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deberiaestarescribiendo · 2 years

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UNHOLY Dave York x F!Reader Fanfic

Summary: Dave York has always been a very clean man, sharp as the tools he uses to kill the targets, firm on his morals, even if that’s contradictory for a contract killer. But since he saw her, entering a mysterious club after a job, his life has been shaken.

Obliously it was an idea that came to me after listening to Unholy by Sam Smith in a loop. I had to write for the daddiest of daddies

Sharing is caring, if you like it, please reblog or leave a comment. The only way more people can enjoy the content being created in tumblr is by reblogging. Thank you. Please read the warning before. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT.

Warnings: infidelity, mentions of blood, violence, sex, drugs. Dave is kind of a stalker even if the reader is into it. But I understand it can be triggering to some. Descriptive Sex in general.

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He has always been a clean man. Keep himself neat, freshly shaven every morning, punctual, sharply dressed. Maybe it was the military in him, still constricting him in those

routines.

But lately he’s restless, he doesn’t sleep and he wakes up sweating, throat dry and thirsty. He runs, music blasting on his ears. Runs until his calves burn and his chest hurts when breathing deeply. And yet he feels it, can’t get rid of it.

Daddy

He feels dirty.

It got out of her lips so softly, breathly, she had stopped biting the silk of the pillow where it left a damp spot where her mouth was. He had never particularly liked it. The acting, the fake words, he didn’t indulge in those fantasies. If he ever thought about it, it turned him off rather than enticing. But hers was different

Her skin was soft under his hands, hard hands grabbing the curves of flesh on her hips while he clashed his body into her, again and again and again. He couldn’t get his eyes out of it. Her tight, warm cunt took him whole, her lips stretching around him. Both of their skins were dampened by their pleasures and sweat. It was engraved on his brain. Burn in there.

He carried it like the scarlet letter. A for Adulterous, red and throbbing, as his cock got every morning thinking about her. Begging him to be back, to commit more unholy things.

And he had never been a very close man to his morals, his career being full of sins, carried by the Government or privately. He couldn’t be a religious man, a pious one, and in that he didn’t feel shame for things he did. His job gave his family a good life, that was the most important thing.

He had never lied to them, well, he omitted most parts. But never lied.

The crude truth of his life was painted by euphemisms, in half sentences he never finished, veiled by the conviction they were safer if they didn’t know. So he felt good about omitting it.

But she was different

Daddy, please harder

He ran faster, harder. His feet slamming on the park’s pavement.

Please please

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Eden didn't advertise itself.

Only the people that knew it had its location. It had the right unassuming appearance from outside and the right hidden spot in town. Around old construction buildings close to the docks, nobody went there at night.

In the dark, nobody noticed the cars stopping and the various types of people that get out of them looking for something.

Dave didn’t know what it was.But the target came here…too much.It’s the routine that kills them, the patterns they draw around their lives that create a very specific time, a very specific place to die. No fate or God.

He recognised the type of place. These people always came to one of those secret places that hid their guilty pleasures, either drugs, sex, gambling, or a combination of all. The trade for flesh wasn't his thing, at least not the one that's related to pleasure. His flesh business was not about the pleasure one can get from one's own body and the bodies of others. His, was related to the mortality of it, its expiring date. Every name he got had always a fastly doom date. He didn't take pleasure out of it. It was cold and matter-of-factly. Money and death. Simple.

He entered the place casually, it seemed like his brain had been left behind as the target’s one was splattered over his car seat. He got the card out of his still warm hand and entered.

Since his younger years, when the boys from the base got out for a few days like wolves, and they dragged him to the cheapest strip club, he had never been back to a place like that.

But this one was not cheap. It was luxurious and decadent. So many types of bodies, people from all genders and races. Creating a canvas of human flesh and lust.

Huge spider lamps, crystals floating in the air,the workers flowed around the tables and the red velvet sofas, engaging in drinks that spilled on the ground, laughter and moans mixed with the music.

She caught his eye almost immediately. She danced around, her hips drawing circles. She got the eyes of many on her, the bills falling around her like confetti. She kneeled sometimes to get a few on her thong or on the straps of her bra.

Her body shone on the pink light in glitter and sweat and Dave felt a need to lick her and taste her.

Just leave the girl a few bills and go

He thought. She was mesmerizing indeed. Playfully, she took off her bra and dropped her body to the bit of the music he didn’t know. She laid down on her stomach at the end of the song, the costumers eager to leave her some more tips in the thin straps of her thong.

He approached casually, a dollar bill on his hand, he reached for her and she curved her body like a cat, watching him, eyes piercing him like she could read his thoughts. Weren’t everybody’s the same? Why single him like that?

Everybody in that room wanted to touch her, kiss her…

Thank you, she said, her makeup was strong on the eyes, glitter on her pupils and her false lashes, lips glossy like a cherry.

He stood there like an idiot, until she left. Her flesh jiggled with the dollar bills falling down from her.

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Second time, he couldn’t say it was just out of curiosity. He willingly decided to go. To enter Eden and look for her.

He had been imagining her for days. Her skin shining under the pink light, her eyes watching him, piercing him. Her body just for him, under his arms.

But again, when she was dancing, people were around her already. He sat at the back. She went out to dance every half an hour, turning for the various scenes until he completely understood the system. He was being creepy, and drinking much more of what he should.

By the time she finished the last scene, she disappeared. And after an hour he left. Defeated, feeling pathetic. The mid-forties crisis had finally hit him hard. Running to strip clubs in the middle of the night to watch a stripper girl half her age.

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The third time he arrived early, a Monday, the club was way calmer, even the music was softer. He had a whiskey in his hand. The lights shone in his golden ring and the amber liquid.

You're lonely

She appeared out of nowhere. He had looked for her, going around every pole to see if it was her dancing, Dave had resigned himself and told himself not to ask about her, he didn't want to look like a stalker.

That time she wore black lingerie and a soft transparent gown above it. Her make up was not as dramatic, but her skin still shined and from that distance he could smell her. Something sweet and fruity mixed with the oil from the pole.

She sat next to him, hands under her chin, observing him. He didn't say a word for a bit, and when he saw her doubting. Her long heels clicking on the stool to get up and leave…

" Yes" he finally answered

"Let me keep you company then"

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The conversation was full of lies. They knew it. She made up a name, a life. She pursed her lips every time she had to make something up, like a little mischievous smile.

The thing is Dave didn't lie. For days he had been lying about where he went.

"I kill people for a living"

She laughed out loud

"Okay, does it make a good living?" she moved her finger over her cocktail’s glass

"Yes, it does"

"How much does it cost?" she drank a bit, her eyes didn’t leave him for a second

"That depends "

" On what?"

"How and how many resources are needed "

"What if you had to kill me?" Dave noticed how she pressed her thighs, her feet slightly touching his leg

"Why would I do that?"

"I don't know, imagine" she shrugged

"You would be cheap"

She laughed out loud "ouch, you're calling me cheap?" she pressed one hand over her chest

"No, as I said. It's the matter of how and resources. You won't cost much so I don't have to charge much"

"I don't think so. This club is very secure and nobody knows me…not really"

"And yet I entered here, without being invited previously with a card which isn't mine"

"Still I could be any other girl"

"Maybe"

"You wouldn't be able to find me if I ran"

"Maybe not immediately"

"How long would it take?"

"Give it 3 days"

"Alright, three days" she drank the rest of her cocktail and extended her hand. He shook it.

She left her scent on him, the glitter stuck on him. Small shiny particles on his skin even he washed his hands, once, twice.

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She danced with her eyes always searching on their faces.Usually she didn’t care, they were a blur, a blur of hungry people. She left them with the fantasy. She was not real, nor them. Eden was a dream. A dream of freedom and pleasure without shame, and then they got out of here to the dim world.

She didn’t know why he stood out. He was wearing all black, jeans and a hoodie. Usually Eden’s residents came wearing their best clothes, the place was a cause for celebration. He stood out like a sore thumb, but yet nobody noticed, just her. He did not move at first and when he put the bill on her, she trembled but she fixed her eyes on his. Dark, wide eyes, striking features.

There were beautiful people on Eden, even if beauty was not the point of the place or even required. And she didn’t care, she knew the beauty or the lack of it didn’t mean a thing here. She was protected, but people could step out of line really fast no matter how angelical they may look on the outside. And she didn’t engage with any customer because it could get ugly, even if she found somebody attractive, she didn’t risk it.

But him. There was something in his eyes…he made her feel naked, seen even under all that fantasy, glitter and drama that surrounded Eden. Even if she was almost naked, his eyes were like knives carving over skin, muscle, blood, bones and marrow. Until it was only her.

She had seen him coming a few times, but he never approached, he never asked for her privately. When she saw him alone one day, she decided that it should be her that approached him.

She didn’t believe a thing men said in here. She knew what she was to them, so she lied too. Built up their fantasy. But for a moment, she believed him.

Three days. He hadn’t appeared in three nights. So maybe he was full of bullshit.

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She put her feet in cold water with a sigh. After the shower, she calculated the bruises looking at her naked body in the mirror. It was late at night or early hours in the morning, when somebody knocked on her apartment's door. She didn’t wait for anyone, nobody even knew about her house, her real life.

She threw in a bathrobe and opened the door.

��You gave me three days,” he said. He wore similar clothes to the first night he saw him “I must admit it took me a little bit longer” he pronounced her name, her real name.

it gave her goosebumps. It should be bad, it should be a warning. And yet she opened the door, leaving him enough space to enter.

“And now what?” she whispered "are you going to kill me?"

"No"

He entered the apartment and closed the door.

"I have no reason to do it" her back was against the wall, her chest breathing in and out deeply, waiting.

"Yet you are here, what for?"

"Honestly? I don't know either" he smiled briefly, almost shyly

"So is it true?" She asked "you kill people for a living or you're just crazy?" She knew she was playing with fire, if he was indeed a murderer or a mad man, how could this night end right for her?

"I'm pretty sure the first one is true. Of the second I'm beginning to think it's also true"

He approached her. His hands were covered in black leather gloves, he took the one on his right hand off.

“Why?”

He touched his naked hand, passing his thumb over his skin.

“I kept washing my hand to get it out, that glitter from your skin”

“I’m sorry” she mumbled

“I washed it until my skin was red,” his gaze was fixed on his hands, like he was talking to himself rather than her “I thought if I didn’t see them, I wouldn’t think about you so often” he did then look at her. Those dark eyes she’d been chasing on the crowd, finally connecting to hers.

“I thought about you too”

“What did you think?” he finally touched her, his hand landing over the bathrobe’s belt

“About you finding me. I tried to see if you came back”

He smirked listening to her admit it, and her breathy voice and how her body pulsed to get closer to him. He lowered his hand passing softly in between the layers of the bathrobe to touch her sex.

“This excites you, me chasing you, coming to your house late at night, a complete stranger” His index finger parted her lips, he marveled at how soft she was, warm and slick, he found no resistance to enter her.

“Yes”

She didn’t have to confess, her body was already speaking. But she couldn’t stop. Any alarm her rational brain had activated was long gone when he undressed her.

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Finding her was simple. Just a few clicks on his computer. What took three days was his inner struggle. He shouldn’t do it. Her name and address stood there on his desk for a long time. Even then he had waited outside her house for hours. He climbed the apartment building and knocked on the door thinking he could just show her that he did what he promised and then go.

Why are you doing this?

He had a desperate need for her to see him. All of him. And he needed to see her, to be buried inside of her and look deeply at those eyes that had been pierced on his brain for days.

She was different at this hour. No exaggerated makeup, a simple white bathrobe, tired eyes. She was scared at first but there was something, maybe curiosity, maybe lust.

When he confessed he felt liberated, but then Dave saw the desire in her eyes, he had to be sure. Her body responded to him, her legs parted, her curls were damped and warm.

She let him undress her, the soft cotton falling down revealing her body, still fresh and keeping the warmth from her bath.

Dave kissed her skin, from her neck to her breasts, capturing the last droplets of water still running down her tits. Her long nails scratched his scalp and he hissed. She held on his shoulders when his kisses ran to her stomach and the valley of her sex.

“Where is your room?” he asked, a soft kiss over her curls

She grabbed his hand to the bed. Before it, she undressed him in silence and mimicked his affections, going from his neck, to his chest to his belly dropping kisses until she was on her knees.

“Lay down for me” She nodded at his command

He held her hips, her scent hit him and nothing could have stopped him. Dave kissed her thighs, marveled on how her skin molded under his hands. He parted her legs and watched at her sex openning for him. Forbidden fruit, too sweet to refuse a taste.

He licked her and kissed her until she trembled. She was docile and languidly turned around when he pushed her down the mattress. She looked at him like days ago, eyes fixed on him, curving her back and pressing her ass up.

“Fuck me, please”

Dave felt dirty, the ring that held his vows still on his hand while he held her hips in the right position to fuck her. Pulling in and out from her. In the back of his mind there was still some part of him that reprimanded him. But her whimpers took him back to the surface, to the sin of the flesh he was committing. There was only him in her, and her wetness on him, on his chin, on his hands and his cock. He was surrounded by her. She held him tight inside her, squeezing him

The first time it was just a whisper, a mumbled word that he almost heard.

Next time she said it, he was far up in her, pushing something inside of her that made her tensed instantly and wet him even more

Daddy

He stopped for a second, he will remember for days how she turned to him, her teeth leaving the pillows, her lips soft and swollen.

Daddy please dont stop

Dave started his pace again

Daddy please harder

Please

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His hair was glued to his forehead, her skin glistening in sweat. The cool air of the morning was drying the sheets. He had found the kitchen and grabbed her a glass of water, he cleaned her while she watched him with a soft smile.

They didn’t say much. Dave left her asleep and promised himself he would never be back.

But day after day he woke up feeling her, smelling her, wishing the pressure of his fist was hers. Nothing alleviated the hunger. He ran, he took more jobs he could handle, he tried to be good.

But there he was again, willingly going to commit unholy things. She was asleep the second time, he got in her bed in silence looking at the roof until she turned and found him there.

“Are you lonely?”

taglist: @littlemisspascal

#Dave York #dave york x f!reader #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #dave york x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedro pascal fandom #dave york pit #dave york fanfic #the equalizer 2

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konraddams · 10 months

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Older drawings of my main dnd character, Korvo Ardor.

Long backstory stuff incoming...

Born the only child to the King Izura and Queen Kara of Invernos, Korvo had to prepare himself to one day take over. Unfortunately he was never able to get the hang of his classes, mostly they just couldn’t hold his attention, the only things he enjoyed were the violin and blacksmithing, as different as they are, he hated being forced to study as he’d rather be out in the world fighting monsters and saving maidens like in the stories he was told; but the stories never had his kind in them, at least not as the heroes. He was always told his people had one of the most important jobs, holding back the horrors from beyond, but no songs were sung of them, no one knew it was even happening they were so far in the North. “Tiefling are the only ones that can survive the harsh conditions, that’s why we’re so important to the world.” His father would remind him, but no matter what was said to him, Korvo just couldn’t accept that, until one day when an old friend of Izura came to visit. Vaako Blackfeather, feared captain of The Raven’s Beak (one of the more well-known pirate ships of the time) was an albino kenku that was like an uncle to Korvo. On this particular visit when Korvo was about 10, he packed a bag and hid in the cargo hold of The Raven’s Beak not coming out until a few days out at sea, just to be sure. When he did finally emerge his "uncle" was almost as amused as he was furious, and after talking it over with Korvo decided that he could stay aboard the ship as long as his parents allowed. Using the power of their family ring, Izura appeared onboard the ship and after a long discussion with Vaako and Korvo, begrudgingly conceded, thinking maybe if he had some experience in the world it would hopefully help him learn how to rule one day.

For the first time in his life Korvo was absorbing every bit of information thrown at him, every knot to tie, every star in the sky, all of it he understood, and the combat training from Vaako was definitely his favorite part, he even learned to control his budding magical abilities. Then one day when he was about 16, they came across a merchant ship ripe for plundering. During the ensuing battle Korvo found himself squaring off with a pale elf, dual wielding strange swords coated in lightning. She charged straight at him almost faster than he could react, they locked blades and began having an intense dual with fire and lighting tracing around every swing. During one of their clashes Korvo had blocked one of her blades with his flintlock, unfortunately the lightning sparked the powder causing an explosion that took his left hand, the bullet flying from the destroyed gun and taking her left eye. They both collapsed from the encounter and blacked out. Hours later they awoke and found themselves bandaged up in the crew's quarters. Vaako was there waiting and explained to them both that the ship they were attacking turned out to be a slaver's vessel, a shock to the elf. She introduced herself as Revas and explained that she was a shadar-kai who had recently escaped the Shadowfell and the cult-like people that had raised her, she merely wanted a life of freedom. Vaako offered her a place on their ship as in his eyes nothing is freer than a pirate at sea, an idea she latched onto wholeheartedly. Revas helped him through the loss of his arm explaining that where she was from their people didn't care what happened to their bodies as it was all part of the cycle of life and you should not mourn what was lost.

A few years passed and they quickly formed a strong bond with each other through their battles. Eventually Vaako Blackfeather began to grow old and tired, so he decided to pass his ship and the sword that commanded it onto Korvo who renamed the ship The Burning Dawn. Another year goes by and the Dread Pirate of the Dawn quickly gains a reputation. Fog rolls in as a thundercrack roars across the waters, before you can react the Dawn is upon you. Korvo and Revas even started developing feelings for each other, but before either could confess them, King Izura appeared on the deck, telling Korvo that they had arranged a marriage for him with a princess of the other tiefling kingdom to the east, Mythral. He didn't even get to voice his protests before being teleported back to Invernos with his father, leaving Revas behind with the sword and command of the ship. She picked the scimitar off the deck and quietly returned to the captain's quarters where she found a package from Korvo. Inside was a silver ball and a note saying it was the bullet that took her eye. He had it plated in silver and was going to give it to her as a gift to show how far they had come since their first meeting.

Back in Invernos for the first time since his youth he was greeted by a gathering of his family, his mother, aunt and uncle were all standing around excited to see him again. His mother seemed disappointed at him for losing his arm in battle more so than concerned. His uncle Lorian, however, had a knack for acquiring strange people and items, so it was almost no surprise that shortly after his arrival Korvo was introduced to a strange man with a bag of mysterious tools. The man took measurements of his arm and rushed off to get to work. While the stranger was off, King Izura began to explain the details of the marriage arrangement he had worked out. Korvo's bride was named Annarhis Azar, her father's kingdom was small but had a very valued resource, they had an extremely rare dragon egg that had laid dormant for centuries. The Ardor family line had always had good relations with the dragons so Izura believed he would be able to awaken the beast within. King Farin Azar thought nothing of trading his daughter and dragon egg for a chance to be in good standing with a proper kingdom.

About 2 years passed after the wedding, Annarhis gave birth to twins, Izen and Izara, but shortly after disappeared. She never wanted this life and returned to her father's kingdom in a rage. That was the last Korvo heard from her until he got word of an attack on their hold with no survivors making it out. Korvo couldn't take the pressure off having to raise the children on top of learning to rule a whole kingdom and left the castle, leaving the children in the care of his parents.

It took him no time to hunt down rumors of Captain Revas of the Phantom Tempest, she had docked his old ship at Morde Isles the pirate haven, and bought her own with her own crew, she still kept his in good condition, just in case he returned. Revas was at a tavern in a local port to the south, restocking her ship when he found her again. She still had that strong presence. You almost felt cold being around her or looking at her too long, but to him, it felt like home. When he approached her, he saw that she had taken his final gift of the silvered shot and implanted it into her missing eye. Upon inspection, one could see his family crest carved into it. They immediately threw themselves into everything that happened the past years. The night turned long, and they were still in the tavern, not eager to leave each other's side. By the next morning, they had decided to adventure out together for a little while and learn more about the mainland, leaving their ships in the care of her first mate. It was that morning that Avari, King Izura's 4 eyed raven familiar came to Korvo, he had a package from his father containing the family ring and a letter about needing to be sure he was protected, so Avari was to be his companion from here out. With that, the 3 of them set off to see what adventures came their way and, hopefully, never have to leave each other again.

#dnd oc #dnd art #dnd character #tiefling #tiefling oc #warlock #sorcerer #swordsman #prince #pirate #king

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decemebercircus · 1 year

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Sofia's Birthday request

Sorry this isn't that good--

Riddle Rosehearts

"Congratulations Are in Order~!" Riddle called to the students, drawing attention. Most were still trying to take their place at the table.

"Its my pleasure to host this tea party for you Sofia" Riddle smiled

Sofia beamed.

Trey poured a cup of tea "happy birthday Sofia". Following it hundreds of voices chorused "Happy birthday Sofia!"

"Thank you for the birthday party!" Sofia said.

Deuce Spade

"Don't give her a cauldron idiot!" Ace teased.

"Shut up!" Deuce snapped. I uh got you a gift. Deuce blushed as he handed Sofia a white box with a pale blue ribbon. In it was a bright orange helmet.

"My magic Wheel won't be here today but it will be shipped here tomorrow! I was thinking I'd give you a ride around the campus" Deuce smiled

Sofia grinned. "I'll really get to ride it?" Deuce you're a good friend!"

Kalim Al-Asim

A Whole New Sight

"Jamil's a really good cook! I asked him to make these for you!" Kalim smiled proudly.

It was a bag of cookies. Upon a second look the cookies had strawberry jam filling. A few had chocolate.

Sofia bit into one "Thank you Kalim!"

I'll take you on a Magic carpet ride if you want!" Kalim dashed off pulling Sofia behind him.

"Really?" Sofia asked.

In a minute they were soaring through the sky and Sofia was taking in the somewhat blurry sights of buildings people and flowers.

Flowers?

Yep Kalim showed her flowers lilies, orchids, petunias, daisies..

It was a flower garden the size of a football field!

"This place! it's beautiful!" Sofia gasped Kalim grinned.

Silver "Vanrouge"

Sofia woke Silver up. "Happy birthday Sofia" Silver's unique violet eyes shined. He still looked half asleep but he wished her a happy birthday.

Sofia handed him a flower crown. "I made one from the flower garden I visited with Kalim," Sofia smiled.

"Shouldn't I be giving you a gift?"

"Let me put the crown on you and I'll call it even!" Sofia said.

"Alright," Silver sat up and leaned forward slightly so Sofia vould put the crown on his head. After a few minutes a few sparrows and squirrels joined them and silver looked like he'd fall asleep again.

"Your animal friends are so cute"

"I think they're here for you today" Silver smiled.

Notes:

My own apologies. Congratulations on turning.... However old you are. I recall you said you didnt want to reveal your age.

These are all short because I don't know anything about you truthfully and I didnt really want to write things you didnt like.

Happy birthday and congrats on living so long in a world that is probably not the best.

I hope the stories were decent I did my best. I can't DM this since last I checked in still blocked but YOU asked for a birthday story. I'm aware I was a asshole last time I spoke to you and I'm sorry for that. In any case HAPPY BIRTHDAY! best wishes to your new age.

I was in a good mood so I wrote this bonus fic. It doesn't have a twst character but you also don't have to read it.

Bonus story

"Salutations and Happy birthday Sofia! A hooded figure exclaimed.

"I'm Lapis Lazuli! I'm terribly late and I'm almost out of time but I've prepared a special place for us to go" in her left hand she held a dark blue bag. In her right she held a Jones White Mystery AirHeads soda bottle. It was open and had been drunk out of but not yet half empty.

"First put this on! It's the Ceremonial Robes you wanted!"

Lapis herself had strawberry flavored ice cream and Sofia had chosen a orange popsicle.

******

"That reminds me Lapis?" Sofia asked.

"Yeah?" Lapis looked up "how are we talking right now we've never met in person have we?

"That's a secret! It's part of a favor from someone very important to me!" Lapis said.

She looked sad by this but hid it with a graceful flourish to the sights below. It was nothing compared to the view from the carpet ride but it was still amazung to see various lamps and streetlights begin glowing as sunset became Twilight. And Twilight turn to the actual night.

Again Lapis had a semi sad look and she was frowning at her sand timer. It was nearly empty.

Sofia looked confused. "Are you leaving?"

"Uh huh! I've run out of time" Lapis said pointing to her sand timer. About half a teaspoon of grains were left. "I really hope you enjoyed your birthday Sofia. Next time I'll plan more festivities"

Lapis untied her hair ribbon and retied it on Sofia's head.

"Go back and enjoy your party Sofia

You'll see me again next year! I look forward to watching the best of sights with you!"

Lapis reached into her Ceremonial Robes pocket and pulled out a handful of sunflower petals. Without a word Lapis scattered them in the wind where Sofia looked to the sky full of shining stars.

Sofia looked back to where Lapis was standing and her smile faltered. Lapis wasn't there anymore. Silver was.

"Where'd lapis go?"

"Who?" He knit his eyebrows.

"The girl that was standing here," Sofia answered.

Silver had a odd smile on his face. "You been seeing more fairies? I didn't think they would pay any mind I'm surprised they wished you a happy birthday. Must be because you're so kind" he came to the edge of the balcony and admired the stars with Sofia.

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aquamarinescarlet · 3 years

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Don’t give up just yet

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)

Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.

Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.

PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.

“You should call her, y’know.”

“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”

“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”

You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.

“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”

“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”

Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall.

Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.

The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.

Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.

You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there.

First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.

Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.

Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings…

It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired.

You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’

Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it.

After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t.

It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.

You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.

As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.

Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it.

You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all.

Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.

The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.

You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems.

“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.”

“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.

“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.

“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch.

“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.

“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer.

Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile.

“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.”

“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.”

“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing.

Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.

She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.

Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her.

Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?

She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.

Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.

She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.

After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate.

Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did.

Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again…

When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?

The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.

And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.

Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?

She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.

Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.

But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like.

You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.

You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.

The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.

“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.

Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.

“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!”

You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.

“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.

“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you.

She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up.

It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.

Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.

You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.

One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be.

She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.

And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all.

It still seemed weird though. Like something was off.

“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”

“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.

It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.

“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe.

“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.

Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.

The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.

It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.

After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.

Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet?

She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?

Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology.

You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.

That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.

Two voicemails.

From none other than Isaac.

It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.

Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.

The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.

The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?

Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.

It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.

A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.

“How can I help?”

“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.

“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.

Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.

“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.

“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket.

It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.

You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.

You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.

“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless.

The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.

Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.

You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.

“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.

You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.

“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.

Those words.

Her looking at her wrist.

Your’s burning now.

You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #mcu #marvel #reader insert #wanda maximoff imagine #soulmate au

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flightlessangelwings · 3 years

Text

Save You

Din Djarin x gn!reader

Word count: 3k

Warnings: hurt/comfort, injury, blood, mild canon-typical violence, protective!Din, blindfolds, feelingssssss, my love of Pedro Pascal’s nose really shines through here

It was nothing new for you to follow the Mandalorian headfirst into danger. It was part of life as his partner, and though you had many scars and bruises from your chosen life, you had no complaints. You grew to care greatly for the bounty hunter and when the little green child joined, you quickly became attached to him as well. And you knew that Mando did too, though he was more reserved with his emotions and feelings.

He protected both you and the child, and he taught you how to better defend yourself as well. That way you could take care of yourself should anything happen. Mando wanted you to become more capable, especially now, since the child was around. You liked that he had that much respect for you to treat you as an equal, and you gladly accepted the risks of life with him.

You and the Mandalorian found yourself in a damp, dark planet on the trail of another bounty. He led the way through a series of tunnels of what looked like an old mine. You stayed close behind him with the child securely strapped to your chest for safety. You had your blaster ready in your head should anything jump out from around the corner, but so far the only movement was from you and Mando.

“I have a bad feeling about this,” you whispered as you listened to the steady beep of the tracking fob in Mando’s hand.

“Just stay close,” was all he offered in reply. Truthfully, he wasn’t completely confident either, but he didn’t want to alarm you. Ever since you and the child entered his life, his number one priority was to keep you both safe.

Just as you were about to say something, the tracking fob grew louder and the beeps became more rapid; you were close. Mando nodded to you and you raised your weapon as you stayed at his side. The tunnel was dark, but the light in his hand illuminated the way. You vaguely wondered who would hide down here where it was so dark and dusty. But then again, it provided the perfect cover for someone who didn’t want to be found.

The tunnel seemed to come to an end, and although the fob beeped wildly, there was no sign of anyone else around. You met Mando’s gaze for a moment before you both looked around to investigate. You were in a mostly empty space. It was clear that the crew who had been in this cave had quickly left their digging. The area was littered with abandoned tools and boxes, but there wasn’t a soul around.

You stepped towards a larger box that had material piled on top to get a better look when you noticed something odd. There seemed to be a small light at the top of the pile, and it looked like it had been placed there more recently. Something was off, and the Mandalorian sensed that as well. The child cooed inquisitively and you gently pat his head to keep him quiet.

“Hey Mando…” your voice was muted to not draw attention in case anyone lurked in the shadows.

He stepped up closer to you for a better look at what caught your attention. He cocked his head to the side but said nothing as he watched you reach out to investigate. Carefully, you poked at the source of the little light, but the moment your hand grazed the material the two of you froze as you both realized what it was.

It was a bomb. This was a trap.

Mando reacted quickly as he grabbed your hand and yanked you back. “Run.” The urgency in his voice was clear as he moved with haste to get you and the child out of danger.

Everything happened in a blur. You and Mando started to run, but you didn’t get too far before the explosive went off. There was enough space so you were not in direct line of fire, but it wasn’t far enough that you wouldn’t be severely hurt. The cavern lit up around you before you heard the explosion and by the time you turned around, it was too late.

But the Mandalorian was faster, and without a second thought, he jumped in front of you to shield you and the child from the brunt of the explosion. You ducked your head down and wrapped your arms around the child to try to protect him as best you could. Despite your best attempt, you were knocked off your feet from the force of the blast.

Luckily for you all, it was not a particularly strong detonator. However, you were still close enough for it to do some damage. You hit the ground with a loud grunt, and you had enough forethought to land yourself on your side to not hurt the child. He cried out, but was completely unhurt. Mando landed right next to you with a harder thunk, and you knew right away that was not a good sign. He laid on his back, and you saw that his chest barely moved.

“Din? Din!” In your panic you used his real name as you crawled over to him and shook his shoulder. You heard a soft groan through his modulator, but he stayed still.

A rustle of movement caught your attention, and you acted on instinct and shot the intruder without hesitation. In the low light, you vaguely made out the features of the bounty you both had been after, but that was the last thing on your mind right now.

With a heavy exhale, you lowered your blaster and looked down to check on the child. With a sigh of relief that he was ok, you pat the top of his head. “I need your help, little guy,” you choked back tears as you knew you had to be fast. “We need to get him back to the ship and I can’t carry him by myself.”

The child looked up at you with his big eyes and blinked once before he turned to look down at his father-figure. He seemed to understand and he lifted his little hand and closed his eyes on concentration. You watched with bated breath as Din’s body slowly rose up from the ground. Once he was more upright, you wrapped one arm around his waist and positioned one of his arms over your shoulders. Together, you and the child managed to get the Mandalorian back to the ship.

Luckily, the quarry seemed to be alone, and you didn’t encounter anyone else on the agonizing trek back to the Crest. You locked up the cargo bay behind you and carefully set Din down on the floor against the back wall in the main hull. The child slumped back against your body in exhaustion as you unfastened him from your chest and set him down in his pram.

“You ok?” you asked the child in a soft voice as you caressed his face. When he cooed at you, you smiled down at him. “Thanks for your help. I’ll take care of him. I promise.” You tried to hide the fear in your voice for the baby’s sake.

He seemed content with your words and slumped back into the pram and watched quietly as you hurried back to Din. You rummaged through your things until you found the med kit. You rushed back and sat down at his side as you checked over his injuries. Thankfully, the beskar seemed to shield his body well enough for the most part, but because you were so close to the detonator, some shrapnel got lodged underneath.

With trembling hands, you took off Din’s armor piece by piece and pushed the shredded fabric to the side to work on healing his injuries. Blood soaked his clothing, and you fought to keep your breathing steady while you worked. Din leaned back against the wall and watched you work through his visor. The helmet hid the fond expression he wore though half lidded eyes as you frantically raced against time to help him.

Your own hands stained red with his blood, but you didn’t care. You just kept whispering to him as you kept your eyes trained on the wounds.

“Hang on, Din.”

“You’re going to be alright.”

“I can’t lose you… Please…”

“Just one more bacta patch should do it.”

With a heavy sigh, you finally sat back and took in his slumped over form in front of you. Din barely moved since you set him down, and though you managed to close most of his wounds, you could tell his breathing still was labored. Fear ran through your veins as you noticed that blood dripped down his neck and realized there must be an injury underneath his helmet as well. Your hands rested on his chest as tears formed in your eyes.

Din must have read your thoughts, because he slowly rested his hands over yours and whispered your name in a weak voice.

“I know, I know,” you couldn’t hide the way your voice trembled. You looked around the hull as you tried to come up with a plan. As much as you couldn’t lose the man in front of you, you also knew how important his creed was to him and you would never ask him to break it. “There has to be a way…”

Din took in a breath to say something, but you unknowingly cut him off with an exclamation. His hand twitched on top of yours as he slightly tilted his head to the side in a questioning glance. “What is it?”

You met his visor with a newfound fire in your eyes, “I have an idea. But I need you to trust me.”

His grip on your hand tightened ever so slightly, “I trust you,” he said your name and you could feel the confidence in his voice, however weak it was.

With a nod, you broke away from him and reached out for a piece of medical wrap from the med kit. From the far corner of the room, the child cooed inquisitively; he had watched you from his pram the entire time, but was too tired from using his powers to be of much help. You looked over and met his gaze before you crossed the space to address him.

“I need you to keep this on, buddy. Ok?” You spoke in a soft voice as you tore off a smaller piece of cloth and hovered it over his eyes. You dropped it for a moment to give him your pinky instead. The child seemed to understand and he reached out and wrapped his little hand around your finger as he cooed softly in response. You gave him a smile as you tied the fabric securely around his eyes. “I’m trusting you here.”

The child started to reach up but he didn’t touch the fabric around his eyes. You watched him for a moment, and only when you were satisfied that he wouldn’t remove the cloth did you turn back to Din. You settled in front of him again as you secured your own makeshift blindfold. The Mandalorian watched with bated breath as he realized what your plan was. He made no attempt to move as you slowly reached out for his helmet once you took away your sight.

You held your breath as you rested your hands on either side of his helmet, “Din,” your voice was barely audible as you waited for him to make the final call. A gasp escaped your throat when you felt his own hands over yours again and together you slowly lifted his helmet off.

There was a tense silence in the room as Din took a deep breath of fresh air for the first time. You let go of the helmet and brought your hands back to yourself as you waited for him to set it down. When you heard the soft thud, you broke the silence, “I’m going to need you to guide my hands.”

Din let out a heavy breath of his own, “Alright,” he didn’t trust himself to say anything more, and the sound of his raw voice took you both by surprise.

Carefully, Din took your hands in his own as he led them to the med kit. Slowly, the two of you worked together to set bacta on the wounds that bled at the back of his head. You knew your lips trembled, and you figured he noticed, but he never said anything. Din hissed in pain when you put some bacta cream on the back of his head, and you whispered a soft apology in response.

When Din was sure there was enough to cover the last injury, he let go of your hands. But, instead of letting go, your hands lingered against him. You couldn’t resist the temptation, and you still had adrenaline pulsing through your system, so you ran your hands through his hair. It was damp from sweat and blood, but it was still surprisingly soft. You were careful and tender with your movements. You kept your touch light so you wouldn’t hurt him and he could lift your hand away if he wanted to.

But Din found that he didn’t want to, and he let you run your hands through his hair a few times. He sighed softly as your hands came to the front of his face and you brushed a lock of his hair off his forehead. Your fingertips traced over his face as if you tried to figure out what he looked like from touch. Din closed his eyes as you cupped his jaw with one hand while the other trailed down his nose.

You couldn’t help but smile at the feel of his skin under your hands. And though you didn’t voice it out loud, you were already fond of the shape of his nose. The hand that roamed over his face came to rest on the side of his jaw as you cupped Din’s head in your hands. You bit your lip as you tranced your thumb across his cheek, and you didn’t even realize how close your finger came to his lips until you felt his breath against your skin.

“I’m sorry,” you gasped suddenly as you started to pull your hands away, “That was overstepping. I….”

Just as you started to move your hands away, Din reached out and grabbed onto you gently. Your mouth fell open as a small gasp escaped your lips, and you tensed when you felt him place your hands back on his face.

“You didn’t overstep,” his voice was soft, and you felt his breath on your hands.

Din rested one hand over yours to keep you in place while he reached out for you with the other. His hand cupped your chin, which startled you. He was just as slow and careful with his movements as he brought you in close to his body. You fumbled, more clumsy without your sight, but you settled yourself in his lap as you faced him and you froze when you realized how intimate the position was.

The child, who stayed quiet the entire time, perked his ears up and cooed softly. He seemed to sense the growing tension in the room and he reached over and blindly searched for the button on the front of his pram. He slumped back to lay down as the top cover closed and gave you and Din more privacy. Din noticed the action out of the corner of his eyes, and he smiled slightly before he turned his attention back to you.

He felt you tremble in his grasp, and the nerves that radiated from your body were almost palpable. “It’s alright,” Din whispered as his lips hovered over yours.

“Din…” your voice was so hushed that he barely even heard you.

The Mandalorian’s eyes dropped down to your lips for a brief moment before he closed the gap between your bodies. The kiss was soft and light at first; he just tested the waters for now. But when you sighed and leaned into his touch, Din wrapped one of his arms around you and pulled you so that you were flush against him. You moaned into his mouth as you deepened the kiss. One of your hands stayed on his jaw while the other dropped down to clutch at his shoulder.

Din winced slightly at the touch, but it was nothing compared to the pain he felt before you patched him up. Besides, he would rather feel a slight sting if it meant you stayed connected to him. Din wasn’t ready to let you go just yet, not when he finally felt your touch for the first time. It was a feeling unlike any other, and he was already addicted to you.

You smiled into the kiss as you felt the warmth and security from Din’s grasp. If you were honest with yourself, you wanted this for so long, but you kept your feelings buried. But now that you had it, you never wanted to let it go. You never wanted to let him go.

“Thank you.” Din finally spoke as he broke away just enough to breathe.

“For what?” you furrowed your brows.

“For saving my life,” you could hear the grin in his voice as his thumb brushed over your skin.

You leaned in for another kiss before you smiled against him and spoke in a hushed voice that held so much emotion, “Thank you for saving mine.” A muffled coo from the corner of the room called your attention and you let out a short laugh, “Our lives,” you corrected yourself.

Din smiled against your face and made sure you felt it, “Of course,” he kept his response short and left it unsaid that he would do anything to keep you and the child safe. You both meant more to him than anything in the galaxy and there wasn’t anything Din wouldn’t do for you both. But for now, he was content to be safe in the hull of the Crest with you both, and for him to feel you against his bare skin was more than he could ever have asked for.

Notes: I love me some good hurt/comfort with Din so much and this idea just came to me randomly and I had to write it! As always, taglists are open so let me know if you’d like to be added :) And let me know what you think of this one too!

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian #din djarin #the mandalorian fic #mando x reader #mando #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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joyfulhopelox · 3 years

Text

"I've never cried over a broken dryer before"-"And you better not start now"

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: Jungkook x reader (College!AU/ University!AU)

Genre: smut with a saltbae of fluff

Warnings: alcohol use, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk, swearing, bit of dom! JK, biting

Summary: Upon entering the club you come across a familiar face. Turns out your laundry adventures were not over. Who knew that clean laundry could lead to dirty talk?

Word count: 6.5k

rating : 18+

A/N: Massive thank you to @bangtanhome for not only being my beta but also my support and making this whole thing a polished princess. Thank you Moon so much for taking the time to edit and thank you for listening to me whilst I complained about this. And most importantly massive thank you for giving me pointers. This is my first piece of nsfw writing and I was extremely unsure about putting it out there but you’ve literally been an angel and were patient with my unsure self whilst also making sure you made this readable <3 -I also would like to thank my soulmate and best friend for putting up with me and dying in the process of reading a fic about her bias. I will warn that i massively sleep deprived at this point but i wanted to get this out with the occasion of the Muster 2021 so here she is!

Copyrights @joyfulhopelox for both the work and the banner

As always please leave feedback and/or talk to me as i love to hear from you! Enjoy <3

Fuck. You’d overslept. You weren’t panicking because you were going to be late; you were normally late anyway. But as soon as your eyes opened, you felt the grogginess that comes with sleeping a bit too much. Your body felt sluggish, joints throbbing and your mouth feeling like you've stuffed cotton balls in it. Feeling like you've been through a survival show, you know it'll take at least an hour for your body to wake up properly. However, you didn’t have time to let yourself slowly come to. You were already late. Any later than this and you may just as well stay home for the night- and go back to sleep. You reveled in the thought for a second, but no. Your friends were impatiently waiting for you to go out clubbing with them. And most importantly to lend them your car. You knew that only because they have called and messaged you incessantly for the past hour reminding you of it. You were thankful at least that you were not the designated driver for the night. Normally you’d draw straws and this time you had got lucky, you could drink as much as you wanted.

‘Good lord Y/N get your ass out of bed,’ you hyped yourself up and just like a bandaid, you ripped yourself from your covers and rolled out of bed. Landing with a thud you groaned upon impact. That was going to leave a bruise.

After a quick shower to get the cobwebs cleared off your mind, you put on a dress. You didn’t wear dresses normally, your wardrobe consisted mostly of pants and various tops. To be tightly encased in a dress that was a bit too short for comfort made you feel uncomfortable, but you knew that as soon as you had some alcohol into you, things would change. A loud knock at your door told you that your friends had finally arrived so you hurriedly grabbed your purse and keys and were out the door. You hesitated for a moment, the feeling of having forgotten something weighing on your mind. When you couldn’t figure out what it was, you decided that it must not be important. Plus, your friends were waiting; time to get the show on the road.

As soon as you entered the club, the heavy smell of smoke, sweat and alcohol hit your sensitive nose. The atmosphere was too loud and obnoxious for your sober brain. To remedy that, your friends decided to stop by the bar first and buy a round of shots to get the night started. With the burn of the alcohol running down your throat, your confidence levels increased. The dress didn’t make you feel uncomfortable anymore, instead you prowled around, your hips moving to the beat. You were aware of the lustful stares that you were receiving and you thrived off of it. Tonight you were on the hunt, ready to let loose after the stressful week full of exams.

“Hey, Y/N. Muscle at 12 o’clock has been giving you the look more than a couple of times,” your friend leaned in to make themselves heard over the loud music. “Try not to be obvious, but I'd say he’s a 10.” You nodded in acknowledgment running a finger over the rim of your glass.

“He’s looking away now, look look,” they nudged you, forcing you to turn around. In all honesty, you weren’t interested in going home with anyone. You were simply enjoying the admirative stares and the smouldering gazes that were thrown your way, but you had no intention to take any of them home with you. However, when you turned around, you were faced with the impossible task of reconsidering. The back of the man your friends' pointed out was indeed muscular, broad and strong, you could see the muscles popping underneath the black shirt he wore. The sleeves of the shirt were pushed up to his elbows, allowing a full display of tattoos on his right arm.

Normally you would have second thoughts about a person like that, but there was something about his demeanour that drew you in even without seeing his face.

The handsome man motioned to one of his friends and his whole body shook with laughter. Observing the way the shirt strained against his muscles you licked your lips involuntarily. For a second you thought he looked strangely familiar, and before you could convince yourself you were being paranoid, he turned his head to the side to entertain the person to his right.

The messy mop of hair, defined jawline and that bridge of the nose they all belonged to the laundry boy - Jungkook. You smirked, “I’d give it a 15 actually”. As soon as you said that, he threw you a glance, his smile wavered as he made eye contact. You felt satisfied at the recognition in his eyes.

You slowly turned back to your friends, certain he would come to you. It took him the entirety of the time you took to finish your drink to make his way towards you.

“Don’t look, he’s coming.”

“Oh, he will be,” you smirked, eyes twinkled with excitement as your friends laughed at your slurring words.

Jungkook had noticed your enticing figure entering the club from the very beginning. It was as if a magnet pulled him towards you. He recognised you as soon as he laid eyes on you. How could he not? The cute girl from the laundry room in the daylight turned into an alluring vixen during nighttime. His eyes were drawn to your hips, the curve of your back and the tempting strip of skin he could spy; they were enticing to him. He tried his best to focus on the way your eyes sparkled in delight when one of your friends would make a joke, but when you ran a finger over the rim of your glass tracing delicate patterns, he felt your siren pull.

You smelt him before you felt him, the subtle vanilla enveloping your senses overpowering the scent of sweat from around you. He stopped right behind you, with one hand on the stool next to you; not completely encasing your form, but close enough that you could see his jawline in your periphery. Leaning in under the guise of ordering a drink from the bartender he pulled the stool and sat down. He didn’t address you at first, patiently waiting for his drink, his long fingers tapping the counter in rhythm with the beat. You tried your hardest not to stare at his hands, the art on them fascinating to you: the doodle style art accentuating his knuckles and the veins running tracing all the way up to where his skin hid beneath his shirt. You tried to keep a poised front, talking to your friends as if he was not there, but you could feel the heat of his stares from time to time, goosebumps forming on your skin.

You knew your friends were getting drunker and drunker as time passed, but you’d underestimated them. Soon enough they each scattered around the surface of the club looking for a dance partner. Your friend left you in charge of the drinks they ordered, winking at you suggestively as they left. That meant you were alone. And judging by the way your skin prickled, Jungkook was still seated next to you.

“A gin and tonic, please,” he ordered another drink. You realised now would be the perfect time to not only talk to him, but also repay him for earlier. As the bartender presented him with the bill you turned around and smoothly presented your card to him. “Make it two on the same tab.” you smirk, winking at Jungkook when your eyes met his.

You heard Jungkook laugh at your brazen attitude and you had to admit to yourself, if not for the alcohol you’d had earlier, you would’ve probably walked away. You made direct eye contact with him and smiled.

“Nice to see you again, laundry boy,” you smirked. Jungkook looked taken aback for a second. The image of you in the laundry room is completely erased. What he saw in front of him now was an alluring woman, sure of herself and what she wanted. And she made it clear that she wanted him. Hiding a smirk behind his hand he leans closer to you, his breath fanning the hair stuck at the nape of your neck.

“It’s Jungkook, not 'laundry boy',” he yells over the music. Your shoulders shake with laughter.

“I know, but it is fun to tease you - Jungkook.” He smiled at you, his eyes crinkling in delight. He's caught onto what you were doing and he was ready for it, two could play at this game.

“What’s your name?” You were half expecting him to pull a bad pick up line, the earlier impression that you had of him still engraved into your mind. When he didn't, you smiled, hiding your satisfaction. Maybe he really was worth a 15 and not a 10.

“What, no ‘I didn’t catch it’? No ‘I bet it hurt’? I’m offended, do I not deserve a bad pick up line?” you grinned at him and he burst out laughing, the sound reverberating through you making a shiver run down your spine.

“You got the drinks, pretty girl, there’s no way I can use a pick up line now,” you started laughing earnestly. He was definitely not what you had expected. The muscly tattooed facade was clearly done just for the purpose of aesthetics, and not because he slotted right in with the rest of the douches.

“Fair play, but I did say I was going to pay you back earlier,” you gesture with your head as if to point out which earlier moment you meant.

“I see. This is how you intended to keep your word then” Jungkook said just as the bartender places the drinks in front of you both handing him something. “But as it happens, I am a step ahead of you” he waved a card in front of you. His satisfied smirk made you pause flustered. Realising he’s already given his card to the bartender earlier you blushed.

“That’s not fair, laundry boy” you pout. “Now I have to find another way to repay you” you fumbled with the card the bartender handed over to you struggling to place it back in your clutch.

“I am sure we can find other ways” you paused looking at him. Under normal circumstances you would have found that to be incredibly off putting, but noticing the way he scrutinised you so intensely, no hidden message behind his smoldering gaze you squeezed your thighs together a wave of heat enveloping you.

You took a sip of your drink to mask the deepening blush and cleared your throat. You knew that if you gave him your name you were in for the ride. “It’s Y/N” you took another sip, savouring the taste of the alcohol.

“What?” Jungkook wasn’t expecting you to hand him your name so freely.

“It’s Y/N” you yelled louder and leaned into him thinking he hadn’t heard you because of the music. The waft of your perfume clouds his senses, the smell of cotton and lilac enveloping him. Needing to be closer to you he chanced it and asked you for a dance.

You finished your drink with a gulp and nodded your head. You grabbed his wrist and started making your way through the mob of people. Jungkook couldn’t help but stare at the way your hips swayed to the beat and when you threw him an alluring look over your shoulder he couldn’t help but be lost. He felt like a puppy following your sultry form through the crowd.

You finally stopped in the middle of the dancefloor, your moves more accentuated following the beat of the music. Jungkook stopped a few inches away from you, unsure whether or not he should place his arms around you yet.

You stepped closer to his body, your movement predatory. “Come on laundry boy, you can do better than that. Think of this as part of the payment” you winked at him. You could see the shift in his eyes, a flash of something heavy across his face, his demeanour changing in an instant from uncertain to commanding in a second. He gripped your waist tightly and pulled you flush against him moving along with the beat.

For a second all you could feel and smell was him. His domineering attitude instantly turned you on with the silent promise behind it. “Oh, this is just the beginning” he moved his hands so that his arms encased your waist intending to savour the feeling of you against him. Fully intending to see where this night ended you hooked your fingers into his belt, your bodies so close together they melded into one.

“Bring it on lover boy.”

The oppressive atmosphere of the club was enough to cloud all your senses. The alcohol running through your veins made you braver than you would have ever been. The smirk Jungkook threw at you was almost tantalising. Inviting you to commit sin. And the thought of tasting his lips and running your hands through his hair whilst his breath fanned over your throat was mouth watering. You’d been skirting around each other for the whole night, laughing, drinking, talking, but most importantly eyeing each other up. The last straw for you was when a rogue drink came flying out of nowhere and drenched the two of you. The liquid mixed with his sweat and snaked its way from his temple down to his jaw. You watched as the drops ran lower and lower as if directing your gaze towards his chest. Swallowing thickly you knew that you were a goner. If he’s ask to fuck you right there on the dance floor, you would surrender instantly.

Smirking at your lust filled expression, Jungkook knew he had you where he wanted. He had been staring at your lips for the whole night, entranced at the way the plumpness was enhanced by the sheen from when you’d run the tip of your tongue over them. He was mesmerised. He could also imagine that tongue running over his- he tried to stop himself there, aware that he’d get hard if he kept going in that direction. He could already feel the strain against his pants.

“Another drink?” he offered, and you shook your head at him. Another drink was definitely not what you wanted. What you wanted was him, to kiss you until your lips were raw and to pound into you senselessly until you could hardly remember your name. Were you drunk enough for this? Probably not, but you did not care for once. You wanted to remember this.

Leaning closer to you with the excuse of the loud music, his breath fanned the nape of your neck and the sensitive shell of your ear, making you shiver. “Then what would you like, love?”

There it was, the thousand dollar question. It was now or never. Taking a deep breath in you looked him straight in the eyes with determination. It made Jungkook shiver. You looked fierce and incredibly alluring. It took all the strength he had in him to not shove you on top of the bar and kiss your brains out. “Tell me?” he coaxed you.

He knew what you wanted. You had been obvious for the whole night. But so had he. Throughout your conversation you were undressing each other with your eyes. You noticed the way he couldn’t keep his eyes away from your ass when you would lean over the bar to ask for one more round of drinks.

Under normal circumstances, that thought would have made you nervous. This time it gave you the courage you needed to let yourself go. To switch from being the player to the one played. And if he was the one doing that, you didn’t mind one bit. “I want you” you bit your lip and looked at him from under your eyelashes. His eyes darkened with lust. Mind clouded with desire, he grabbed your wrist tightly and without a word started making his way through the crowd. The roar of the drunken crowd, the smell of sweat and alcohol, and the feel of sticky bodies bumping into you didn’t matter anymore. All your focus was on the way his back muscles moved with every turn of his body. Suddenly a flash of the same back muscles, naked, moving as he towered over you and thrust his hips into yours made your stomach clench and you could feel your panties getting damp. God you wanted him so badly.

Jungkook could see your wistful lust-filled eyes becoming hazier and he sped up the pace. He finally stopped when he reached an empty corridor near the back exit. He would have liked to have more privacy than that, but something about making you beg for him in a public place made his cock twitch in anticipation. He really needed to get a hold of himself otherwise he’d be done before you’d even started.

He tugged at your wrist and lightly pushed you into the wall, he would have taken things a lot slower but your gaze told him to hurry up and take you then and there. And who was he to deny you?

His eyes raked over your body, and a sigh escaped his lips. “Beautiful”. Even though he craved to taste you, he took a moment to appreciate the way your eyes glistened with passion, your chest heaving along with your breaths and your perfume clouding his senses. He wondered if you tasted as sweet as you smelt.

A fistful of your hair in his hands, he pulled you flush against him, until all you could feel were the hard planes of his chest and his hardened member poking at your abdomen causing you to moan, your panties getting wetter.

You whimpered at the sensation as his fingers gripped the sensitive hairs at the back of your skull, goosebumps forming on your skin in anticipation. Expecting him to attack your mouth with the same hunger that was displayed in his eyes you leaned more into him.

You silently begged him to release the coil that had formed in your stomach but he wanted you to beg. His breath fanned the pieces of hair that fell onto your face. The last rebellious piece of you that refused to fall into his clutches. In a desperate attempt to get him to kiss you, touch you - do something, you grabbed tightly onto his biceps relishing in the feel of the muscle tensing underneath your fingers.

“You’re not playing fair laundry boy,” you huff, feeling frustrated over the lack of contact. His laugh, dark, deep and lascivious sent a shiver down your spine.

“Baby girl, that’s not my name” his free hand clasped onto your waist squeezing hard enough to send a jolt through the pit of your stomach all the way down to your heated core. “Jungkook” you whimper and in a last attempt you hook your leg around his thin waist.

“That’s it baby” he lowered the hand on your waist towards your thigh, his fingers leaving an indentation in the skin. Seizing the opening you started grinding your core onto his thigh trying to relieve the ache. His lips ghost over your neck in a tantalizing way, his tongue sweeping over the nape briefly tasting your saltiness. The sensation of his warm tongue on the exposed area of your neck followed by the coldness from the air makes you moan. You could smell his perfume, combined with the musky scent of his sweat and alcohol made your head swim in delight.

“Jungkook, please” , you exposed your neck to him needing more. Rolling your hips into his thigh you could feel the blood pumping underneath your skin, the pleasure overshadowing any rational thought. The friction between your clit and his pants left you breathless, the coil in your stomach getting tighter and tighter ready to unfurl. All of a sudden Jungkook stepped a few inches away, and you lost contact with his leg. Robbed of your release, you instantly whine.

“Mmmm, I can't have you cum on my leg, as much as I would like to see you ride it out on your own. I need to taste you.” he demanded. The hand still supporting your leg inched closer and closer to your dripping cunt. Slipping a cold hand under the hem of your dress his fingers made contact with your heated core causing you to jerk. You yelped, your hips bucking into his hand. Your hands latched tightly onto his shoulders, your fingers digging into them in an attempt to steady yourself. He cupped you through your panties, the heel of his palm pressing into you. Muffling a moan into his shoulder you begged him to touch you more, but he retracted it away from your tender flesh.

“Nuh-uh not yet.” The hand pinched your thigh and you tried not to cry at the feelings bubbling up inside you. You were frustrated and horny, and his taunts were enough to make you crave for more.

“Laundry boy” you warn, staring him dead in the eye.

“Y/N, what did I say about my name” he pulled at the hair he still gripped tightly in his hand. Cradling you close to him he bucks his knee into your core, this time freely offering the friction that you had been yearning for. You whined, the lewd sound echoing in his ear. Your clit on fire, you pressed yourself more into his knee.

“That’s it, moan for me with those pretty lips” gaining a bit of self control you decided it was time for you to step up your game.

“Do you not want to see what else these pretty lips can do?” you licked your lips, your heart racing. Your hooded eyes suggested more than Jungkook would have expected from you.

“Dirty girl” biting his lip before he crashed them onto yours, the contact making your lips smack and your teeth clash. Neither of you care as your tongues intertwine, carrying the battle that your hips are craving. The friction between you caused your whole body to heat up, your senses heightened. You could feel every bit of him against you. The way one hand gripped your thigh and the other pulled at the sensitive hairs at the nape of your neck, the way his tongue roughly caressed yours. He was intoxicating. In the heat of the moment he roughly pushed you into the wall behind you, the force causing you to moan into his mouth.

Jungkook was at the end of his wits, he had to have you now. He needed to taste you, see you unfurl in front of him as he eats you out. Breaking the kiss, your mouth sore, he observed the way your pants made your chest rise up and down, pushing your breasts into him.

Without a word, he attacked your mouth once again for a brief second before he trailed down your jaw to your neck, nipping the sensitive skin in the process. The hand on your thigh reached once more underneath the hem of your dress, this time making its way fully and cupping your dripping core. At the touch of his hand on your sensitive clit your knees buckled and you let your weight onto him, your forehead dropping onto his shoulder for support. You tried to suppress a moan.

“Let it all out baby” his mouth at the shell of your ear, the tip of his tongue trailing the delicate flesh there. “You’re so wet” he moans, “I can't wait to taste you.” His finger dipped under the band of your panties trailing over your center. “So soft” - he sucked your earlobe into his mouth and gave it a small bite - "so wet for me”

This time you couldn’t hold back your moan. The feel of his finger pressed into your folds, parting them and exposing your clit to his ministrations had you squirming. The tip of his finger started drumming in a rhythmic steady fashion on your engorged button. The feel of his lips caressing the sore earlobe relieving the sting from the bite is too much for you. “Jungkook please, I need..” your moans getting louder and louder as the pad of his finger presses harder in an unrelenting tempo.

The hand holding your neck slowly inched towards the swell of your breasts, picking the flesh there until it turned sore. His fingers still attached to your sensitive bud he suddenly drops on his knees in front of you. With his support now gone you try to grip uselessly at the wall behind you. He slots himself between your legs, forcing them to spread open. As he raised the hem of your dress and pushed your panties to the side you couldn’t help but look down. The sight of him between your legs glancing up at you made your knees buckle. With one hand tracing your folds and the other gripping your hip tightly to hold you in place he gives you an uncertain look. “Is this ok Y/N?” his concern for your approval makes your heart melt, but you were too high strung to think about that. You wanted him, and you wanted him now.

“Please” you moan in approval.

With your approval he dived right in, too hungry for your taste. Parting your folds with his fingers he starts by giving you a tentative lick. Being sensitive from his fingers you writhe, your hands desperately clutching at the wall behind you. Savouring the first taste of you he thrums with his finger at your clit. You arched your back, your hands giving up on trying to hold onto the wall. Instead they found their way into his hair, fingers gripping tightly.

Diving back in Jungkook starts lapping earnestly at your folds, his finger still applying pressure onto your sensitive nub. Bucking into his face you suppress a moan. The sensation of his wet tongue prodding at your entrance is too much to take and your knees buckle. Jungkook sensed the shift in your weight and quickly grabbed a hold of your leg, hoisting it over his shoulder. The hand attached to your clit now tightly gripped your calf. The change in position offered the extra support you needed to not fall over.

With your entrance now completely opened to him his tongue started rapidly tracing your folds, only stopping to suck on your clit.

“Jungkook” the overstimulation from his tongue lapping up your wetness and his teeth nipping at the sensitive cluster of nerves is too much to handle, you can feel yourself take over, and Jungkook is more than happy to let you go at your own pace. Grinding over his face, your hands still gripping at his hair, you ride his tongue at your own pace desperate to reach your climax.

You can feel it, you are so close to release you could almost taste it.

Suddenly he entered a finger, knuckle deep into you pumping in and out quickly. Letting your calf go but making sure he is still supporting your weight with his body he leaves you sensitive nub alone and traces kisses along your inner thigh, up to your navel. The dress now obscuring other parts of you he gets up, his finger still deep in you, drawing pleasurable mewls out of your mouth.

“That’s it baby girl, tell me what you need” he is panting in your ear now. With the taste of you still lingering on his tongue and the sight of you coming undone from his ministrations makes him harder than he’s ever been. He felt uncomfortable under the constraints of his pants, the zip digging painfully.

“I need you to fuck me” you finally moan, your hips grinding against him chasing for that sweet release.

“I need you to come for me first baby, I need to see your pretty face when you cum all over my fingers” swiftly he changes fingers, his thumb now drumming at your sensitive clit. You gasp as a finger teases your entrance for a brief second before it penetrates your pussy.

The loud sounds coming from the club were not enough to drown out the lewd sounds that your wet pussy was making whilst Jungkook’s finger pistoned into you. The shot fire along with the shameless sounds you were making were enough to make the tight coil in your belly unfurl. With a deep loud moan you bit Jungkook’s shoulder in an attempt to muffle the yell that was threatening to spill out of your lips. Your muscles clenching in tandem with your core. Jungkook felt your cunt clamping his fingers tightly and a low grunt escaped past his lips. He could almost imagine how wet and tight you would be around him.

“That’s it beautiful, let go”

Your hips carried on buckling, chasing the high and wishing it would not stop. Jungkook took his time observing how your head fell down and your mouth opened slightly in a silent satisfied scream, how your eyes scrunched up as if you were trying to cut off all your senses apart from the feeling of his fingers in you. You were beautiful. When at last your muscles relaxed and your high subsided a low sigh fell out of your lips. It has been a long time since someone has made you cum like that with just their fingers. Jungkook’s finger still lazily traced your clit, the overstimulation too much for you to handle.

“Jungkook '' you whined trying to back away from him but the tight grip on your waist wasn’t allowing you to move more than a few inches away. Without a word Jungkook pulled his hand out of your panties and let go of you. Your knees still weak from your climax you struggle to stand up right and you end up having to lean into him slightly for support. The sight of him licking his fingers coated in your juices sets you on fire once more.

“You’re beautiful when you cum Y/N.” Somehow, his words made you blush. The lewd act that you both partook in had failed to make you blush, instead what made you self conscious was the way he gazed at you. It was softer and more intense and it made your stomach clench once more. If not for the obscene act in the deserted corridor of a club, you might’ve actually entertained the idea that he cared.

You smiled shyly at him and in that moment he was swept away by the warmth expanding from his chest. You were indeed beautiful. And witty, and smart, and you liked to do your laundry. What more could he want? Cupping your face, he kissed you once more, slowly and with purpose. You gasped, you were not used to this gentle Jungkook. Taking the opportunity to pull you closer once more, his tongue mapped every inch of your mouth.

“Fuck me now please” you whisper against his lips. Your hand on his belt moved slowly over the bulge in his pants. He bucked into your touch at the feel of your fingers wrapping around him as much as you could with his pants still on.

“Y/N” he warns. If you carried on that way he would definitely come in his pants. Rubbing him slowly, you could feel his member harden even more under your touch.

“Is it uncomfortable babe?” you whisper in his ear. “How about I return the favour?” you unzip his pants prepared to lower yourself to the floor but he grabs your shoulders keeping you in place.

As much as he would have liked to feel those soft lips around him, he knew that if anyone were to bump into you two, it would not be good. The club was full of students going to the same university as you. If they were to find you on your knees blowing him it would instantly kill your reputation. He did not want that to happen.

“Not here” he zips his pants back up and grabs your hand gently. After all that had transpired between you this soft almost domestic treatment is not what you were expecting. Once again the warm feeling in your heart returned, and this time you were a bit more sober. He was cute, and somehow you found his duality endearing. He returned to being laundry boy Jungkook instead of the dominant Jungkook you’ve just witnessed.

You walked through the club, his hand still gripping you tightly as if he was afraid he’ll lose you in the crowd. Once you reached the outside you took a deep breath in relishing in the way the fresh air soothed your heated skin. Glancing up at Jungkook you noticed he was on his phone texting someone.

“I am texting my friends to let them know I have left,” he explained, putting his phone back in his pocket, smiling at you. The contrast of his lust-filled gaze from before and his gleeful smile almost gave you a whiplash. He was such a contradiction that you couldn’t help but be intrigued by him.

“And I ordered an Uber” as soon as he’d said that a car pulled over right in front of you. The ride back to the campus was a quiet one. It wasn’t an uncomfortable quietness though, having chatted about anything and everything in the club you were content to just put your thoughts in order. You noticed that he had not let go of your hand once during that time but with his gaze out the window, his face thoughtful you could not bear to say anything. Plus, you were enjoying the feel of his smooth hands holding yours.

As the car pulled up in front of the dorm you both shared a glance, an understanding passing in between the two of you.

Once inside the fire inside you sparked up again. Grabbing at each other, your mouths hungrily clashing, you stumbled all the way to the elevator. It was late enough that no one would see you two messily making your way to your room. As soon as you entered the lift and separated to press the correct button you finally remembered what you’d forgotten. If you were a bit more sober you would have laughed at the hilarity of the situation.

Your face fell. “The laundry” you whined in distress. Jungkook’s mouth fell. He threw you a panicked look thinking that you’d changed your mind. One glance at you was enough to tell him that you were panicking in earnest.

“What happened to the laundry?” his hand hovering over the lift buttons unsure of what to do.

“I forgot to put the laundry in the dryer!” you looked at him with such drunken despair he had to hold his laughter in. He did not want to offend you by laughing in your face. You were sober enough to not slur your words, but clearly not sober enough to process your own feelings.

“Let's get that done then.” He decided that as much as he liked your witty self, as well as you in the throes of passion, he adored this side of you too; your guard down, emotions on display. It made his heart swell thinking that you were entrusting him with your vulnerabilities.

You rushed ahead of him entering the laundry room, not paying attention to anything but the lone machine still loaded with your clothes. You quickly opened it, the smell of clean cotton wafting around you.

“Let me help.” Jungkook grabbed the pile of clothes you were holding and moved them into the dryer next to him. As soon as everything was loaded in you turned to smile at him. The panic in your eyes now replaced by the same hunger that governed your mind earlier, you grab him forcefully, clashing your mouth against his. Your hips slammed together in an attempt to ride the pleasure from before. Jungkook, not having expected you to be so forceful, moaned into your mouth and instantly hardened against your hip bone. The quiet of the laundry room was filled with the sounds of your pants as you continued to kiss. In the heat of the moment, Jungkook places his hands on your ass, hoisting you up on the laundry machine behind you. The position allowed your hips to align perfectly, the pressure of his dick now directly onto your clit. Before you could go further Jungkook stopped and looked at you.

“You need to start the dryer,” with the last of his restraints he motioned to the still machine. You glare at him, this being the second time he cockblocks you and himself. But his gaze was unwavering. You sighed and leaned away from him, reaching for the top of the dryer as well as you could still atop of the laundry machine. “Whatever you say laundry boy.”

After pressing down on the start button, you’re quick to return to kissing him. But the quietness of the room seemed odd to you. The dryer had not started. Confused, you look at it again, certain that you pressed the right button. Pressing it once more you wait this time. The dryer stayed still.

The chaotic emotions from before enveloped you again and this time you could feel tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” Jungkook is throwing you a worried look, not having expected the sight of your tears.

“It’s not started! It’s broken!” you exclaim tears pooling barely hanging onto your bottom lashes. You pushed him gently aside and hopped off the laundry machine. “Why has it not started?”

The desperate look you gave him paired with the knowledge that the machine was not doing what you wanted because you had not paid makes him crack and start laughing. You gape at his bunny smile and crinkly eyes offended until the silliness of the situation catches up to you and you can’t help but join.

“I have never cried over a broken dryer before. Or been cockblocked by one” you glance at him, mirth in both your eyes.

“And you better not start now” he warns you jokingly. You stare at each other for a second before you burst out laughing again.

He can’t help but be enamoured by you and your silliness. Even though the night had not gone as you’d both planned. You both crying in laughter over a dryer makes him think that maybe there was something more there than a one night stand. And he was more than ready to give it a try.

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heloisedaphnebrightmore · 3 years

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Bundle of joy [Sirius Black x Reader] ['What they call home' OS] - Requested

Title: Bundle of joy Pairing: Sirius Black x Lestrange!Female!Reader Word count: 1.4k Published: 9 May, 2021 Author: Heloise Daphne Brightmore Summary: When you realise there’s a little baby growing in your belly, it terrifies you. Both you and Sirius had a rough childhood and now that there’s a new life inside you, your ability to raise a child concerns you, especially as you’re in the middle of a war. Notes: Part of the series What they call home, but can be read separately. Request: [x] by Anonymous

"Because I love Drama and the Lestrange X Sirius so much - Could you do an extra OS where Lestrange tells him that she is pregnant? Before that she is very distant (Generally afraid of the pregnancy and afraid of becoming like her parents as a mother) and often met a healer from the Order to ask what she is allowed to do/ not to do. 😊 (Of course only if you have time to do it)"

Bingo: [x] This is part of my Make me feel Bingo Card by @girl-next-door-writes

Square filled: Fix it fic

Harry Potter Characters Masterlist | Masterlists

Make me feel Bingo Masterlist

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It’s been 2 weeks. 2 whole weeks since you found out. 14 days exactly. 336 hours, 20160 minutes, 1209600 seconds. However you kept calculating, it still felt like forever. There was no doubt, no way to avoid the inevitable. As you walked out of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries, you were trying to grasp the idea of having a tiny human growing in your belly. A life that you were to nurture for the next 7 months within you. You were supposed to be happy, full of life, planning creative ways to tell all your loved ones. But how could you. The only thoughts that came to you were anything but positive. Your parents made your life a living hell, your bothers were death eaters and as difficult it was to admit it, you were one of them, even though you didn’t agree with their views.

How were you supposed to raise a child when the only examples you have been taught were how to hate? How were you to raise a child when you didn’t even know how to hold one? But most of all, how were you to tell Sirius, the man who meant more to you than anyone in your life? Children or family for that matter never came up in your conversations. You just couldn’t imagine walking up to him, stating your findings as simple facts. The man would have gotten a heart attack.

You were seated in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place with a steaming cup of tea in one hand and an enchanted polaroid photo of a tiny smudge that barely even resembled a baby just yet. You jumped in your seat as you heard the entrance door open and quickly hid the photo in your pocket. It wasn’t the right time, you weren’t ready to tell him just yet.

Sirius walked towards the kitchen, halting in the doorway, peeking in the room to catch a sight of you. “Hello, love,” he called with a soft smile across his face. As he approached you, his steps felt heavy and uncertain. But it was no surprise to you. “Are you feeling alright?” He asked as he stepped beside you and hinted a small kiss on the top of your hair, but once again, just like you have done many times before, you pulled away from him.

“I’m— I’m good,” you replied with a faux smile, trying to stop him from worrying, but you knew he realised your distant behaviour. He kneeled beside your chair, getting hold of your hands, holding them gently, drawing little circles on your knuckles.

“I know something is wrong. I know you are trying to hide something. If you are not ready to tell me, that is fine, but please don’t lie to me,” he pleaded with you as he left a small kiss on the back of your hand, reassuring you that he was ready to wait for you to open up.

“I just need you to give me a bit more time,” you whispered, your breath shaky and uncertain as you squeezed Sirius’ hands.

“As long as you need,” he offered you a sweet and genuine smile as he let go of your hands and cupped your cheeks, kissing you on your lips. His mere touch always made you feel safe, as though nothing could ever hurt you. But you knew in that moment that you were more afraid than ever.

“I wish that was true,” you sighed heavily, averting your eyes. “I’m scared, Sirius,” you exhaled, leaning forward and placing your forehead in the crook of his neck.

“Love, what are you afraid of?” He asked in confusion, running his hand through the back of your hair, trying to sooth your worries.

“Will I be like them?” You asked, earning a questioning humming sound from Sirius. “Like my parents. Will I be as horrible as them? I’m their blood after all,” you heaved a heavy sigh, your breath hitching as tears started escaping down your cheeks, soaking Sirius’ thick coat.

“Where is this coming from?” He asked, stunned. “You are nothing like your parents or your brothers. You are one of the most beautiful people I have ever met, both inside and out. And if you don’t believe me, ask yourself, have I ever lied to you? As far as I’m concerned, I have not. You are nothing like your family. Can you please tell me where all this is coming from? You are making me really worried,” he pleaded with you as he hinted a small kiss on your temple.

“Do you really think I’m nothing like them?” You asked as you leaned back to look into his smoky eyes, needing reassurance.

“Anything but, love,” he replied with a soft smile, hoping to cheer you up, earning a small smile from you.

“Sirius— erm, I was thinking— what do you think about children?” You tried to bring up the subject as softly as you could. If you could, you could have delayed the inevitable, but as he kneeled in front of you with a worried look across his face, you knew you couldn’t leave him in the dark any longer.

“Children?” He asked with a deep frown across his brows, your question catching him off guard. “I like them, I guess. I mean I have a really good relationship with Harry, Ron and Hermione and it seems little Teddy likes me too,” he chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck.

“And what do you think about having your own child?” You questioned, feeling your heart took on a faster pace, your palms sweating in your nervous state.

His eyes widened, your question surprising him. “What— what do you mean?” He asked stuttering, but you just bit on your lower lip and let your head fall forward whilst playing with your fingers. “Hold on a minute, do you mean— as in you and me— are we going to be parents?” He asked with a shocked expression, lips widely parted, eyes growing round. You weren’t sure what to say, how to say it or what would be the right words to use, so instead you nodded. “Is there going to be a little you and me— a miniature us running around?” He repeated as if needing further reassurance, he didn’t misinterpret your gesture.

“Yes— there is going to be a little one running around in approximately 7 months,” you replied with an awkward smile as you placed your hand on your belly, with the other reaching for the photo in your pocket. He took it from you, his face turning pale for a second, realisation hitting him hard, before his lips started curving up into a small smile.

“That— that is absolutely brilliant,” he began to chuckle as a wide grin spread across his face. “Just imagine what a handful he or she is going to be,” he laughed.

“Are you not afraid?” You asked.

“Of what exactly?” He furrowed his brows.

“Of us not being good parents? We are both from families that do not have a good record in providing a loving home,” you voiced your concerns.

“Not at all,” he smiled proudly. “If anything, we know best what we were missing and what we would like to do for that little one. We can use the lack of love we had as an advantage, because now we know how important it is for a child to be brought up in a healthy, loving family,” he took your hand in his, gently squeezing it.

“But Sirius, we are in the middle of a war,” you retorted, still unsure of your ability of bringing up a child.

“We are in the middle of a war now and we were in the middle of a war over a decade ago. You can’t stop the circle of life because of evil people. Don’t think about all the negativities. Think about the fact that I love you, you love me, and we will have a beautiful bundle of joy who we will love just as much,” a content smile spread across Sirius’ face. “At least little Teddy will have a playmate,” he chuckled playfully as he pulled you up into a standing position and sneaked his arms around your waist. “I love you and I already love that little ankle-biter more than anything,” he whispered into your ear.

“I have no idea how I got to be so lucky to have you,” you replied with tears filling up your eyes.

“Those better be happy tears,” he raised a questioning brow, his foolish smile still plastered across his face.

“Only,” you chuckled as you cupped his face and pulled him down to meet your lips halfway. “I love you so much,” you breathed against his lips, before you closed the gap between the two of you once again.

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stucky-starnes · 3 years

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Gleam and Glow

Chapter 1

Pairing: Grey! Bucky Barnes x Fem! Reader

Word count: 3,374

Description: The reader has been held captive by their own mother their whole life, taught to believe the world is bad and that they need to be protected from it. That their gift needs to be protected from it. They possess 70 feet of hair with healing properties and some people will do anything for a chance at peace.

General Warnings: This story contains dark elements and various dark characters!! Do not read if this makes you uncomfortable!!!, kidnapping, violence, language, angst, whump, for the purposes of the story the reader has 70ft foot long hair that glows gold- this does not change regardless of hair color or texture, inspired by the movie Tangled.

Chapter Warnings: kidnapping, manhandling, betrayal, mention of trafficking (selling/buying of a human), John Walker, very naive reader, brief sexual implications,arguments, un-gendered pet names,choking, illusion to sexual harassment, language, please read at your own discretion.

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK, REBLOGS ARE WELCOME AND APPRECIATED

A majority of your childhood was peaceful. You got to do all the normal kid things- of course you were never totally sure what a ‘normal’ kid thing was on account of the fact that you’d actually never met another kid but, it felt normal enough. Aside from the very abnormal ‘birth defect’ you were ‘gifted’ with. You stopped considering your magical abilities as a gift by the time you were seventeen, when your mother made it abundantly clear that you could never leave the tower, you could never go outside, and you could never cut your hair.

The only thing more annoying than the seventy foot long tresses was your mother. According to her, your father was a sloppy one night stand she found in a tavern. He was a love em’ and leave em’ type of guy; he gave your mother one great romantic night and then disappeared off the face of the earth. You’ve never met him. You’ve never met anybody. Your mother has always been your only companion. She was a beautiful woman, she said you take after her more than your dad. While she was gorgeous and protective, she was also passive aggressive, rash, and ostentatious. If it was possible for her to get out of being “the bad guy” she lunged, dragging you under at the first chance. When you were younger she would tell you stories about the outside, she made it seem like a gorgeous place. She described the kingdom and the many villages outside its walls. She started with all the good things until you showed interest in escaping, then, she gave you the truth. She began to spin tales of roads rich with crime, vigilante gangs, covert groups of thugs, and rebel Viking camps. From what you could piece together, the rebel Viking camps were the greatest concern.

The rebel Viking groups weren’t actually Vikings. Your mother had said they called them The Vikings because of their rugged and brutal lifestyle. The camp they occupy is more like a small village, the structures following Norse architectural style, chalk-full of criminals and runaways. Runaways. Your mother had always explained to you that when young girls ran away from their mothers they ended up in that village living a life of crime. The very thought of falling into the wrong hands has kept you from sneaking out or from begging to leave the tower. You found ways to be content, ways to keep busy.

The tower wasn’t as big as it looked from the outside, the only living space was at the very top of the tower. The top of the tower had about two floors worth of open space, minimal and organized in the lower level and very maximalist in the bedrooms and wall decor. Mother said the rest of the tower below was sturdy white brick and vine, aged by time and the weather. Most of the exterior bricks were cracked or crumbling, so all the support for the turret came from the tower’s solid core. The roof was a chipped and rusty blue color mostly concealed by untamed ivy growth, which also hid the entrance to the tower’s turret. To your home. The only way in and out of the tower was an intricate pulley system made from twisted vine and rope. Originally, mother had used your hair to get into the turret, until one day a strand snapped from the pressure, dying and losing its magic. In an effort to protect your gift, you helped your mother make the pulley.

Crafting things was just one of the many ways you spent your time in the tower. After you’d turned eighteen your mother didn’t stick around much, if at all, leaving at night to go to the palace or the tavern, sometimes coming back in the morning and sometimes being gone for a day or two. With so much time alone the only option was to learn how to entertain yourself. Reading books, cooking, painting, testing the information you soaked up from all of the books, sewing holes in clothes, polishing leather, polishing silver, dusting, drawing in the dust. It’s a really long list. If there’s more to add you add it, forever stretching the possibilities. As the sun started to go down however, it started to seep in just how repetitive and predictable your daily activities had become. While you knew leaving the tower would be a horrible and dangerous mistake, you couldn’t help but long to be outside. To feel the grass between your fingers or to stand out in the sun, somewhere other than where it leaks through the turrets window entrance. It could never happen. Knowing this was an impossibility kept an icy grip on your stomach, a lonely sort of feeling, naturally touch starved by fate. It’s been years since the last time you asked to leave. Much before you knew how dangerous it really was out there. Asking one more time couldn’t really hurt could it? You’d be twenty soon enough, just one touch wouldn’t hurt anyone.

Mother had left early in the morning, off to do some much needed grocery shopping; if she hadn’t decided to stop by the tavern she would be home very soon. Too soon to come up with a better plan. Quickly you started to prepare for her to come home, sweeping the dining area and pulling out the utensils needed to make a special stew recipe you remember she had enjoyed. If she was going to say yes she needed to be buttered up first. Once the cooking utensils were nicely organized on or beside the unlit stove, and the dust was done away with, it was time to make quick work of anything she could use against your argument. Rushing to one of your most treasured bookshelves you pulled a discarded velvet scrap from the back of one of your more worn astronomy books. The midnight blue fabric had been torn from one of your favorite dresses when you were sixteen, unwilling to part with the shredded material, it was quickly fashioned into a long braided bookmark. Since then you’ve opted for shorter than floor length gowns or comfortable riding pants and tunics. The supposedly “masculine” style annoyed mother to no end but then again she really couldn’t understand how suffocating the corsets could become, or how difficult it was to fasten them without getting hair caught beneath the strings.

Unbraiding the bookmark allowed it to become one long thick strand, setting it on the dining table, you went to gather your hair. For the most part, you tried to keep it close to yourself. Getting any part snagged or wrapped around something was more of a pain in the ass than taking the time to gather it together. Gathering so much hair was difficult, it took time and it was unbelievably heavy. Once you were finally able to get it all in one place you started the tedious task of braiding. In order to braid it up enough to keep it off the floor you split it into three sections, braiding those separately before braiding them up into a complex Dutch braid. It took nearly two hours to finish so you could finally tie up the end with the dismantled bookmark. The complexity allowed the braid to settle halfway down your calves, keeping it neat and off the ground. Now all that was left to do was light the lanterns around the room and wait. Waiting for mother to get home was nerve wracking, if possible you’d busy yourself with starting the stew but you were fresh out of the most important ingredients.

“Y/n let down the vine!” Mother yelled from the bottom of the tower and the tension finally broke.

“Coming!” You sighed out in relief rushing to the window and lowering out the vine life you had made.

Once you were sure she was safely in the lift’s sling, you utilized the pulley system to begin pulling her up. The tower was around forty feet tall, making the trip up lengthy and difficult. When she was close enough to the window entrance you hooked the vine slack onto the wall hook, keeping it stationary, before quickly coming to help her in with the groceries. Taking the canvas grocery bags from her arms and into the kitchen, you started pulling out the items to take inventory on what she’d bought at the market.

“How was the market? Did that man give you trouble on the celery prices again?”

“Ugh doesn’t he always? Absolutely exhausting, he wanted double, and then there was a fight at the tavern again which I always have to break up.” She pulled out a chair at the dining table, sitting into it and slinging her feet up into the neighboring chair.

You slowed for a moment, pulling the bundle of carrots from the bag slower as you processed that she may be intoxicated which meant there’d be zero chance of having the conversation you desperately desired.

“You went to the tavern?” You asked, feigning excitement.

“Of course sweetheart, I promised that I would but I wasn’t there for long I promise.” She got up to meet you in the kitchen, resting her hands on your shoulders.

“Now what are we having? I’m absolutely starved.” She smiled.

“I was going to make that stew from last winter that you liked so much. Now that fall is settling in.” you started to add broth and small peeled potatoes to the pot.

“That sounds delightful darling, I’m going to go rest my eyes, call me when it’s done?” Mother started to walk away. It was now or never.

“Actually!” You cleared your throat., “Actually I was hoping I could talk to you about something.”

“Alright but let’s make this quick, mama’s feet are aching.” She turned back around to sit in another chair.

“Well as you know I’m almost twenty, an adult really and I’m already very responsible around the tower-“

“Y/n where is this going?” She interrupted, rubbing her temples.

“I want to go outside.” You turned to look at her.

“We’ve talked about this! It’s far too dangerous! You know what would happen if anyone discovered your gift!”

“I know, I know, but I’ve thought about it and no one would even know! I won’t tell anyone about it, and if they don’t know I have it then they don’t know how to use it, so it’s useless to them. If I just keep it braided I’ll be completely normal!” You came to sit across from her, hoping it’ll be convincing.

“No absolutely not, it’s much too risky! I have kept you safe for nearly twenty years! I am not stopping now! You’re far too young to understand but this is what’s best for you!” She got up and started to walk away again.

“But it’s not! I’ve never met anyone else! I’ve never had friends or met other people my own age! I’ve never even seen a real man!” You were absolutely desperate.

“Oh a man?! This is about men huh?! So you want to leave the safety of the home I built for you to go whore around for a man?!” She was absolutely furious, beyond cooling down.

“Mother no!” Your face was burning with embarrassment at the very suggestion of sexual activities.

“No truly I understand! You would rather leave this place and be used by men! Drained of your power in one of those Viking camps no doubt! I won’t hear another word, I’m going out for air and your attitude better be gone by the time I get back!” She walked over to the vine, untying it from the wall and setting it into a rustier pulley wheel that would let her down slowly, she was gone just as soon as she’d finished her sentence.

You had no choice but to sit in utter silence and shame. Swallowed by guilt that mother could ever consider you’d do that to her. As much as you wanted to leave and experience the real world, you desperately didn’t want to disappoint your mother or end up somewhere bad. Very quickly you dissolved into regret, backing over to try and undo what’s already been done, planning a way to forgiveness. Finishing the stew was the only way you knew how to start so you got to work, making this the best stew you could ever devise. Having never written the recipe down you had to go solely based on flavor and gut feeling. That was the best way to cook anyway. Once it had been spiced to taste you put the lid on the pot to let it simmer.

Almost immediately you found yourself overrun with anxiety, filled with a need to do something with your hands. To occupy your mind. There really wasn’t much to do in the tower to occupy you enough to erase this from the forefront of your mind. So you opted for the only thing that you could: cleaning. Your started polishing, dusting anything that you could and when there was nothing left you sat and you waited. The silence was absolutely deafening. You’d totally zoned out until you heard the rattling of the pot lid on the stove, snapping your head to it only to see the stew boiling over.

“Shit!” You rushed to turn it off, burning your hand in the process as you cleaned up the mess. Suddenly you were no longer hungry.

Opting to leave the stew on the stove for whenever mother would return you left the kitchen, going to your room as you cradled your hand gently. Tears stung your eyes, threatening to drip through your lashes and you curled up on your bed. Reaching for your braid with your uninsured hand, you gently took the end and rested it over your burned palm, reaching to wipe away some loose tears. Whether the tears were from the pain or from emotional discourse you couldn’t be sure. After drying your tears you closed your injured fingers around the large amount of hair, and began to hum a soft familiar melody. As the melody continued your hair began to glow a brilliant gold, almost glittery in color. Once the shimmer reached your palm, the heat faded and the wound healed. You were able to breathe. You looked to your palm, it was as soft and unharmed as it had been that morning. As it had always been. No scars or leftover pain. Just smooth healthy skin.

You couldn’t be bothered to really prepare for bed. The dress you wore was moveable, the corset easily undone as it tied in the front rather than in the back. Laying back you took a deep breath, closing your eyes momentarily to let go of all the stress that you could. After a minute of peace you pushed yourself up and off the bed, walking over to the dark wood armoire, opening it to look in the mirror, you sighed looking at your dress. There was stew on the navy skirt and what looked like a sizable carrot. You’d have to change to sleep. Lifting the skirt up closer you plucked off the carrot and disposed of it in the nearby waste basket. Returning to the armoire you flipped your braid back over your shoulder and checked the white sleeves of the off the shoulder blouse, slid your hands over the black corset, grabbing the tied strings from the vertex of the sweetheart neckline you untied the knot. Just as you’d finished untying the security knot you heard a loud grinding bang from the lower level. Pausing to listen you grew concerned.

“Mother? Are you alright?” You called gently.

When you didn’t receive a response you dropped the corset strings and left your bedroom, looking over the bannister you were met with the worst sight you could possibly have imagined. A large piece of the stone floor was broken and pushed out of the ground, slid off to the side and two large men climbed out of the dark hole below. Half a million questions filled your head. How was there a space under the floor? How did these men find you? Did they know who you were? There wasn’t time to think, you had to act. Silently and quickly you snuck back into your bedroom, burning out the lamps and climbing into the armoire as best as you could. Tilting your chin up to silence your breathing you listened. Waiting. Thinking. The men were much bigger than you thought a man would be. From what you could make out they dressed in dark clothing. Leather. Worn and hardly taken care of if at all. They were similar heights. One a redhead and the other blonde, both with rugged facial hair. You only had a brief look and the adrenaline pumping through your veins was making it difficult to focus.

“I am never doing that shit again, forty feet of crumbling bricks and thirty feet of rope, you seriously didn’t think that through?!” You could hear them arguing.

“It didn’t look that tall alright? Can we just find the chick and get out of here? I lost my good boots in a poker game with trash panda and if I don’t win them back he’s gonna tear them apart.”

It was clear they were coming for you. The only thing you could do was hope mother came home or that they didn’t see you behind all the other clothing in the armoire. The stairs creeped. Once. Twice. There was only one creaky step. They were both coming up. You held your breath.

“Food on the stove and the lamp in here is still warm. She was here recently.” They made it into your bedroom.

“If I had to guess I’d say she’s still here.” The footsteps stopped. It was silent.

Suddenly, the hem of your skirt was yanked-it had been caught in the door-and then the armoire burst open. The blonde man grabbed your arm as you struggled, ripping you from the small dark space and out into the open. He spun you around, pressing your back to his chest, his left forearm braced across your neckline and gripped your right shoulder. His right hand held a sharp silver blade to your heart.

“Well, well, well, Princess did we catch you at a bad time? These corset strings are so very loose for company.” The blonde man taunted, using the tip of his blade to pull on the cords.

You gripped this forearm, pushing back closer to his chest in an effort to get away from his blade as you struggled.

“P-please just leave me alone, I won’t tell any-anyone.” You stuttered, trying to stay calm the way your mother had taught you.

“We have plans for you, this hair of yours… hear there’s some people willing to pay a pretty penny for just a touch.” The red headed man stroked your braid, you jerked your head away.

“Oh oh oh” the blonde man laughed. “She’s a feisty one, are you sure we have to deliver her so soon? Could be fun…”

“Oh c’mon man don’t be gross he wants her unharmed. Mostly. C’mon just cloth her so we can go. Boots remember??” The red head said, grabbing your wrists and tying them together roughly. He took the dagger from the blonde, continuing to hold it in its position as the blond reached into his pocket.

“No no no no no please please I’ll give you anything you want just leave me alone!” You begged, swerving your head away from the blondes clothed hand as it moved towards your mouth.

“Bitch stop fussing around!” He slid his left forearm up to your throat, both choking you and effectively stabilizing your head long enough to clamp the cloth over your mouth and nose.

It hardly took thirty seconds before your vision started to swim and your vision started to fade to black.

“We’re already late. He’s waiting.” One of the men said as he slipped a cloth bag over your head. Your hearing went out, senses dulled as you gave in the the dark.

#marvel fanfiction #marvel reader insert #reader insert #x reader #bucky x reader series #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky fic #bucky x you #dark!bucky x reader #grey!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x reader #Gleam and Glow #bucky Barnes tangled au!#tangled au!#marvel au

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noctualilith · 3 years

Text

Our Past Got Us Here

We all love the Harvard FinnLo pining, but after the amazing and painful art Haz posted today we needed an extra dose of fluff to balance the feels. Co-written with the amazing and eloquent @ais-for-alex , the characters and universe by queen of the hazelhoots @lumosinlove

The box with the ominous title Harvard in blood red sharpie should have been heavier for all the memories it carried, Logan thought as he hefted it on his desk in his new room. He was all moved in with Finn and Leo, unpacked and fitting seamlessly in their space just as he did in their lives… but for this one last box.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, he reminded himself that whatever he unearthed was firmly in the past now, and his present was so much lighter and happier than anything he would find in there.

He heard Finn and Leo moving around in the apartment and he knew they were there for him if he needed them. He knew Finn saw the box and suspected what was inside, if the way he was lurking close to his door was any indication. He also knew that this was his task first and foremost - to unpack the past and claim it fully as his own, with all the good and the bad it brought. This was where he met Finn. This was where he fell for Finn. This was where he carried the burning flame of all he felt for him, held it close and hid it away from everyone including himself, until it burned him from the inside. He could still feel the hot rush of shame and hurt he was so well used to pushing back under and avoiding at all costs.

Opening the box would mean coming face to face with it for the first time after years, no more deflecting.

He was ready. He was home, their home, the three of them together and he was ready.

He pulled the lid off the box and was met with Finn’s warm gaze staring at him from a treasured photograph lying on top, the two of them only a few weeks after Logan got to Harvard, throwing him back into a memory that cut with precision right into those places that hurt the most. Years ago, he had packed that box in a state of numb resignation, putting away his heart piece by piece, alone in his room back at Harvard because Finn had left him for a dream and it hurt too much to see the reminders all around him. He had been crying too hard by the time he placed that last photo in the box, Finn’s smiling face blurred by the tears and hidden away when he closed the box and tucked it away. Now the feeling roared to life in his chest, loud and hungry for a resolution.

He wasn’t ready.

He must have made a noise, or maybe Finn had a sixth sense for when Logan needed him because the next thing he knew were his arms wrapping him in a hug, the safest place on Earth as far as Logan was concerned.

“Lo, baby, we’re okay.” Finn murmured into his hair as Logan hid his face in his neck, breathing him in. They were okay, they were great, but there were still some things unsaid between them, an unspoken agreement to leave that box unopened for another day.

Well, it was open now and waiting for them on the desk innocently.

Logan took a breath and lifted his head, searching for a kiss and the reassurance that came with it. He wasn’t alone, with Finn thousands of miles away, both of them silent and hurting. He was here, with his boys, allowed to touch whenever he wanted. They were good at reminding him of that, too. He needed that reminder now.

“Tell me.” He knew Finn would understand what he was asking for. Logan wasn’t good at talking, but Finn could read him like an open book after all those years. Logan only realized how much after he stopped pushing him away and allowed himself to love and be loved exactly how he’d yearned for.

“We’re okay. I love you. I’m never leaving you. Leo is never leaving us. You moved in with us and everything is finally as it should be, because being away from you feels like I’m missing a part of myself and fuck, I’m done with that. Do you know how important you’re to me? I’ll spend the rest of our lives telling you, Lo.” Finn was cradling his face in his hands and pressing a kiss to his lips after every declaration.

Logan’s hands were grasping at the fabric of Finn’s hoodie - Leo’s hoodie, actually - and that brought an unbidden smile to his face, helping the words hit home. Finn, in Leo’s hoodie, in his room. He didn’t have to do this alone, do anything alone, ever again.

“I know, mon amour. It’s just-- we haven’t really talked about-- I know I wasn’t in a hurry to unpack all that and you probably weren’t either but I want to, now. I think I need to.” He gestured to the innocent-looking box, watching Finn step closer to it and look inside, emotions playing across his face. He knew what it represented, of course he did. He probably had one just like that at some point, or maybe his was still unpacked too.

Finn reached into the box and picked up the photo from the top, the same one that Logan could barely look at just moments ago. He held it out to Logan with a wistful smile. “Let’s unpack this one together, what do you say?”

“Yeah, I’d really like to do that.” Logan’s voice was shaky, but he was determined. They’d probably end up crying, he could already feel the hot press of tears behind his eyes just thinking about all the memories that they were going to bring to light, but he wanted them all. He wanted to touch them, to put them up on his walls and see them every day without hurting for their past selves. A story of how they got to here and now, of how they lost each other and then found each other again. How they found their missing piece and built a home together.

He took the photo from Finn, their fingers brushing and unfailingly sending sparks across Logan’s skin. It’s been like that since he could remember, Finn’s touch like a brand, whether accidental and forcedly platonic for the longest time, or purposeful now but no less exciting with the promise of forever. It made him feel brave, so he cast around for the tape and tore a piece to stick it to the back of the photo. First one for the wall. First memory to unpack.

“You remember this one?” he asked Finn while he picked a place for it, pressing it to the wall and making sure it held. “I loved you already, when we took this photo. I was trying to convince myself that I couldn’t, but I did.” He heard Finn behind him suck in a breath, but he stayed quiet, letting him speak. Logan turned a bit, just enough to reach his hand back, wordlessly asking for the next photo, sticking it to the wall without looking at it first.

It was a photo of the two of them at a party. At the party.

“Lo--” Finn started behind him, already gearing up to tell him they could do this another day, Logan could hear it in his voice. It’s happened often enough. Logan was sick of it, of swallowing the pain and the tears and hiding in the safe topics of their everyday life, like what to get for dinner and who should drive.

“I’m sorry.” He interrupted Finn, softly but with determination, still looking at the photo. He felt Finn pressing himself along his back, one arm coming up to drape over his shoulder, his hand pressing over his heart. There was another photo of them, just like this, a favourite of Logan’s and currently in Finn’s room, another piece of his heart captured forever. He leaned back into the embrace, drawing strength from the unwavering support. Now, then, always, Finn was by his side no matter how often Logan pushed him away. He was done pushing him away.

“I shouldn’t have done that, at the party. It was a shitty thing to do. I’m sorry. You deserved so much better.” Logan felt the first tear roll down his face, felt Finn’s breath stutter in his chest.

“I’m sorry too. You weren’t the only one not talking about it, you know? It’s on me, too. And we’re better now, aren’t we?”

Logan nodded wordlessly, breathing through the swell of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him when he thought about that night. A miracle turned into a secret and sitting heavy and unaddressed instead of being treasured as it should have been.

Finn spoke for the both of them, needing to acknowledge in words what happened. “That was our first kiss, Lo. I still remember it, like it happened just yesterday. I loved you already, when we took this photo. I couldn’t believe what happened after. I’m glad it did.”

Logan turned to him at that, surprised. “You’re glad? I blamed it on being drunk and then never talked about it. It might as well not have happened at all! Our first kiss was a lie and I can never change it. How--” Finn pressed a kiss to his lips and stayed there, interrupting his rant and waiting for him to kiss back before pulling away again, keeping their foreheads together.

“I’m glad because we’re here now. We’re talking about it now. It was real to me, Lo. I was afraid then, too. I’m not anymore, you’re not anymore. We found each other. We found Leo. That’s what matters.” Finn’s eyes were swimming in tears but he was smiling, and Logan couldn’t help but kiss that smile right off his lips. “You’re right. That’s what matters. Gimme the next one. Let’s talk about all of them.”

The wall was slowly filled with memories and their weight was lifted from their unspoken past word for word as they remembered each moment for the good and the bad. So often Logan had felt close to crumbling under the guilt, but Finn was right there holding him close and offering him absolution with each new piece out of the box, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

Beside photos, there were other things too. Movie tickets, four of them from the same movie they kept going back for. A receipt from a dinner at a roadie, just the two of them, where Finn doodled stick figures playing hockey while they waited for dessert. Crumpled notes that Finn would sometimes leave stuck to Logan’s door, sometimes a shopping list, sometimes an inside joke. Logan kept them all.

FInally, the box was empty and the wall was full. Logan felt exhausted but his heart was lighter than it had been in years, brimming with love for his boys and gratitude for the road that brought him here. He and Finn stood shoulder to shoulder in the middle of the room, looking at the wall, tears drying on both their faces.

“I want Leo” Logan spoke into the comfortable silence, pulling on Finn’s arm, suddenly eager to have them both close, to bask in the reality of having them, of being loved by them. “Come on Harz, let’s find him.”

Finn reeled him back in for one more kiss. “Love you, Lo.”

“Love you, too. Love Leo. Want Leo now.”

“Yeah, me too. Come on, he’s in the kitchen.” Logan was already squirming away and Finn let him pull them from the room and towards the kitchen where they could hear the clatter of utensils. He did the hard work and now he wanted his rewards. He wanted his boys close.

Hand in hand, they padded down the hall towards the kitchen, towards their missing piece, towards their future, leaving all the guilt and the hurt finally where it belonged; in their past.

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

Leo brushed a bit of flour from his hands. He suppressed the urge to wander into Logan’s room where he knew his partners were unpacking more than just the old boxes beaten by years of hiding in the closet. Those old boxes that carried memories of Finn and Logan’s days spent so close to each other but separated by an ocean of feelings that fit between their dorm beds.

No, Leo had to let them unpack together. Finn and Logan needed to be the ones to pull each memory from the moth eaten cardboard. They needed to be the ones to hold them close to their hearts and feel, and once the hurt of all those years past had been aired away they could finally hang those memories on the walls to look at without that bitter hurt anymore.

Leo would wait though, he would wait for them to emerge from the solemn confessional of Logan’s room, he would wait for them to be ready, he would wait until they wanted him there to pull them back together. He would wait for them forever. Luckily though he didn’t have to wait forever. Leo turned as he heard their footsteps padding closer to the kitchen.

“Hello, my loves,” he said as Finn and Logan peeked their heads in to see what he was doing.

“Mmm,” Finn hummed in greeting and came up to press a soft sweet kiss to Leo’s lips. Out of the corner of his eye Leo saw Logan hop up to sit on the counter. When Finn finally pulled away his lips were pulled into a gentle smile and his eyes as warm and sweet as melted chocolate. Leo sighed at the sight, but turned to Logan who was softly kicking the cabinet doors where his feet dangled from the counter.

“Hi baby,” he whispered, slotting himself between Logan’s knees and running his hands soft against his thighs. Logan sighed and wrapped his legs around Leo’s waist pulling him in closer.

“You all unpacked?” Leo asked so softly for a moment he wasn’t sure Logan had actually heard him. But he saw that look in Logan’s bright green eyes that meant he was thinking, choosing his words carefully before he tried to speak. So Leo waited, he reached up to lightly trace his fingers against the scratchy stubble on Logan’s jaw as his partner gathered his thoughts. Leo felt Finn settle in behind him, pressing his chest flush to his back and rest his chin on his shoulder. He turned his face inwards pressing closer just to place a kiss to the soft skin on Leo’s neck.

“Yeah,” Logan finally answered with a sigh, he turned his face to nuzzle into Leo’s palm. “It was- it was hard,” he whispered, then looked over at Finn still resting his head on Leo’s shoulder and smiled softly. “But as hard as it was to live through, and remember, I don’t think I would change even a minute of it.”

Leo gave him a bit of a puzzled look at that, why on earth wouldn’t he change it if he could? Why would he be willing to live through that pain? Logan chuckled lightly at his confusion and leaned forward to press a chaste kiss to the corner of Leo’s mouth.

“Mon amour, I would live every minute of it again and not change a thing, because mine and Finn's past is what led us to you. And you know what? Thinking of it like that, it doesn’t hurt at all.”

Leo couldn’t help the sheen of tears that glazed his eyes, or the sniffles as he reached forward to pull Logan fully into his arms, holding him tight like he couldn’t bear to leave even an inch of space between them.

“We love you so much Nutty,” Finn whispered, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck, “you make it easier. God, you make everything better.”

“Guys,” Leo sighed at the feel of them pressed so close against him, “this wasn't supposed to be about me.”

Logan reached out to cup his face, his eyes bright and sure as they gazed into Leo’s own, “sweetheart, it’s about us, all three of us, together. Our past, and yours, they were stepping stone to get to this exact moment.”

“Leo,” Finn said softly, he pulled away slightly and turned Leo to look at him so his back was now pressed against Logan's chest where he was still sitting on the counter. Logan twined his arms around Leo’s torso as Finn tilted his chin just so until he couldn't look anywhere but those chocolate eyes. “It’s time we all moved on from the past, ok? Instead, lets focus on building a future, one for all of us, that we’ll get to spend the rest of our lives cultivating.”

Leo swallowed hard, Finn's words seemed to crawl into his heart mending cracks and fissures he hadn’t realized were there. His words put to rest that horrible feeling that crept into Leo’s mind in the dead of night, in those moments he was all alone with no one to soothe away the fear, that he was the odd man out. That one day Finn and Logan would realize that they didn't need him, because they already had a foundation to build on.

“I love you guys so fucking much,” he breathed, and felt Logans arms tighten around him. Finn smiled and leaned in, pressing closer gently until they were so close they were breathing the same air.

“D’accord, d’accord,” Logan mumbled into his shoulder, he breathed in deeply then continued, “no more sad for tonight.”

“I think I can get on board with that,” Leo said with a chuckle.

“Same,” Finn agreed before finally pulling away.

Leo grinned and padded back to the other side of the kitchen where he had left ingredients for dinner strewn across the counter, “Well, do you guys want to help me make dinner then?”

“Le, my precious Peanut Butter, I need you to understand this;” Finn said seriously, “just because we have grown emotionally does not mean our skills in the kitchen have improved in the slightest.”

“Well yeah, and they never will if you don’t let me teach you,” Leo teased, snagging a dish towel and snapping Finn in the thigh.

Logan laughed at Finn's pout as he rubbed the welt now forming and jumped down from the counter, “Alright Nutty, teach us your ways, impart your vast cooking wisdom upon us.”

Leo rolled his eyes at their dramatics but set them to work nonetheless. Finn was tasked with peeling potatoes, with a stern warning from Leo about slicing off his finger. As he was prepping the meat, Leo glanced over at Logan who seemed to be having far too much fun smashing the crackers to make a breading. He couldn't help but grin as he felt warm affection rush through his veins, like he had injected pure love directly into his bloodstream. Leo couldn't wait to feel this for the rest of his life, to build and grow with them, and love them for as long as humanly possible.

It wasn't long before their kitchen was filled with laughter, and banter, and music played over the bluetooth speakers. The three of them worked in tandem, until the delicious aroma of home cooked food was wafting through their apartment. And so what if Finns mashed potatoes were a bit soupy, and what if the veggies Logan chopped were a bit uneven, it was something that they created together, Leo wanted to savor every bite.

#lumosinlove #coast to coast #sweater weather #inspired by coast to coast #inspired by sweater weather #coast to coast fic #sweater weather fic #O'Knutzy #Finn O'Hara #Logan Tremblay #Leo Knut #FinnLo #Harvard pining but with comfort #domestic fluff #needed fluff after that art Haz hit us with today #here is our humble offering

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deepdonutkid · 3 years

Text

Buy me a drink and let me tell you why I need it

Authors note

Thank you very much for the request @caelys I had fun writing it and actually I thought about modern!au John way too much. Like I made a model for his apartment and a playlist and I could possibly draw ten more fan arts of him.

It takes place in a modern setting, but it starts before John goes to the military. He and Tommy still work in the Garrison, besides some other shadier jobs. Arthur is a car mechanic or something like that. Ada still goes to school and Finn too. Polly and Michael are not mentioned here.

Female reader x bartender!John BIG PUNK VIBES HERE!

Actually, this was going to be a multi-chapter fic with intense slow-burn, but whatever there it is. Just say one thing and I’ll write a second part!

tagging @bonniesgoldengirl

Warning: drinking, drug use, marijuana, swearing, infidelity mentioned, a little bittersweet

Word count: 2348

The garrison was not a pub for everyone. It was full of gangsters and other low-life scum. A woman was a curiosity. Working there wasn’t pleasant, but John didn’t complain.

It was the only legal job he got after graduating. He worked at the Garrison twice a week, usually on Friday and Saturday.

The nice thing about this work was the free beer and he could make as many cigarette breaks as he liked.

Nevertheless, John was a little pissed that night, because he could see his friends drinking over there and he had to stand behind the counter. Tommy’s orders!

“Fuck off, Tommy”, he mumbled while cleaning bar. Of course, his brother didn’t hear that, he was busy making some phone calls. John didn’t want to know, who Tommy was calling or why. Probably their next job.

But while he was still on the first one, he didn’t want to think about more work. He already had enough. It was past ten and John hadn’t eaten for hours.

At first, he was to occupied from his work to notice you. You sat down at the bar and cleared your throat. It wasn’t on purpose or to get the bartenders attention. Actually, you just wanted your peace. You hated being trapped in your new apartment, while everything was still so empty. Since you moved, so much changed in your life, but you still felt lonely.

That’s why, you walked straight into the nearest pub, when you couldn’t bear the weight of your own thoughts. But now you realized you hadn’t a penny left. Or at least not enough for a beer. “Get me a glass of water please.”, you said to the bartender, who kept starring at you. First you thought he was a little weird and also a little intimidating, but then you understood what he expected from you. An order, of course.

“A glass of water?”, he asked with a grin on his face: “Really? You know, where you are, girl?”

Now you looked confused. Maybe there was an unspoken rule, to not order a soft drink in this place, but how you should know? After all, you’ve been pretty new to Small Heath. Three days ago you moved into your new place. It was small, but it was yours. Your private space and your sanctuary. “A pub… maybe?”, you joked: “So what about the water?”

“Ah, I get it… It’s the end of month.”, he responded.

You laughed and shook your head. “I’m always broke. Money is not my thing.”

“Not mine either.”

Now he got your attention. You took a closer look at the bartender. He was somehow handsome. A pretty face for a fucked-up place like this. Then you noticed the tattoos on his arms, that peaked out of the sleeves of his shirt. “Dead Kennedys. Nice”, you mumbled and smiled slightly, barely visible.

He put a filled glass in front of you and smirked. “No need to pay.”

Your eyes widened. That bartender really surprised you. He was nicer than he looked like. You took a sip from the glass and nodded. “Thanks… I guess.”

The water was okay, but everything you wished for was a beer or a whiskey. Something to stop your brain from thinking. However, you nipped the glass very patiently, because you didn’t want to leave this place too soon. You didn’t know the neighborhood and chances were high, you got lost on your way around town.

The bartender seemed to notice your tension. “Do you want to drink something else?”

“A beer would be nice.” You croaked

The handsome man behind the bar nodded and pulled out a pint. “A beer, it is.”

You didn’t know it yet, but you were the only thing tonight, that made his work bearable. Everything else was so boring and you were new in town. Every little thing about you was so exciting for him. Staring with the fact that you stumbled into the Garrison without knowing its reputation. Then your little comment about his shirt, yes, he heard that. And your overall appearance was just the cherry on top.

The leather jacket, the ripped jeans and your washed-out Kurt Cobain shirt said a lot about you and John was ready to listen. What else should he do in the next couple of hours until his shift ended?

“I’m John.”, he said and served you a beer.

You noticed the twinkle with his eye and replied with a shy smile. “Just call me Y/n”

The two of you shook hands and exchanged a strange glance. Was he flirting with you? No, of course not, you brushed it off. It was part of his job, to be nice to his customers.

After a few sips of your beer, you calmed down a bit, but not enough. You fumbled in the inside pocket of your jacket for your package. You smoked Dunhill and probably started way to early in life. An end of your smoking addiction was not in sight. The package was already half empty, when you opened it.

“Fuck” you cursed and signed. How could you make it to your next pay check with just a few cigarettes left? Maybe skip dinner a few times.

“Cigarettes are empty too?” he asked “I would give you one of mine, but they are empty too.”

“No, I still have some left, but not enough until July. Maybe not even enough for the rest of this night.”, you explained.

You took two out of the package and put it back. “Want one? I don’t have money, but at least I still have something to smoke.”

“Whatcha smoking?” “Dunhill”, you answered.

A wide grin appeared on his face. “Me too.”

“I know, I shouldn’t… but I just can’t quit.” You shrugged and lit your cigarette.

John brushed it off. “Fuck em. I think, I’m never gonna quit too. This shit just stays with you forever.”

“True”, you signed and took a deep drag from your cigarette.

“So… why am I the only girl in this place? Is there something I should know?”

“Nah, not really. It’s just…”, he began to explain, but then paused to smoke. You liked how he leaned against the counter. Like there was no cooler person in this room. “I don’t know… most women don’t like it here. Too filthy or whatever.”

You nodded and looked around. Everything smelled like ashtray and whiskey. There was dirt lying around. Nobody seemed to bother, so you chose not to either.

“And you are new in Birmingham?”, he asked: “All the locals know to stay away from this place.”

Again, you nodded and hid your smile behind your hand. “I just grabbed my bass and some clothes and left.”

“Bass?” Now, John was hooked. Since he could walk and talk, he had a thing for music. Especially rock and punk and he blabber about his favorite bands all day. Of course, he never learned to play an instrument, because his family was too poor, but he stole every record he could lay hands on. “You play bass?”

“Yeah, I can also play guitar, but I sold mine to get here. I started playing in a band now and I really hope this is going to work out… somehow.”, you explained

“Maybe.”, he said: “I can ask Harry, if you can play here. Live music would be great.”

You beamed and jumped almost over the counter. “Really?”

“But I need to listen to a song first. Otherwise, I can’t do it with good conscience.”

“Yeah, sure thing! When I get the promo tape, I’ll come back here.” Finally, some good news for you. After all you went though you really needed that and right now you just couldn’t stop smiling.

Three beers later, you were already in an in-depth discussion about music and which bands paved the way for punk.

After six more beers, you danced to the song he put on. John watched you with the purest joy. Nobody has ever danced in the Garrison. Good for him, that Tommy left, because “something important” occurred.

On beer twelve you sang for all the man to watch. The Shelby just could take his eyes off you, even when you didn’t hit the right tone.

He even caught you, when you fell over the counter.

But in the end the bar had to close and you still had nowhere to go, so you waited for him to finish his work. It took twice as long, because John kept staring at you in awe.

After everything was done, he asked, if he should walk you home and you agreed. Actually, you didn’t say yes, you hugged him and rubbed your cheek against his. Then you made a purring sound and told him your address.

You even hold hands with him, but that was mainly, because you were to drunk to walk straight. But you had plenty of time to sober up along the way.

Finally arriving at the front door, you had to stop laughing and catch a breath to manage to say something. “Do you…”, you began and paused, because you didn’t know how to phrase it.

Without hesitation he answered: “Yes! Yes… I mean, it would be cool.”

And again, you started laughing. “I was about to ask, if you want to watch the stars on my rooftop, but I didn’t know you were going to be so excited about this.”

He scratched his neck and chuckled. “Yeah, we were talking about the same thing.”

“Oh honey, I’m taken”, you explained

That last three words crumbled his hopes, that have been build up since you walked into the Garrison.

But he was a gentleman and he shouldn’t expect anything from a woman. After all, you don’t owe him anything. Even though he thought you were flirting with him the entire night.

He just bit his lip and shrugged. “No problem here.”

Then he added: “But we might not see the stars though all the smog and light pollution.”

“Let’s give it a try.” you opened the door and smiled.

You took the steps up to your apartment, John followed you closely. When the two of you entered the small flat, everything was still dark. The alarm clock next to your mattress said four in the morning.

John was so curious, when he looked around. “You really didn’t lie, when you said, you just took you bass and nothing more.”

“Yup”, you mumbled and walked to a pile of clothes. “Do you want to smoke one with me?”

When you pulled out the joint, John grinned at you. His cheeks were still red. “Why not?”

Climbing out of your window and onto the roof sounded way easier than it turned out to be.

But the view was great, and that was enough.

You lit the joint and inhaled the white smoke, just to blow it out again.

“No stars in sight, babe”, he noted while looking up

He was right, but you were still glad, that he came up here with you. You feared the moment of being alone again. “Yes, but the view… is amazing.”

You didn’t notice, he was glaring at you when he said: “Yeah, it really is.”

Then you turned to him to pass him the joint.

John took one drag and coughed. “That shit’s strong.”

At first you tried not to laugh, but ended up giggling anyway.

“What?”, he asked with blunt curiosity.

When you calmed down, you had to tell him the joke that just crossed your mind: “I like my weed like my sex… keeps me paralyzed for a while.”

That was the last thing he thought he would hear from you. He would believe his ears, if he hadn’t starred at your lips the entire time. “Uhm, okay.”, he whispered and hit the joint one more time.

The longer you sat there with him, the more comfortable you two got. After talking the whole night about music and artists and stuff, you finally opened up.

You told him why you left your home town and moved to Birmingham.

And he told you in return something you would have expected either. “Just a few more months and I’ll be in the military.”

John didn’t look like a soldier or somebody who took pride in defending his country. You couldn’t understand, how a wonderful guy like him ended up serving the forces. It just didn’t seem to fit in. But then again, you knew him for a few hours now, so who are you to judge?

“I’m scared”, he whispered: “that nobody but my family will write me… and I’m going to be all alone in the middle of nowhere.”

That feeling was all too familiar for you. Your heart ached, when you glared at him. “I write you.”, you promised. “And phone you and what else.”

“You would?” His voice was full of doubt. “We don’t know each other really.”

It was true, but you always kept your promises. You moved closer to him, to hold his hand and look him in the eyes. “I would. I know this feeling too well.”

For one second you thought he was going to kiss you, and you were ready. The drumroll played, like it always did, when the first touch of two pairs of lips, unknown to each other, was close. But the drumroll was all you were going to get tonight. You kept staring at his beautiful mouth and how would it feel, when his lips meet yours. Infidelity has never been your thing and you would stay true to yourself, even when the chance was so tempting.

“Can you hold me?”, you asked, while avoiding his eyes. You felt pathetic for being so needy in front of a stranger, so you added: “Just for a while.”

John didn’t answer. He didn’t have to. Instead, he just pulled you in arms and stroke your back.

The two of you felt all alone in this broken world, but right there you met and became friends. What a weird thing to happen.

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky fookin blinders #peaky fucking blinders #john shelby x reader #john shelby x y/n #john shelby x you #female reader #peaky blinders modern au #joe cole

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