rather banter with than Cas.

“Well, you might do better to attempt to attract customers on your own.” Cas says it so sincerely that Dean knows he’s just doing it to tease him.

“Hey!” Dean responds, making his voice as wounded as he can manage.

When Cas just smiles, Dean leans towards him, resting his elbows on the counter, and continues.

“I mean, at least I know there’s one customer I can always count on to show up,” Dean says with a smile.

“If you’re referring to me, I don’t come because of your incredible business practices,” Cas responds, and Dean can’t tell if it’s an insult to his work ethic or a compliment to his personality.

Dean decides to take whatever it means and push his luck.

“Yeah? What keeps bringing you back then?”

At that, Cas looks up, and any teasing is gone from his expression.

“You know the answer to that,” he says simply, and Dean can feel his face burning.

He’s been dancing around this every possible chance.

“Cas…” Dean says softly, eyes fixed firmly on the counter.

“Dean,” Cas echoes, and Dean can practically hear the sad smile behind that tone.

Dean risks a glance up, and Cas’ eyes are searching his face. Dean looks back down.

“It’s okay, you know” Cas says simply. Sincerely.

Dean lets out a breath.

Cas continues, “I know you need more time. I think it’s a testament to how much you’ve grown that you were even willing to tell me that much, and I appreciate your honesty.”

Dean shakes his head barely perceptibly.

“Hey,” Cas says gently, and his hand moves like he might reach out before it falls back. “It’s okay,” he repeats.

God. Sometimes Dean wishes Cas wouldn’t make everything seem so easy and so difficult at the same time. He wishes it didn’t always have to be so complicated with them.

He wishes Cas wouldn’t tell him that it’s okay when Dean is still struggling to work up the courage to be happy.

Dean looks up.

“It’s not,” Dean says, and Cas looks ready to object, so Dean just pushes forward.

“I mean, some of it is. I’m not saying I’m not worthy or I did something wrong, but I’m saying I didn’t do it like I should’ve and I--” Dean pauses, searching for whatever it is he wants to say. “I’m not sure it was fair to you,” he says carefully.

Cas’ expression softens.

“Dean,” he says, and he always manages to say Dean’s name like it’s more than it is. He always manages to put so much meaning into it. “I’ve waited my entire life-- a millenia-- for you. A few weeks is nothing.”

Dean feels like he’s had all the air knocked out of him. Before, he couldn’t look Cas in the eye, but now he can’t stop searching his face.

Dean takes a breath to steal himself, and he feels his resolve crumble. He reaches across the counter to catch Cas’ hand in both of his.

“I’m never gonna deserve you,” Dean tells him, and his throat feels almost too tight to get the words out.

“No,” Cas objects. “No. Dean, I meant every word I told you that night. Not just the ‘I love you,’” Cas says, and his voice is so fierce that Dean can’t help but look away. Cas’ other hand comes up to rest on Dean’s, too.

“You’re a hero, Dean,” Cas says simply. “And the best brother, father, and friend in this universe or any other. And,” Cas adds with a smile, “you’re an above-average bartender.”

“Above average, huh?” Dean asks, eyes still prickling with tears but chest less tight than before.

“The best of the mediocre,” Cas confirms, and Dean lets out a snort at the deadpan humor.

He lets the moment hang in the air for a moment before speaking up.

“Maybe I just need a good business partner,” Dean says slowly, watching Cas’ face carefully.

Cas waits for Dean to say more, and Dean supposes that’s fair; it’s his turn.

“I don’t… I don’t want to do this alone anymore,” Dean says, forcing his voice to sound more matter-of-fact than he feels. “None of it.”

Cas’ face softens again, looking impossibly fond.

“You always have me,” he says with such conviction that Dean chokes out what could pass as a laugh.

“Thanks, man.” He clears his throat. “Thank you. But, uh, I was thinking maybe we try to do things differently. Only if you want,” Dean says, heart pounding. He hopes Cas doesn’t feel his hands shaking.

“Differently?”

Dean shrugs, doing his best to look indifferent.

“As I said, I’m with you no matter what, but if you wanted to specify…” Cas trails off expectantly.

Dean clears his throat again, looking down to where his hands previously held Cas’.

“Differently, like, maybe we see each other more. Not just here, but-- dinner and stuff,” Dean finishes lamely.

Cas narrows his eyes.

“We already do eat dinner together sometimes.”

“You’re killing me, man,” Dean huffs a laugh before taking a deep breath and trying again. “Okay, so, maybe we also… live together?” Dean says nervously, risking only a quick glance to see Cas’ face.

“I’ve already lived with you, in the bun--”

“Cas, I’m trying to tell you I’m in love with you,” Dean snaps.

Cas’ eyes don’t leave Dean’s face as he responds with a simple, “Oh.”

“‘Oh?’ What the hell does ‘oh’ mean?!”

Cas almost looks amused.

“You already know I love you, too,” he points out, and Dean hates how rational a thing to say it is.

“Things could’ve changed,” Dean points out in a half-hearted attempt to defend himself.

‘They haven’t,” Cas says, and Dean can’t help but stare at him in wonder. “They won’t.”

“Yeah. Okay,” Dean says hoarsely. He wishes he could only blame the cold for the goosebumps on his arms.

“Thank you for talking to me,” Cas murmurs, and Dean feels himself melt at the softness of it.

Dean thinks he couldn’t have put this off any longer if he tried.

“Thank you for being… you,” Dean responds, and something in his chest aches at the fondness in the look Cas responds with.

Dean’s hand finds its way back to Cas’.

“You were right, you know,” Cas says suddenly, and Dean waits for him to specify. “It started snowing a couple minutes ago,” he mutters, and Dean laughs at the reluctant confession.

He looks out throught the fogged-up window, and the snowflakes swirl lazily downward. Circling and then falling.

“Guess that means you’re stuck with me for a little while,” Dean says with a smile.

Neither of them point out the fact that Cas has his wings back, nor does Dean acknowledge that the few flakes outside aren’t nearly enough to prevent anyone from driving.

“I guess I am,” Cas responds. He glances outside. “Through tomorrow too, I expect. Just in case the storm continues.”

Dean nods in mock solemnity. “Probably safest for you to stick with me for a month or so, actually. Maybe the next year or two. You never know with storms like this.”

They watch the snow keep coming. Cas squeezes Dean’s hand.

“Thank you, Dean,” he says, and Dean’s not quite sure what the gratitude is for, but he accepts it. He leans farther across the counter, squeezing Cas’ hand.

“You, too-- for everything. Thanks, Cas.”

“You still look cold,” Cas says suddenly, and Dean huffs a laugh.

“Well, guess you’ll have to keep me warm,” he responds smoothly.

“Until the storm’s over,” Cas agrees.

“Oh,” Dean says, pretending to check his watch as he leans in closer, “I think longer than that.”

Cas breathes into the small space between them, and then Dean bridges it.

Around them, the snow keeps falling.

Settling.

#I wanted to do smth w claire for you but i Could Not make it work so I'm really hoping this is okay!! and I'm sorry it's not much!!#but you're truly one of my favorite writers and ppl on here mae just so you know #I was both elated and terrified to find out I was your secret santa lol #spnfamsecretsanta #destiel #spn fanfic #supernatural #mine

289 notes · View notes

sevenmikento · 3 years

Note

Hello! May i please request a jjk hc or imagine where the mc is yuujis childhood friend that can see curses and has a powerful curse technique?? Yuuji knew since they were kids but kinda forgot about it cuz he didn’t really understood and mc never tried to bring it up again to keep him safe. And after coming to tokyo when the sukuna thing happened- yuuji recommended his bestfriend to gojo so they could study together. Thank you so much!! 💕💕

A/N: omg okay so i distinctly remember receiving this request while i was in bed reading angsty haikyuu fics and then i was hit with such a big brain idea for this that i made a draft of it bc i knew i would forget otherwise. also omg im so sorry but i made this a lot angstier than expected but it has a happy ending!! ;––;

genres: angsty with a fluffy ending, hurt/comfort; 1.5k words

come with me [Itadori Yuuji X Reader]

“You’re moving?” you repeat the words just spoken to you, unafraid to let the disappointment in your voice show as you feel your bottom lip begin to quiver and the back of your eyes burn up in tears. “To Tokyo? So suddenly?”

As if the news couldn’t get worse: first you learn that Grandpa Itadori passed away and now your only friend is leaving. Not to mention the fact that in between all of this, your high school got wrecked in some kind of freak incident–though you know better… the school had always reeked of cursed energy. You’ve even had to deal with some cursed spirits on your own volition before morning practices just because you could never stand them staring at you from the corner of the volleyball court.

“Wow, is it just me or did it get a lot less stuffy in here?” you overheard your senior saying once. You wish you could brag about it, about your heritage and your accomplishments as a Jujutsu Sorcerer but you can’t, not without putting yourself and the people–the person–you love in danger.

“You’re my only family left,” you can’t help but blurt out, hanging your head in shame. Ah, you think to yourself, this is bad, I’m starting to beg, aren’t I? This is dangerous territory. “I thought we promised… we…” You stop yourself from completing the sentence but you both know each other well to understand exactly what you’re referring to.

Your parents had always told you to keep your emotions in check, to ensure everything you feel is always under your control. Cry if you must, be angry if you cannot help it, but never allow your heart to rule your head.

At least that’s what they used to say a lot before they ended up cremated in urns too heavy for you to carry together at the same time. You were ten.

‘I’m the only (L/N) left,’ you thought to yourself, unaware you’d spoken out loud. You were also not aware of the boy who’d just entered the room, dressed in a black shirt a bit too big for him, his cheeks covered in dried tears.

“No,” he huffed, sitting down beside you. “I won’t let you be alone. You aren’t the last (L/N).” He said, completely misunderstanding what you’d meant. He wasn’t wrong but ultimately, you were more worried about your Jujutsu heritage linked to the name rather than the name itself. “When we get married, I’ll take your surname.”

You said ‘okay’, too young to understand the significance of marriage. All you cared about was that he was there and you weren’t alone.

Yuuji remains silent, an immense wave of guilt washing over his body, leaving behind a sensation that is both hot and cold at the same time. Although you continue to cry silently, your arms still move, helping him fold his clothes and place them neatly in his luggage. Your hands tremble in a way he hadn’t seen ever since that fateful day so many years ago–the day of the promise… The one he will have to break.

He wishes with all his heart that he can tell you about the events that have occurred over the past two days. He wants nothing more than to just hug you to his chest and spill all the secrets he’s been burdened to keep: the existence of cursed spirits, the attack on the school… his transformation into the vessel of Sukuna. The execution. The compromise Gojou sensei made for him. The hell he’s chosen for himself.

When the white-haired Sorcerer offered the two choices to him and asked Yuuji to choose his hell, he very ignorantly assumed that hell was knowing when he was going to die. But now, as he watches you bid him a tearful farewell while you wear the sweater he left behind for you–knowing that, even though he promised to visit, he probably will not have the chance to–Yuuji realises this is the real hell.

“Yuu-cchi, there’s a monster!” you cried, hiding behind the boy who was merely a few months older than you, your small hands clenching tightly onto the sleeves of his shirt. He gazes around and sees nothing.

“Where?” he asks, his own arms held out in a defensive stance, ready to take any hit from any monster coming to hurt you.

“There! There!” you continued to sob in such genuine fear that even though Yuuji himself couldn’t see the monsters, a part of him knew you weren’t lying. Though, to be frank, even if you weren’t scared, he would’ve believed you anyway.

“Don’t be afraid, (Y/N)! I will keep you safe!” he declared, waving his fists around madly. “Where is he! I’ll beat him up!”

Huh.

“What’re you so deep in thought about?” Fushiguro Megumi’s voice snaps him out of his reverie, the defeated cursed spirit’s corpse dissolving into ash right before their eyes.

“Yeah, what are you thinking of?” Gojou butts in, wrapping an arm around Yuuji’s shoulders. “You looked all happy and dopey for a second then became all sad and depressed the next. Friendship problems? Or–OH! Relationship troubles?”

“No, it’s just…” Yuuji mumbles.

“I can’t sleepover this weekend.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“My parents want me to train.”

“Train?”

“Yeah, they’re teaching me Juju—Judo.”

“Eh? That’s too bad.”

“Just?” Gojou pushes, realising he’s very likely on the cusp of discovering his new student’s deep, dark secret. For a second, he thinks it’s to no avail but before he knows it, Yuuji’s grasping his arms and looking him dead in the eye (eye? blindfold?).

“I think there’s someone I need you to meet.”

“Oh?”

You curse under your breath as you hear footsteps echo from the floors beneath you. Right now? The stupid local delinquents want to explore this stupid building right as you’re on the edge of exorcising a stupidly strong cursed spirit? You can’t help but laugh humourlessly at your luck nowadays. It seems as though ever since Itadori Yuuji left your life, you’ve been doing nothing but exorcise spirits. Maybe you’re just bored and have nothing to do or maybe you’ve become a magnet for spirits with your increased levels of cursed energy.

“I’ll visit you when I have the time,” he said. But you knew he was lying. Just by looking at his dumb face you could tell he never intends on coming back.

A bitter taste crawls up the back of your throat and the cursed spirit cackles, elated by the frustration emitting off of you. You just know that if you could read its mind, it’ll be thinking of how powerful it could become by consuming you.

“Not a chance, you fuck!” you snap, feeling the familiar sensation of warmth crawl up your body as you harness all of your cursed energy to both your hands. Blue flames ignite from the centre of your palms, as you utilise your cursed technique: “Hinokagatsuchi!”

You charge towards the cursed spirit, ready to melt its skull into nothingness when a familiar voice calls out your name.

“(Y/N)!” Yuuji’s fist reaches the spirit before your technique can, the force of his punch so immense that it slams the corpse of your foe into a wall, forming a crater of shattered concrete.

“Hinokagatsuchi, huh?” A man with stunningly white hair walks into the room. “Haven’t heard that one in a while. “Are you from the (L/N) clan, by any chance?”

Before you can respond, a pair of warm hands clasp your face firmly but with a notable tenderness. The same hands that Itadori Yuuji used to kill a cursed spirit with a single punch now cradled your head, his thumbs carefully caressing your cheeks.

“Are you okay? Did you get hit? Are you injured anywhere?” he frets, his fingers combing through your hair before he pulls you close, hugging you to his firm chest.

From behind you, the white-haired man whispers: “actually I think your friend had it very much under control.” But he goes ignored.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve realised it sooner. I should have told you everything.” Yuuji presses his lips to the crown of your head. “I… I should have come clean and it would have spared us both the pain.” He laughs humourlessly. “I feel like a real dumbass, not realising what you’ve been hiding all these years even after I get dragged into the Jujustu world myself.”

Everything is happening so quickly, you find yourself rendered utterly speechless. Is he really here? Did he just kill a cursed spirit with a single blow? How did that man know about your family?

Your hands slowly creep up his back as you wrap you arms around him and close your eyes, relishing in the warmth of his body and the familiarity of his scent. He hasn’t even been gone for more than a week and yet you feel as though a lifetime of loneliness had been cured with just his return.

“I love you…” you can’t help but admit, though you have a feeling it wasn’t very much of a secret to begin with.

“I love you, too,” Yuuji replies, kissing you on head once more. “Come with me. Come with me to Tokyo, to the same Jujutsu school. Teach me everything you know and become stronger with me.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk #itadori yuuji x reader #itadori yuuji #yuuji x reader #scenarios #imagines #fluff #angst #happy ending #hurt/comfort

361 notes · View notes

thewayofthemandalorian · 3 years

Text

all that you are to me - oneshot

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader Rating: M Word count: 3,224 Summary: After the Razor Crest crash lands on a frozen planet, you and Din must work together to try and fix the ship and stay warm. When the temperature drops, causing you to be near-hypothermic, Din must find a way to keep you warm. Notes: Like pretty to think, this one was inspired by this week’s episode of The Mandalorian, 2.02, “Chapter 10: The Passenger.” This one isn’t directly inspired by the episode, but rather is more lightly influenced by it. Even so, if you haven’t seen the episode, I’d advise waiting until watching to read this, even if it’s only ever so slightly inspired by a main plot point in the episode - just to be on the safe side. As always it will be under the cut. Warnings: Potential season 2 spoilers. Hypothermia, sharing body heat, mutual pining, implied/referenced sex.

Taglist: @dindjarindiaries @goldafterglow @frannyzooey @absurdthirst @catfishingmorales @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @hopelikethesun @forever-rogue @f0rever15elf @thewaythisis @marvel-and-mischief @seasonschange-butpeopledont @sin-djarin @ezrasarm @din-damn-djarin @opheliaelysia @pajamasecrets @mandohatesdroids @poenariuniverse @fioccodineveautunnale @fleetwoodmactshirts @auty-ren @profkenobi @storiesofthefandomlovers @ithinkwehitametaphor @yespolkadotkitty @cinewhore @wille-zarr @tangledlove27 @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @cryptkeepersoul @hayley-the-comet @clydesducktape @jaime1110 @computeringturtle @lovinglokiforever @justanotherblonde23 @sesamepancakes @phoenixhalliwell @giselatropicana @buckysalefty @fromthedeskoftheraven @paintballkid711 @ghostwiththemostbitch @revolution-starter @demigod-dragonrider-schoolidol @lilkermit14 @luvzoria @none-of-your-bullshit @sithkrispies @xserenax-13 @princess-and-pedro @dee-rosemary @kid-from-new-zealand @chibi-liz05 @dearspacepirates @mandolover86

masterlist || read on ao3 || taglist form

The ship was losing fuel - and fast. As you fluttered out of sleep, you heard Mando cursing to himself as the console blared.

You had been in the Mandalorian’s employ for the past year or so, and in that time, you had taken on many roles as he had needed you to - navigator, co-pilot, carer for the Child, an extra bounty hunter.

As you stirred, you noticed a pair of TIE fighters on either side of the Razor Crest.

“No, no, no, no,” muttered Mando, his voice panicked and frustrated through the modulator.

Clearing your throat to make yourself known, you said, “What’s going on? Where are we?”

Mando just grunted as he pushed an arbitrary button on the console. “We have to land on this planet, mesh’la. Get the drop on these Imps.” He was always calling you something in his language: Mesh’la, cyar’ika, cyare. You didn’t really know what they meant. Probably girl or something along those lines.

“What are they doing?” You shucked your blanket off, already missing its warmth as you stood to join Mando at the console. “Are they after the kid?” You glanced at the baby, who was still asleep in his pram, blissfully unaware of what was happening.

Mando grunted as the Crest shuddered mid-flight. “Kriff,” he swore. “I think so. They got the jump on me about half an hour ago. I damaged one of the TIE fighters enough so that now there’s only two instead of three.”

You nodded. “What can I do?”

There was a jolt and the Razor Crest fell from the sky. A planet came into view.

“Hold on!” Mando says as a TIE fighter shoots a nearly fatal blast on the Crest.

There was a lurching jolt, giving no chance for you to get back to your seat. You lost your footing, landing in Mando’s lap. Instinctively - it must have been instinctively, right? - one of his gloved hands reached out to anchor around your hip, holding you steady as he attempted to fire back at the Imps from where the Razor Crest had landed with a crash.

Ignoring the thrill of sitting in Mando’s lap, you held your breath as the Crest gunned down the two TIE fighters. Now that Mando had the right vantage point - able to shoot them from where they were in the sky - it was easy work for the bounty hunter. A few minutes later, you heard the two fighters crash a few miles away.

From behind you, the child woke up, thoroughly displeased at the whole situation, about being rudely awakened. You forced yourself from Mando’s lap - though you desperately wished to stay seated there - to check on the baby.

“That wasn’t very nice, was it sweetheart?” you cooed gently to the baby. He gurgled in response, looking up at you reproachfully. “Your dad and I are trying to figure it out.”

The child’s father had started pressing buttons on the console again. The ship made a sputtering sound and then powered down. A frustrated sigh escaped the modulator. “Kriff,” Mando said again.

“That didn’t sound good,” you said, taking in the planet. It was an ice planet, though which one, you couldn’t be sure. “Where are we?” you asked as Mando pressed at buttons on the console with futility. The Crest wasn’t going anywhere without repairs.

“Nowhere good,” rasped Mando. “And if I can’t get the Crest up and running, we’ll surely freeze here.”

Your blood ran cold at his words. Freezing to death was not what you signed up for. “Chances we can get it working?” you asked, trying to keep your voice neutral, even.

Mando grunted. He wasn’t sure. “Come outside, cyare, help me take a look.”

Bundling the child in your blanket - he may have had special powers, but you weren’t taking any risks at getting him cold - you followed the Mandalorian outside into the cold.

* * *

You had been interested in the stoic, soft-spoken Mandalorian bounty hunter for some time, now. You weren’t sure if you could call it love - not yet anyway - but it was very much like. It was hard to tell if Mando reciprocated your feelings given that you were unable to read his face, hiddden away behind the helmet.

There were many nights where you dreamt of what his face might look like. You had seen what his skin looked like once or twice before when he had asked you to help him cauterize wounds or stitch him up, so you knew that he had tan skin.

You imagined that he had brown hair, dark eyes. Perhaps not as dark as the baby’s, but no less expressive. Did he have a beard, or was he clean-shaven? That part you were unclear of.

How funny it was to you that you had fallen for a man whose face you had never seen.

You knew he at least liked you. Well enough to keep you in his employ. And he trusted you well enough to take care of the baby, the one person who mattered to him more than anyone else. Mando seemed to value your opinion, and at the very least, enjoyed conversation with you. That is, when he was in the mood for conversation.

The one thing that threw you off the most about Mando after his helmet, with its blank expression, was the words he called you in the Mandalorian language. Before meeting him on Nevarro, you had never heard it spoken. While you could tell based on the cadence in his voice when Mando was swearing, you didn’t know what he meant when he called you mesh’la or cyar’ika.

He hadn’t always called you those things. At first he usually didn’t use any word to address you, sometimes he would call you by your name, but about three or four months ago, he had started calling you those words. You liked them, even though you didn’t know what they meant.

At some point, he would either figure out that you had feelings for him, or you would tell him. For right now, you needed to focus on getting off this planet with your lives.

* * *

“Can you pass me that wrench, sweet girl?” asked Mando as you stood by, baby securely in the carrier bag that was slung across your shoulder.

Sweet girl. That was new. Schooling your expression, you handed him the tool. “What exactly are you doing, Mando?” you asked, trying to ignore the electricity flowing through your veins at being called sweet girl by him.

Mando grunted as he reached into the bowels of his ship. “Improvising,” he grated out. You shivered. “Cold, cyare?” he asked, concern lacing his voice.

Fighting the shiver from your voice, you said, “A little bit.”

“I can practically see the cold radiating off you.” A shudder ran through you. With the sun setting quickly, it wouldn’t be too long before the temperature plunged even further down. Mando pulled his hand out from the inside of the ship. “Hopefully that does it. I don’t think we should be out here for much longer. You’re practically frozen solid, and the kid looks like he’s about to freeze, too.” The baby cooed at Mando.

Your voice shuddered as you spoke. “Y-you’re one t-t-to t-talk. Your he-helmet’s got f-fr-frost on it.”

Mando sighed, noticing the sun sinking further and further below the horizon; it wouldn’t be long before it was completely set. “If this doesn’t work, we’ll shut ourselves in the cockpit, get cozy and try again when the sun comes up.”

You nodded, fighting off another shiver. The temperature was already much colder than it had been when you set outside forty-five minutes ago.

“Come on, cyar’ika, let’s go inside. With any luck, that did the trick.” Mando didn’t sound optimistic.

Setting the child in his pram - he had fallen asleep instantly - you stood beside Mando’s seat as he flipped some switches on the console. The Crest sputtered, coughed, and died down again within fifteen seconds. Mando sighed. “Okay. So, it looks like we’re stuck here for tonight. There’s one thing that might work that we haven’t tried, but I don’t wanna risk going back outside tonight. It’s too cold. Find as many blankets as you can, tonight we’re huddling together.”

So many thoughts crossed your mind as you heard what Mando said. “O-okay,” you said, your tongue thick in your mouth. You knew he meant sharing blankets and staying close together.

* * *

You were freezing. Even though you had four blankets and not a single inch of skin beneath your chin was exposed to the cold air, you couldn’t stop shivering. You were almost warm from the cold air.

Mando, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be bothered at all. He had stripped his beskar off, leaving only his helmet in place. His tunic looked warm and cozy. He looked cozy, you corrected yourself. If he was cold, he didn’t complain. As you lay on the bedrolls that you and Mando had set up, your lips chattered together.

All of a sudden, the warmth returned. “Oh, this is nice,” you said as your body warmed up.

“Mesh’la?” Mando’s voice sounded from somewhere beside you. He sounded very far away. You hummed. “Your body temperature is dropping.” You could feel another piece of material being wrapped around you. Mando’s cape.

“No ‘m fine, Mando. Very warm. Might go to sleep,” you sighed.

Mando was suddenly above you. “No, cyare,” he said, his voice urgent. “We need to warm your core temperature up. Otherwise you might die.”

Maker knew he didn’t want you to die, not without you knowing how he truly felt.

“Silly Mando,” you said, drifting closer to sleep’s warm embrace.

“We need to huddle together,” said Mando. “Sharing body heat will warm you up.”

Before you could protest, he had taken his tunic off.

Mando had a tattoo on his chest. He had a few, the more you looked. They looked good.

“Thank you,” his modulated voice said, amusement trickling through. Huh? Oh, you had said that last bit out loud, you realized.

Shutting your eyes as Mando eased you up to take your own tunic off, you felt the heat radiating off of him. You always knew he would be a human furnace.

When the two of you were stripped down to nothing, Mando slipped into the bedroll beside you. “Keep your eyes closed?” he asked.

Nodding, you said, “Mmm-hmmm.” A few seconds later the room was shrouded in darkness; a hissing sound filled the cockpit.

“It’s dark enough, cyare, you don’t need to keep your eyes shut anymore,” he said. His voice sounded different.

Had he…? “Is your helmet off?” you asked. It was a stupid question, you could feel his stubble pressed against your skin.

It wasn’t long before you started to warm up, for real this time. Mando’s heat combined with your own made you feel much warmer, for a few reasons.

“Mando,” you whispered, your eyes still shut. “What if we die?”

Mando shushed you. “Put the question from your mind, sweet girl. We’re not going to die. I won’t let it happen.” His voice was so warm, so tender. You wished you could see his face.

You shifted in his strong embrace so that you were facing him. Reaching out blindly, you touched his face. He was smiling slightly, you realized as your fingers brushed his lips. He pressed his lips to your fingers, grazing them slightly with his kiss. “Sweet girl,” he whispered. “How good you are. The way you take care of me and the kid. How mesh’la - beautiful you are. Your kindness.”

“Mando,” you replied, your own voice quiet.

Before you could say anything else, Mando interrupted you. “It’s Din.” You frowned, not sure what that meant. Mando continued. “My name. It’s Din Djarin.”

It suited him, you thought.

“It suits you,” you said. You were still in disbelief that this was happening. You shivered again, but not from the cold air.

Feeling brave, you pressed your lips against his. You missed slightly, catching the corner of his mouth instead of full-on. Din righted you, slotting his lips against yours more properly.

Although Din didn’t have much experience kissing, you assumed, he was still very thorough. His arms tightened against you, pulling you closer to him. How that was possible when you were literally skin to skin already, you weren’t sure.

He pulled away from your lips, catching his breath. “Sweet girl. You don’t know what you do to me,” he said, his voice ragged with emotion.

You kissed him again, quickly. “I think I do. Because you do the same to me.”

Din stroked your back as he kissed you again, moaning at the feeling of your fingers coming up to knot in his hair. It was so soft, his hair. It curled a little at the nape of his neck.

“Warm me, Din Djarin,” you whispered as he pulled you on top of him.

Nipping the skin just beneath your ear, Din whispered, “Don’t worry, dear thing, I’ll keep you warm.”

* * *

You were definitely not cold anymore. As you lay sprawled across Din’s chest, you could hear his steady heartbeat, just beneath one of his tattoos.

“What are you thinking, cyare?” he asked, his chest rumbling against your ear with the vibration of his voice.

You smiled. “Just how nice this is.”

Mando hummed in agreement. “It is. I’ve wanted to tell you for a while how I felt, but seeing you almost freeze to death put my plans into hyperdrive.” He stroked your back as he spoke.

“Me, too. I’m glad you noticed that I was nearly hypothermic. For a number of reasons,” you said, pressing a kiss to his chest in gratitude.

“I wouldn’t have let my girl die on me,” Mando said softly. Your heart fluttered at the implications of his words.

After a moment’s silence, filled only by the soft snores that filtered through the child’s closed pram (thank the Maker it was soundproof on the inside).

“You are, right?” Mando’s voice was quiet, hesitant, giving you pause. “You are my girl, right?”

You propped yourself up on an elbow, looked in what you assumed was the direction of his eyes, wondering vaguely if he could see you. “For as long as you’ll have me, Din.” You kissed him clumsily, still unable to see him.

As you settled back against him, you yawned. “We should sleep, Din. We had a long day today, and I can only imagine what tomorrow will bring.”

Before you could go to sleep, Din spoke. “Join me and the kid in the sleep compartment. You don’t have to sleep in that awful makeshift cot anymore.”

Nodding sleepily against his chest, you said, “That sounds nice.”

“You rest, cyare. I’ll keep you warm.”

* * *

The following morning, you woke up to the press of Din’s lips to your temple. It was still dark in the cockpit. You weren’t too sure what time it was, but it was early.

“Morning,” you said groggily, reaching out to touch Din’s cheek, making sure that last night was real, that it had really happened the way you remembered it. The ache between your legs was confirmation enough, but it was nice to touch Din’s face.

“Are you warm enough?” asked Din, running a hand over your hairline, his touch feather light.

You leaned up to kiss him. “Mmm. I could always stand to be warmer.”

Sparing a glance to check that the kid was still asleep, Din was upon you in seconds, doing everything he could to make sure you were warm enough and also knew that he was with you in every sense of the word.

You could get used to this.

One day, perhaps, you would see his face, finally be able to know the colour of his eyes, his soft hair.

“Better?” he asked, just as the baby started to stir. Din reached blindly for his helmet.

One day, you thought, he might let you see his face. And when he was ready to, so would you.

Bundling back up, you and Din worked in tandem, just fixing the Razor Crest enough so that it would take off and get you to Corellia where it could be properly fixed by someone who knew what they were doing.

It was still frigid, but in the sun, it was just bearable compared to the end of the day yesterday. Just as you were starting to fully feel the chill of this planet’s atmosphere, Din was able to power up the ship.

“Let’s go, cyare,” called Din from the cockpit. "I want to get out of here before this ship dies on us."

You didn’t need to be told twice. You bounded up the ramp, shutting it behind you.

Setting the baby in his pram, you gave him an extra blanket again to warm up before sitting in the passenger’s seat.

“After the ship is repaired, let’s go somewhere warm,” you teased as the Crest took off.

Din turned to look at you, his helmet expressionless, his voice full of promise. “Oh, don’t you worry about being warm, cyar’ika, I never break a promise.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x you #mando x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 2 #the mandalorian season 2 spoilers #pedro pascal character fanfiction

471 notes · View notes

chaoticpuff17 · 4 years

Text

Something Wicked

part 1

masterlist

Hello darlings! Here it is the first chapter of Something Wicked! A huge thank you to you all for the encouragement and a special thankyou to @36impala for putting up with my whiny ass and keeping me on track. Love you all! I hope you enjoy!--- chaotic puff.

Kim Seokjin was a successful man, a powerful man, which was why for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out how this had happened? How could his charms not work against her? How could she ignore his advances? He was handsome, rich, charming, everything a woman could want, everything every other woman did want. What was wrong with her? How could she refuse him? Didn’t she realize she was his? His precious darling?

This was what Kim Seokjin contemplated as he looked out of his office window and out towards the desk where his personal assistant sat proper as ever. Jin sighed to himself looking over the woman who had completely overtaken his thoughts. She was soft and demure, and the only assistant who had lasted more than a month with him. In the four years she’d worked for him, she had only ever been the epitome of efficiency. She knew his routines, his likes, his dislikes, and how to expertly field the calls he didn’t want to deal with. She was perfect.

He’d been flirting with her from the start. How could he not? She was very pretty and he? He was world wide handsome. It was his duty to flirt with the pretty women of the world and be worshiped in return, but she only ever met his advances with a polite smile and a redirection to more professional topics. It had only been in the past year or so that he had begun to seriously try to woo her, and yet she still remained unmoved.

She refused every invitation for lunch, every invitation to join him for coffee in the afternoons. She refused to join him for dinner. How could she not see that they were perfect for each other? What other woman was so well suited to his needs? She had been molded to perfection by his own hands, but she was either too naïve or too stupid to realize that it seemed. His poor stupid darling. If she couldn’t see it on her own, he would just have to make her see it.

“Y/N-ie…” He called out his voice more of a croon than anything demanding. He watched amused as she sighed to herself rising from her desk to come to him. Such a good girl for him, always coming when he called.

“Yes, sajangnim?” She asked entering the room and bowing politely. Such good manners, he noted pleased.

“Y/N-ie,” He cooed leaning forward on his desk flashing her a dazzling smile. “I’m thirsty. Bring tea for two won’t you, darling?”

Y/N smiled suppressing a sigh. She was long used to her boss’ flirtatious behavior and chose to ignore it. “I’ll bring the tea right away, sajangnim.” She agreed bowing again before leaving the room to fulfill his request.

The smile immediately fell as soon as she was out of sight replaced with a light scowl as she went to prepare tea just the way he liked it. If there was one thing she had learned in her time with Kim Seokjin it was that he was picky and demanded perfection from everyone around him. Everything had to be done just so for him. After all how could one provide anything less to the self-proclaimed world wide handsome?

She rolled her eyes at the thought. It wasn’t a secret that her boss was overwhelmingly arrogant. Everyone who worked for him knew that. It was painstakingly obvious to anyone who lived or worked in close proximity to the man. It was taxing, but at the very least he paid well. If he didn’t she would have quit after the first week with him, but somehow she had managed to survive four years as his personal assistant. It was the single most pitied position in the entire building. Everyone knew how demanding he was. The brunt of those demands was taken by whatever poor soul was his assistant. Not even the entire team of secretaries devoted to him got it quite as badly as his personal assistant did.

She was in charge of everything. His meals, his work schedule, his social calendar, everything. She was even the one that had to field the calls from his paramours and send out what seemed to be an endless stream of flowers, and sometimes jewelry depending on how much he liked the lady in question. As a result she knew far more about his personal life than she would have liked to.

Another one of the secretaries found her in the kitchen fixing the tea as well as arranging the ridiculously overpriced cookies that their boss preferred on a plate.

“Is it that time of the afternoon already?” Hana asked arching a brow.

“Every afternoon like clockwork.”

They both laughed lightly both knowing how exasperating their boss could be, but at least he was consistently exasperating. “Did he ask you to join him again?”

“Of course.”

“And you’re going to bring him tea for one.”

“As always.” She agreed flashing a bright smile at the other woman. “He doesn’t pay me enough to sit and have tea with him.”

Hana hummed in agreement grabbing herself a cup of coffee. “I don’t know how you do it. He’s always so… him.”

“You mean world wide handsome?” She laughed framing her face with her hands and flashing a scrunchy smile before dropping the pose and rolling her eyes. “It is what it is. I won’t be working her forever, and I can put up with him till then.”

Hana’s eyes widened in horror. “You’re not allowed to leave us. He’s going to be completely insufferable if you leave!”

“Well I’m not quitting now. I have to save up for a wedding, for a life outside of this office.”

“Is Min Seok going to propose?” Hana asked excitedly nearly dropping her cup of coffee.

“I hope so.” She smiled blushing slightly. “We’ve been dating for over a year, and it seems like he’s been hinting at it.”

“Can I come to the wedding?”

“If there is a wedding, you can definitely come.” She laughed pouring the tea into the china that was specially set aside for the boss.

“Isn’t he trying for that position in Busan?” She asked sipping at her coffee.

She sighed frowning slightly. “He is, but we haven’t heard anything.”

“If he gets it will you go with him?”

Min Seok was a good guy, an amazing guy, but they hadn’t discussed the logistics of what would happen if he took the position in Busan. Her life was in Seoul, and as of yet, he hadn’t asked her to go with him. While Y/N was a patient woman by nature, not knowing was making her antsy.

“I suppose we’ll figure that out when he gets the job.” Her smile was dimmed now as doubts nagged at the back of her mind. “Now I should get this to him.”

“Good luck, Y/N-ssi. You know how annoyed he gets when you ignore him.” Hanna shuddered before taking another sip of her coffee.

“It’ll be fine. The worst he can do is fire me.” She shrugged picking up the tray and heading back to the CEO’s office pasting on a bright smile before she entered.

“I have your tea, sajangnim.”

He looked at her from his position on the sofa where he had been waiting for her. He did this every day. He’d send her for tea for two and move to the sofa to wait for her. The expression dropped into a pout noting the fact that there was only one cup on the tray. There was always only one cup on the tray. “I thought I requested tea for two?”

“I don’t think that would be appropriate, sajangnim.” She bowed keeping her smile in place before she set the tray down on the table only to jerk back when Jin’s fingers brushed against hers. She tried to cover up her mistake by making her smiler brighter. Jin could never know that she was uncomfortable with him. She hated whenever he touched her. It somehow made her feel dirty especially as she knew his history with women.

“How many times do I have to ask you to call me Jin?” He scolded his mood darkening even though he kept on a mask of playful congeniality as he watched her retreat taking a cautious step backward admiring the way her skirt hugged her hips. God, he loved those tight little pencil skirts of hers.

“One more time, as always, sajangnim.”

He asked her at least once a day for her to speak to him informally, and she always refused. While he refused to keep the lines of their relationship professional, she did all she could to keep those boundaries in place. Referring to him by title was one of the ways she did that. Kim Seokjin was not a man she was overly interested in knowing. She knew too much about him already.

While she was annoyed by his lack of formality, Jin found himself annoyed with her refusal to comply with his wishes. It was one more thing he would have to fix before she became truly perfect. She would get there eventually. It would just take a little more effort on his part.

“It’s just a name, darling.” She had to fight back a cringe at the endearment. She was by no means his darling, and it was a constant source of discomfort for both her and Min Seok. “Just one little name.”

“I don’t think it would be appropriate.” There was a slight tick in her jaw at his jaw at her words. His poor darling, ever the polite little thing, so warm and caring.

He loved how warm she was, the soft scent of roses that wafted from her. It was her favorite perfume. The one she wore most often, and a gift from him. The French perfume had been given under the guise of a birthday gift. It made him practically bristle with pride to know that she wore it. It had taken ages for him to get her to accept the gift. He loved the scent on her, a constant reminder that she was his.

“Please, enjoy your tea.” She bowed again turning to leave the room.

“Oh, and darling?” He called out watching her closely as she turned to face him again standing to meet her placing a hand on the small of her back. “I need you to escort me to the ballet next Saturday evening.”

He expected immediate acceptance of his invitation, but was instead met with a look of shock and confusion as she recoiled from his touch stealing her warmth from him.

“The what? You don’t have any social events on your calendar for next Saturday.” She was running through her schedule in her head, and she still couldn’t recall any mention of the ballet on it. She tried to hide her discomfort by fixing her smile again though the expression was more nervous than she expected.

“The Russian ballet is visiting.” He explained. “I’ll be attending next Saturday evening with you by my side.”

“I’m sorry sir, but I can’t.” It was becoming harder and harder to maintain her smile as she faced him.

His brows furrowed, his own smile falling at her refusal. “It wasn’t a request, darling.” His dark eyes glittered as he watched her, daring her to refuse him again before he placed a pout on his lips. “You wouldn’t want me to be lonely at the ballet would you?”

“I’m very sorry sir, but I really can’t. I would be happy to arrange for the lady of your choice to accompany you though.”

“You are the lady of my choice.” His eyes grew more and more stormy the more she refused him. No one refused Kim Seokjin.

“I don’t think it would be appropriate for either of us, sajangnim.”

“We’ve been working together for four years now, Y/N. I thought we would be closer by now.” He pouted voice low bordering on a growl but not quite there.

“I don’t think my boyfriend would approve of my accompanying you to this event.” She bowed again smile strained hoping that he would drop it now that she had given him a reason why she couldn’t go with him. “I’m very sorry for any inconvenience this causes you.”

She bowed again before scurrying out of the room leaving a fuming Kim Seokjin behind her.

How could she refuse him in favor of another man? Didn’t she know who he was? When had she even gotten a boyfriend? He kept her so busy. When did she even have the time to date? Who was dumb enough to date his girl, his darling? Hadn’t he made it clear to everyone that she was his? Didn’t she realize she was his? Yes, he had his dalliances while he waited for her to come around, but she was above such things. She was his.

He picked up his phone calling one of his bodyguards. “I need everything you can dig up on Jang Y/N and the man she’s been seeing. Now.” He ordered voice a low growl.

For three years, he had kept tabs on her, but she was such an angel, his perfect angel, nothing ever turned up. He’d had his men stop gathering information on her, clearly a mistake on his part. He sighed trying to calm himself. It wasn’t his darling’s fault. He’d been lax. He’d turned his attention away from her, and she’d gone running to another man to make up for it, his poor stupid darling. It was something he intended to remedy immediately.

His gaze locked on the woman sitting outside at her desk fixated on the gentle slope of her neck as she looked over some papers. Yes, he would remedy his mistake post haste.

part 2

#bts #bts fic #yandere bts #bts jin #bts seokjin #yandere seokjin #ceo seokjin #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin x reader #yandere jin #yandere #ceo #ceo au #dark romance #something wicked

602 notes · View notes