#i had the audacity to open the sliding door to let some cool air in | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

you-did-well-moon · 3 years

Text

Day6 Reaction to s/o learning their instrument while they're away

Type: Fluff, angst in Dowoon dont know what happened wasnt me

Word Count: 2.865

A/n: I took some creative freedom with why they were away but that is it. Keep in mind, I have no experience with instrument except for when I played the piano in 5th grade for like two weeks. Anyways, I hope you enjoy! - Moon

TW: small cuts, fight, second hand embarrassment

Sungjin

Sungjin was absolutely and devastatingly exhausted. His own guitar case felt like it was weighing him down tremendously, and he had a huge headache. Jae and Wonpil arguing in the back of the car was not helping in any way. It has been going on since they left the airport. He rubbed at his temples tiredly pressing his head against the cool window from his place in the passenger seat next to their manager.

Still, he couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at his lips as he thought about seeing you, probably curled up in the couch cheeks puffed from the snack you were inhaling. The pounding in his head lightened at the cute sight he would soon get to enjoy as he played with the loose threads of his old button up shirt.

True to Sungjin’s imagination, your form was sitting on the couch. Not true to his imagination, you were actually bent over something in your lap, lightly humming and bopping your head to the rhythm being produced by your still clumsy fingers. The guitar in your lap had gotten lighter as the days went by without your boyfriend, and in replacement of his touch, leaving your fingertips warm and tingling, it was small cuts you hadn’t bothered to bandage as it disrupted you when playing.

You missed Sungjin an abnormal amount. The cold spot in the bed or him making weird faces at you through the mirror in the mirror when brushing your teeth. You missed all of it. With a slight tremble in your chest you started playing the chorus to “You Were beautiful”.

You were so focused on trying to get it right you didn’t notice the door closing only to startle when you slightly looked up through your lidded eyes seeing the shadow looming over the coffee table. With a small yelp of surprise you jumped immediately looking up only to find your boyfriend staring at you with wide eyes.

His surprised expression made you shrink into yourself. You threw your head into your hands in pure embarrassment letting the guitar gently slide off your lap, hitting the floor with a soft thump. “Can you just pretend you didn’t see that I can’t believe I even tried learning all that by myself I” you cut yourself off with an un-pleased sigh shaking your head and looking at him with pleading eyes.

Your boyfriend continued in his frozen state for about five seconds before breaking out in the biggest smile rushing around the coffee table in which you panicked trying to get away from him with a squeal, but being too slow im the excitement that was usually in a much dormant state in Sungjin. The wrinkles near the corner of his eyes deepened adoringly, and his chest shook with soft laughter while he held you close.

There was a fond twinkle in his eye as Sungjin forgot any tiredness that clung to his bones and kissed the tips of your fingertips while maintaining eye contact. He kept your hands encased in his when scolding you for having such low faith in yourself and softly encouraging you. He would probably put little stitch band-aids on your fingertips and continue teaching you, sitting you on his lap and scolding you when you lose focus with a sharp poke at your ribs smiling when you giggled. This man just fell impossibly more in love with you.

“You shouldn’t say those things, look at you love, learning all alone and doing so well. I'm so proud. Would you rather have the elmo band-aids or the stitch band-aids… I don’t know about you but Elmo kinda creeps me out. Just five more minutes little love then you can go mug Young k with Dowoon. Don’t look at me like that! You finally have a teacher and you take him for granted. The audacity-”

Jae

Jae was a thin hair away from just ripping his hair out. He didn’t believe the kpop industry would take very kindly to him going bald, but he had come to a point where he didn’t really care about what people thought anymore. But thinking about you not being able to play with his hair anymore while he drifted off to sleep with his head on your chest severely upset him.

Jae had gotten stuck in another limbo, stuck in the studio and in his own head desperately trying to finish any of the unfinished songs left in his computer files. He missed you so much, he eventually called it quits, deciding to go home to you, who he hadn’t seen in days.

Just the thought about seeing you energized his previously exhausted self. He never could get sick of you. Every day, every week was a new adventure, a new chapter, all with his favorite person in the world. The night sky, although beautiful, seemed to mock him, reminding him of how late it was, meaning you were most probably asleep.

Opening the door to his apartment, he heard soft music. He briefly recognized “I Need Somebody”, and thought you were playing it from your phone. All his thoughts came to a halting stop when he saw you perched on the bed, in his shirt, playing the melody of the previously mentioned song.

You had hair falling into your eyes with your eyebrows slightly scrunched trying not to mess up and heavily focused. Jae had loudly yelled in surprise, causing you to flinch and look up shocked at the sudden surprise. When you saw it was just him, you had comically thrown your hands in the air yelling at him about how it was supposed to be a surprise.

The irritated look on your face vanished as you went up to give him a light hug with a kiss, softly smiling at him. Meanwhile Jae, was completely out of it, lovestruck eyes while he instinctively returned your affection.

“Come Jae, you look like you haven’t slept in ages, your eyes are so sunken babe”, you had softly whispered to him, rubbing the soft skin under his eyes, the way you were always soft with him when he came back from the studio. You slept in the same bed for the first time in what had been days, Jae tightly clutching on to you.

He may have not been completely there at the moment, but in the morning when he had time to process everything, he was a changed man. He wouldn’t stop laughing and giggling excitedly, eagerly wanting to hear everything you had learnt. He even poked fun at you when you made a mistake. But it was all lovingly as he also praised you non stop while looking at you with his messy hair and big smile next to you on the couch. He had so much inspiration now. To finish what had been left behind.

“Pop off queen who gave you this much talent, you couldn’t even tell me what bass was last time we talked, which was like a week ago. Might just make you play when I don’t feel like playing. Give you a wig and people won’t know the difference! Why are you booing me, I'm right?”

Young K

Young K’s foot tapping on the floor of the car was the only sound that filled the car aside from the soft sound of the car’s engine and tires. He was absolutely spent, having to have stayed in a different city for a show he was invited to that was filmed far away from his home.

Far away from you. Young K could tell his manager was starting to get irritated, but Young K was already massively annoyed and too far in his own world to really care. He missed the pine scent of his sheets, and he missed you.

It was not a good combination. When he got to his place he quietly thanked the manager, getting his bag before trying to ignore every urge telling him to run into the building and fall into his soft bed with you in his arms. When he opened the door, your keys were there, so he knew you were in the building. That thought filled him with more relief than it should have.

He did have to admit, hearing “I smile” this early in the day was odd as you usually saved the more mellow songs for later in the night. Young K told himself he had many euphoric moments in his life, but seeing you staring at a sheet of paper with so much determination and a bass guitar in your arms came pretty close to the top.

The absolute warmth that exploded in his chest was a feeling he would not forget in a long time. He could feel his lips slightly curl up in fondness as your hands shook while your eyes wavered unsurely between your hands on the strings and the video on your laptop sitting further on the edge of the bed. Your face scrunched up before you sighed and stared dejectedly at the instrument on your lap.

“Why so sad love?" His voice made you instantly sit up, pushing the instrument gently off your lap. You crawled to the edge of the bed where Young K had already gotten closer where he met you tenderly running his hand through your hair, and he curved his hand around the back of your head bringing your forehead to his abdomen.

He brushed his thumb over where your hairline met the sensitive skin of the back of your neck immensely enjoying being back at your side. Your hands were clutching the back of his shirt, and your simple touch brought a warm feeling to his chest. You both leaned back as Young K’s chest started to rumble with laughter “You should have waited for me, it would have been easier if I could teach you”, he softly said, pushing your hair back from your face causing you to lightly laugh.

“I wanted to surprise you, but I didn’t get that far anyways. Can’t become a prodigy in one day I guess”. Young K smiled again, promising to himself to help you as much as he could as he put his hand fondly on top of your head.

“You’re doing so good, just move your finger up a little, you’re plucking the c chord instead of the e chord during the chorus, don’t look at me like that i’m trying to help?! I wouldn’t put you on my level, but I think you’re doing really well. I’m hungry now, what do you want? No- What do you want? I am okay with anything just tell me-”

Wonpil

Wonpil was trying his hardest not to think about you. From the way you got excited when you got to see the moon in the cloudy sky to the way you smiled when you saw the neighbor’s cat while getting the mail.

He was happy to be on a trip with her sister, he hadn’t had much time to be with her in recent, well forever really. While you had been invited, you hadn’t been able to attend due to work. Wonpil did his best to keep his mind off you and enjoy the trip, he just hadn’t spent this long without you in a while.

Even so, he still had a fun time with his sister and her boyfriend creating many memories. He didn’t regret it, but he was extremely happy to come back to you. Opening the door to your apartment, he dropped his suitcase by the door, an excited smile tugging at his lips as he traveled through the apartment with his arms spread knowing you would embrace him as soon as you saw him. He felt so giddy, he didn’t even notice the broken keyboard sounds ringing throughout the living space.

His smile fell in a comical way, his face morphing into one of confusion instead. He recognized a broken rendition of “Mary had a little Lamb”, and tilted his head as he opened the door to your room seeing you with really big headphones on your head staring down at the keyboard with the most offended look on your face.

How dare this keyboard not give you its secrets! Wonpil couldn’t help the laugh that escaped his chest, not mocking you, but he just thought you were so cute. He lightly touched your shoulder causing you to jump, and the slight movement of your head caused the headphones to slide off your head. It didn’t matter much. You instantly dove into his arms, pressing the side of your face against his chest.

He felt warmth flood his chest as his hand encased the back of your head while he pressed his lips to the top, closing his eyes in bliss enjoying having you in his arms again. He leaned back from the brace as his eyes flashed with amusement and yours with slight embarrassment. He lightly laughed, eyes crinkling. He cradled your face in his hands, a teasing lilt to his voice, “What were you trying to do, hmm?” He could feel your face grow hot under his finger tips.

“I was just trying to surprise you. I felt bad for not being able to go with you”. He shook his head, hands playfully pinching your cheeks as you whined. “You shouldn’t act that way, I understood from the beginning. It must have been hard for you. Here, come, your lovely boyfriend will make this easier for you”.

“Y/n the keys will not bite prEsS dOWn, no, no keyboards do not have to be oiled, this is a musical instrument not a mechanical vehicle. You are so cute. What am I gonna do with you? No, you can not play the keyboard with your forehead, DO NOT put your foot on the keys. I don’t care if it’s for the vine.

Dowoon

Dowoon was beating himself up. Looking back at what happened a few hours ago made his chest tight. He couldn’t help but wince at the words both of you had thrown at each other. You had been with each other for so long, and when his lovely mother asked him when he would propose, although with good intentions, it put pressure on him.

He was still young. He had mentioned it to you in a joking manner, but there was a misunderstanding and you thought he was blowing it off as he didn’t see a future with you.

Somehow feelings were hurt, and the fight escalated. And Dowoon decided he was a coward because it was when you had started stuttering through your words and avoiding eye contact, he knew. He knew he had pushed you across a line that might not be able to be crossed again.

He panicked. He was really good at doing that wasn’t he? He left. He took a bus and went to the nearest hotel he could find. There he was sitting on the edge of the too perfectly made bed with his head in his hands.

Had he just ruined his precious relationship because he was scared of what the future could or could not hold? Why did he have to run away? Why couldn’t he just stay? Most importantly, how badly had he hurt you?

With a sigh he stood up, and he got on the bus back to your apartment. Staring at the door, the fact you were just on the other side and hurting is what pushed him to open it with the key you had given him. Opening the door, he was met with silence and darkness. Have you already gone? He walked through the apartment, hope dwindling with every step.

Then he heard a soft thump thump thump. His heart seemed to match with it, and as he walked to his studio which held his spare drum set, he thought of what he could say to make it better. Opening the door, he saw you softly hitting the drum with one stick, as if testing the waters and humming along to “When you Love Someone”. Dowoon couldn’t fight the sad smile that broke out on his face, and the absolute warmth that filled his chest.

Why did he ever even doubt your future with him? There was no person more perfect for him than you. He stood next to you, softly taking your hand in his and guiding your hand to the right beat, although a bit broken. When your sad eyes looked up into his, forgiving in nature but still frustrated beyond belief, he knew he could still fix things. You were you, and Dowoon was Dowoon. You always somehow found your way back to each other.

“No no, put your hands higher on the stick, no lower, now higher...a bit lower. No, Y/n drum sticks do not belong in my throat. What do you mean I have no room to talk, I thought we were over the fight. I would marry you in this life and the next! Why are you looking at me like that? I am not cute, I am handsome and overflowing with testosterone. Oooh are those gummies?

190 notes · View notes

jungcity · 3 years

Text

STRIPPED. | jaehyun

tw: languages, jealousy, unprotected sex, degradation(?), dom!jaehyun, edging, oral sex (m), cum-eating, creampie, overstim

pairing: jaehyun x fem!reader

wc: 2657

note: crossed-posted this on my haikyuu blog as an ushijima fic. i hope you enjoy this in the jaehyun-narrative, though.

Having Jaehyun alone, inside an elevator, would’ve been exciting if not for your current situation. He stood beside you, prim and proper as always. His pristine tuxedo unruffled despite the whole day of attending meetings, signing papers, and talking to his business partners.

This was suffocating. You needed to at least say something before the atmosphere would rip your to shreds. Trying to shake the crippling aura away, you cleared your throat and opened your mouth to speak.

But before you could do exactly that, Jaehyun spoke. “Shut it, Y/N.” Further proving his indifference, he remained staring at his reflection inside the elevator.

You bit your lower lip to suppress a retort. Talking back would only add to your agony. Besides, you could feel Jaehyun’s mood in the air. It would be a bad move to taunt him.

However, you definitely weren’t the one to back down either. So you tilted your head up, straightened your back, and said, “Well, look at you now, attempting to conquer yourself yet again.”

Jaehyun’s delicious and virile chuckle echoed suddenly. The kind of laugh that has never failed to stir your stomach with its sound. You would’ve swoon if not for the edge that had come with it.

“Ah,” he moaned. “Your guts really does turns me on, Y/N,” he added, shaking his head lightly. “Let’s see how far that attitude could go, though.” After he spoke the words, the elevator door tinged.

Jaehyun adjusted his necktie before stepping out. He didn’t need to see if you’d follow him. It was just an instinct, an assurance.

His words might’ve shaken your knees lightly, but you won’t crumble because of him. Jaehyun always liked the fight, though. And you did, too. It was the dynamic of your relationship: the audacity of each other.

Doing your best to look confident, you puffed your chest and walked behind him. Heels clicking against the tiled floor.

When his penthouse door opened, that was when he finally looked at you. He looked like the devil himself, trying to lure you into hell. And because not even the devil could scare you away, you stepped inside.

Jaehyun walked straight to his bar counter and poured himself some hard liquor. While you unbutton your blazer and throw it onto the sofa. You could feel his eyes piercing your body with every move, therefore feeding the audacity you have.

“Tell me why, Y/N,” he finally spoke.

You chuckled, irating him even more. “What are you talking about?”

The sound of liquor pouring in the glass echoed through the silence. “Tell me why you kissed him.”

All the blood drained from your face. His voice was raw, his emotions rolling off his tongue. A mixture of curiosity, hurt, and punishment. “I... I don’t know.”

Jaehyun hummed. “Now, now, you don’t need to be discreet,” he said with his taunting yet luscious tone. “It’s just you and me here. No one’s gonna hear us.”

You hated to admit it, but you knew exactly that no matter how brave you made yourself to be in front of him, you’d always falter once he’d used that voice to you. “I really don’t know, Jeong,” you breathed.

Jaehyun downed the contents of his glass. He laid the glass flat on the counter. Then he started to unbuckle his necktie while looking at you. “Alright, then. Take your clothes off. Leave the heels on.”

Without thinking twice, you unbutton your shirt. You needed to make him feel good. Anything. Just to say how sorry you were for this night.

The cool air grazes your breasts as you unhooked your bra. You removed your skirt next, exposing your sex for Jaehyun to see.

When you were finally naked, Jaehyun walked towards you. His proximity made you want him all over your body. You needed him to touch you. So bad that you tried to close the gap between the both of you, but Jaehyun lifted a hand to cup your chin harshly.

You gasped. He smiled. “Tell me why.”

“It... it was a mistake.”

His thumb grazed your lips. By the friction, your body screamed. Driving the pulsating of your sex mad. “Was it a mistake if you’re halfway through each other’s throats when I saw you, Y/N?”

“Jae—”

“He’s had his lips on you. Did it feel good?”

You tried to shake your head, but his grip was firm. “No, of course not.”

“Did you think of him fucking you?”

“Jae!” you cried in both astonishment and embarrassment. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to!”

He seemed unfazed by your emotions. Jaehyun inserted his thumb inside your mouth. You knew what to do. You sucked his thumb like you were sucking his cock.

“Would you suck his cock like that?”

You abruptly stopped, surprised by the question. He knew what the answer was. And yet...

You swallowed. “No, Jae.”

A smirk ghosted his lips. “Whose cock you’d want to fuck you? Whose cock you’d want to suck off?”

“Yours!” you replied almost immediately. The immense need to have his hands around your body was so intense you felt like crying. It didn’t help that your sex was aching for attention and seemed like he won’t succumb to it.

Jaehyun placed his hand on the top of your head. “Prove it, then.”

Greedily, you unbuckled his belt, refusing to look away. Both of you held each other’s eyes while you tugged his undergarments down to reveal his beautiful cock.

Jaehyun sank to the couch, eyes never leaving yours. You went on your knees, wrapping your hand around his thick cock. Then it was on your mouth. You moaned, tasting his warmth and the little saltiness of his skin. Jaehyun watched you as you licked the bottom of his cock to the tip. But there was no emotions on his face. Your heart dropped. He was usually the silent kind of guy, but whenever you were behind closed doors, Jaehyun never stopped himself from eliciting sounds.

You sucked his cock again, and reached for his groins. Jaehyun made a sound through his teeth. He was unmistakably holding himself back.

Moans of apology vibrated on your mouth as you deepthroated him yet again. Then you fisted half of his cock, milking him while licking the tip. His thighs jerked in the slightest, then his ragged breaths could be heard inside the penthouse. By the sounds, you double-fisted him while sucking half his cock. You did just like that until a thick spurt of semen exploded in your mouth.

You moaned once more, trying your hardest to swallow the semen that was starting to pool inside your mouth. Jaehyun kept cumming, thus spilling some of his warm liquid down the length of his cock.

Ignoring the spilled semen, you started to bob your head up and down again. But his firm hands held your shoulders. You looked up to meet his eyes. Jaehyun stared at you, his face aloof.

“Are you wet?” he asked, voice cool and dangerous.

“I am,” you admitted.

“Sucking my cock really turns you on.” He leaned back down the sofa. His cock still hard, veins bulging. “Slide that little cunt around me.”

Your nipples perked by the crudeness. And you were quick to straddle his lap, your knees on either side of his hips. Lining your entrance to his pretty, and achingly thick cock, you sank down. But Jaehyun held your waists all of a sudden. You looked at him, frowning.

“Why, Y/N?”

Feeling as if you were going to snap anytime soon, you closed your eyes. “I don’t know.”

“Then I don’t think this cock is for you,” he replied, detachment clear in his voice.

You bit back a sob. Fuck him. But you couldn’t just let go. Your body has been screaming for him to fill you, to fuck you, to stretch you. “Jaehyun, please.”

Half of his face was obscured from light, while the half was lit by the single light from the hallway. Jaehyun’s eyes glinted darkness, then his sturdy grip on your waists loosened. “Ride this cock, nice and slow,” he whispered, the air from his mouth leaving goosebumps on your bare collarbone down your spine.

You sank your sex deep down his cock. The impact made you grip the headrest of the sofa. Jaehyun breathed through his teeth. He felt it too. The way his cock stretched your insides deliciously. The way you exactly fit each other.

He was stoic, despite the sweat coating his forehead. Instead of feeling dejected, you pulled yourself up and forcefully sank down. Buttocks hitting his lap.

Through gritted teeth, Jaehyun cursed, “Goddamn.”

You moaned by the friction of your wet sex sliding up and down his thick cock. Jaehyun tried to meet your every move by moving his hips, therefore hitting the soft spot inside you. It was painful to bob your body up and down, but you won’t stop l. Not until his façade crumbles down and he’s wanting every inch of you.

You won’t stop riding his cock until Jaehyun is a mess underneath you. He deserved it, nevertheless. Let your body say the apologies of your mistakes tonight.

His hands were comfortably holding your waists, allowing you to do the deed of fucking your brains out together. Jaehyun licked his lips. “Tell me why you kissed him.”

You bit your lower lip out of frustration. He won’t let it slide, would he? Having no idea how you could feel different emotions all at the same time, you tried to ignore his question. But Jaehyun held you in a viselike grip again, halting your movements unexpectedly, painfully.

With your brows furrowed, you tried to move again, just to feel him. However, he brought your hands behind you, held them firmly with his large ones. His cock was buried inside you, reaching for places you didn’t know was possible to reach. Hell, at this point, his cock would surely penetrate your intestines.

“Why?” His voice was raspy and menacing. He was using this against you.

Out of your exasperation, you cried, “I don’t know! I swear!” It was a drunken mistake, commixed with Jaehyun’s ex arriving at town. It didn’t help that they were unfortunately business partners. All week he’s with her. You were a woman, jealousy was something you didn’t know existed until Jaehyun came into your life.

Jaehyun chuckled once more, the sound were dark and brooding. “Are you thinking of him fucking you right now?”

“No! Of course not!” How could he ask that? Tears brimmed in the back of your eyes. This is getting tiring. You wriggled your body but Jaehyun buried himself deeper, eliciting a gasp from your lips. The friction of your sex to his cock was both pleasureable and painful. He was stretching you, balls deep. “Jaehyun, please!”

Bodies slicked and coated in perspiration, Jaehyun leaned back, freeing you. You collapsed on the crook of his neck, feeling as if all your energy has been sucked out of you.

“You wanna stop? You know what to say,” he taunted.

God, you wish you knew how to. However, you knew you couldn’t. No matter how filthy his mouth could get, you won’t taste defeat. So you pulled yourself up. He won’t hear the safe word tonight.

“Damn you,” you exhaled.

With one swift movement, Jaehyun was out of you. Then he supported your body as he bent you over the sofa, your breasts making friction against the head rest.

“Jae— ah!” You moaned as he slammed his cock back inside your wet sex. Gripping the headrest tightly, your body jerked forwards and backwards as Jaehyun slammed and thrusted into you in a pace that made you scream and moan his name.

“No one,” he panted. “No one’s gonna fuck you like this, Y/N.” You felt his body leaning closer. He was hugging your back while fucking you from behind.

Your sweat trickled down the leather sofa. Perhaps your saliva, too. The reality of your lover fucking your brains out, inside his penthouse, with the tall skyscrapers as the witness further ignited your lewdness. You moved to meet his thrust, but Jaehyun reached for your clit, rubbing harshly.

Biting back a cry, you focused on the feeling. The heat on your toes was unbearable. You could feel your release building up. Your moans get louder and louder as your abdomen tightens, your stomach caving in, ribs protruding. Then Jaehyun cut out the friction.

“Fuck!” you cried out. You were so close, so damn close. “Fuck you! Fuck you!” you chanted as he fucked you from behind. Jaehyun chuckled, clearly amused by the way you were so helpless. At this point, he would give you a cataclysmic vaginal orgasm if he won’t stop fucking you like that.

“Tell me why you kissed him,” he repeated with his brooding voice yet again.

You cried, literal tears streaming down your face, mixing with your sweat. “Because you are an asshole! And you deserved—”

Jaehyun thrusted forcefully, his skin slapping against yours, stroking your cunt with his hard cock. “Jesus fucking Christ, Y/N,” he gasped. “Why.”

Over and over, he spread you out and fucked you relentlessly. Your sex felt so full it was overwhelming. Jaehyun reached for your hands and secured them behind you. You screamed in frustration and pleasure. One touch on your clit and you would explode right there and there.

He reached for your nipple and flicked it with his forefinger and thumb, giving you shudders. You have nothing left to fight with. You were all his. Mind, body, and soul.

You were still panting when he leaned closer. Then his left hand found your clit again. You readied yourself for the intense orgasm. Praying that you won’t lose your mind.

Jaehyun pulled your hair lightly, bending you at his will. He licked your shoulder all the way up your jaw.

“Jae—” You didn’t finish your sentence when a loud cry resonated in you. He pinched the lips of your sex towards your clit. You screamed his name as the release finally exploded through you. The orgasm was so, sooo good, tears started to stream down your face again. You tried to grab him for support, anything, just to keep your body from limping. Your cunt was still pulsating when Jaehyun stilled and fresh, warm, semen burst inside you like a separate thrust. He spilled himself inside you, filling you in, occupying every space.

After his cock was finished pulsating, he pulled out. He’d never let go of your body as he turned you to face him. Your face collided with his chests, exhaustion pulling you down.

“I am yours,” he stated with his eyes finally softening. “I’m sorry if I’ve ever done something to hurt you.” Then he placed a reassuring kiss on your forehead.

You nodded slightly, eyelids drooping down. “I’m sorry, Jae. I never really meant to hurt you.”

“Hush, angel, I know,” he whispered before kissing your lips fully. After he pulled away, Jaehyun carried you to the bed in a bridal style.

“Let’s wash you first, alright?” he said. You moaned in response. Then he chuckled. There was no danger in his tone now, only amusement meant for you.

Jaehyun laid you down in the tub. He filled it in. Then he started to lather your hair with shampoo. Because of his large hands, Jaehyun’s massages are the best. You hummed as he rinsed off your hair.

After bathing you, he washed off the perspiration from his body, too. Then he carried you again to the bed after drying both your bodies.

Naked, you both laid down on the bed. Jaehyun tucked you in, spooning you. Then he gave your shoulder one last kiss, before you finally drifted into oblivion.

#nct smut #nct au #nct scenarios #nct x reader #nct x y/n #nct x you #jung jaehyun smut #jung jaehyun x you #jung jaehyun x y/n #jung jaehyun au #jung jaehyun x reader #jaehyun smut #jaehyun x you #jaehyun x y/n #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun au #tw degradation #tw unprotected sex

923 notes · View notes

plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Maybe I'm The Problem

Warnings: Vent Fic so emotions, i guess?? reader is sensitive so there's that

Word Count: 2.9K

A/N: Holidays aren’t fun

You’re cold. You cling to the blanket, pulling it closer to you, desperate for the warmth that it brings and the comfort that it will provide. You rest at the headboard of the bed, your legs pinched close to your body and your arms wrapped around your legs. The fan blows cool air, chills pricking at your body and when the air conditioner hums to life, you slouch, digging yourself deeper into the bed, the blanket squished between you and yourself.

Outside of your room, you can hear cars pass by. It’s gentle, cars that pass by, the rustle of leaves outside of your window and the occasional laughter that has managed to make its way to your window. The day is ending and your eyes are heavy with fatigue but you still can’t bring yourself to sleep yet. For some reason, you stay awake, you force yourself to keep your eyes open despite the pain in your head that has grown sharper as the minutes go by. A yawn makes your mouth stretch and tears prick at your eyes and long after you’ve stopped, the tears stay there.

Your phone buzzes beside you, the music interrupted by the noise and when you glance down, you roll your eyes. It’s a simple message from the group chat. You have the audacity to feel annoyed, to scowl and sulk, to bite the inside of your cheeks until your molars ache and the soft skin is riddled with cuts. You hate that you feel annoyed at the thought of them, that you don’t want to respond to them, but you’re tired. You’ve had a long day and it doesn’t seem to end by your own fault, and you’re afraid to burden them with your own issues.

There’s a slam of your front door and you take a sharp gasp, your eyes stuck to your closed door. Something twists in your stomach and after a brief pause, you wipe your tears with your knuckles, drying your face with the palms of your hands as you try to regain a sense of control of your breathing. You can hear him call your name, his steps echoing in your home, the light in the hallway shining underneath the crack of your door and his shadow moving closer to you. Something is lodged in your throat and tears spring to your eyes and you blink them away, ignoring the way they burn in your eyes. The door swings open, and at your doorway is a pale man with ashy skin, scars that edge deep into his skin with a crooked nose and bright eyes. He smiles at you, wide and eager, and he closes the door behind him, the light on the hallway still on.

“Hey,” Tomura tells you, walking closer to you, slipping his coat off and letting it hang on the back of your swivel hair. “Sorry for the sudden visit but I-” he stops in his tracks, his smile falling as he blinks owlishly at you. Are you okay?” He rushes to your side, holding your face in his hands, the gloves that he wears soft on your skin as the fingers that are exposed press deeply into you. You can feel tears brim over your eyes and drip past your lashes. “Did something happen?”

You know you can talk to him. You two have shared with each other things that are more personal, that are more intimate, and yet, you can’t find a way to tell him your problems right now. You can’t be a burden to him; not when he has his own issues- things that are much bigger than him than you and your sensitive heart. You shake your head, your mouth dry and you pull away from him. His hands drift from you, ghosting over your skin until you’re pressed against the headboard, far away from him.

With tears that still seem to linger and a throat filled with feelings that you can’t explain or linger on for too long, you turn your head away from him, your eyes landing on an abandoned stuffed animal. “It’s nothing,” you whisper. “I’m fine- I’m okay, Tomura.” You cross your arms over your chest and you hope that the act of defiance is enough for him to drop it- to just ignore you and act as if he hasn’t seen you in despair. You isolate yourself from him, pulling away from his touch and the way that he wants to comfort you. You push him away and a part of you hopes that it’ll work.

The bed creaks and his leg brushes over yours. He sits beside you, his hand turned over as his palm looks at the ceiling as he turns to speak to you once more. “Okay,” he tells you in a melancholic tone.

It’s quiet for a minute, for a minute that stretches into silence and makes your face burn. It’s silent, the room heavy with tension and you can’t look at him, not when he’s sitting so close and offering his hand to you. His eyes are on you, steady and half-lidded, and his expression reads that he does not believe you. Despite the look, you try not to cry and force a smile on your lips but it feels much more like a grimace, much more like pain than anything happy. You pull your lips thin and roll them once you realize how awful you must look to him right now. You turn away from him, hiding your face and even then it's a lackluster try. His eyes remain on you and you can feel the pity. It’s horrible; it leaves your stomach feeling as if it’s being twisted, a horrible burning sensation that burns your chest and face, making you more uncomfortable than you already are.

No matter how hard you try, you can’t keep the tears out of your eyes. They still form, your chest struggling to take even breaths and you have to cover your mouth in order to exhale without him seeing just how horrid you look. A part of you doesn’t want him to turn away, would prefer if he stayed looking at you in order to see just how awful you look. You want him to hold you, to promise you that everything will be okay as you cry. You want him to take pity on you and at the same time, you want nothing more than for him to walk away, to turn a blind eye to you and ignore you. You want a reason to cry, something other than just “holidays not being a good thing for you” and yet, you can’t bring yourself to do that. You feel awful, having such a silly reason to cry over and you want something more, something bigger and something more painful. You want your neck to be slit, to have blood pour out and stain your being, to have a reason to cry. You want to be hurt, to fall to your knees and cry until your throat is sore and your chest aches from every struggling breath that you tried to take in. You want to be hurt and you want to be held and ignored. You want him to reach out to you despite the rejection and show that he still cares for you in all of your ugliness. It’s selfish of you and you realize that.

You sit at the bed, staring up at him and when he inches closer to you, your lips tremble and you begin to cry. You take a shaky breath, your lips ache from the frown that has been stitched on, and tears slide down the curve of your face before you start to sob. You cover your face with your hands, your palms pressed against your lips, and your eyes shut tight as your body is ruined with sobs.

The inside of your cheeks ache from where your teeth had dug into them, sensitive spots that bead with the taste of scarlet and make your mouth bitter with hatred. You call out to him, shaking your head. His name is sullied by your lips, heavy and full of heartache, broken with sobs and muted by the palms of your hands. A part of you still wants him to deny you, to hear the bed creak and the door close. You want to be coddled, to be held and told that you are something- that you have worth that isn’t just for the sake of others. But you remain cold. You remain empty and alone and the feeling is worse than anything else you have ever felt. Your heart races, pounding against your chest, the blanket heavy on your lap as you cry.

His hands are on your shoulders, light as his fingertips press into you. For a moment, he rests there until his hands flutter away, leaving your skin burning where he once touched. They return to wrap around your wrists, pulling your hands away and you stare at him, bare and vulnerable. You wonder how you must look in his eyes, if he still sees you as he always has and the thought of your image changing in his eyes makes you want to cry even more.

His tongue peeks out to wet his lips and he inches closer to you, dropping your wrists and sitting beside you. Your hands twitch, scratching at the blanket with little gasps of breath escaping you. “Is it okay if I hug you?” Tomura asks, his hands twitching, fingers curling and spreading out. “Please?”

Unable to trust your voice, you nod your head, your lips pulled into a line and your eyes spilling over with tears. His arms are around you and he holds you tight. The embrace is awkward, bones and joints pressed into each other, the blanket a now crumpled up mess between the two of you. You can feel him fix himself, moving slightly closer to you and pulling you closer to him, grabbing your legs and hooking them over his, his hands letting go of your shirt to cradle you gently, holding you close and rocking you.

You’re a tragedy, a story that is made for pain, for tears to be shed and heart to be heavy. You’re a protagonist of your own world, but you’re alone. There is someone who is willing to talk to you, to speak to you and hold you, to ignore your passive attempts of forcing him to leave and yet you can’t speak to him. You cry, you sob, you let tears and hiccups rack through your body, and you cling to him, desperate for him to hold you with the same intensity that you crave and give.

The terrible thing about crying is the pain that it comes with- the sobs that shake your body and the tears that burn you. You hold onto him, ashamed and insecure. You don’t want him to see you this way, you never did. It’s one thing to cry out of his own safety, out of worry for him, but it’s another thing to shed tears for when it’s just about you and your sensitive self. You hate how deprived you become, how you cling to him and sob onto him, your hands fisting the clothes on his back until they are wrinkled in your monstrous hands.

His breath is weak against your ear, his nose nudged against the shell of your ear. “Do you want to talk about it?” You hold him tighter in response and push your face into the curve of his neck, wetting his skin with your tears. “Okay,” he sighs, his hands moving slowly against your back. “That’s okay.” His lips press against the side of your head, lingering for a moment and pulling away. “That’s okay, too.”

How do you explain to a man who was ruined by the people in his life that you’re crying because it hurts, because you’re the punchline; how do you look at him without shame when you’ve simply gotten your feelings hurt.

You tears slowly dry out, all that’s left is sniffles and wet tear stains against the both of you. Your eyelids are heavy, your body weary and you’re just tired. It’s been a long day, and you aren’t sure where to start, you aren’t even sure that there’s a proper way to start. You know that if you were to tell him why, that if you would explain that you’re tired and sensitive, that through all the stuttering and choked up words, he would understand. You know he would do his best to understand and to hold anything over your head. And you can’t bring yourself to do that, you can’t tell him. You’re a crybaby, a sensitive one who cries with every emotion, whose body shakes and throat becomes sore; one who hurts themselves and wishes for pain simply because then you would have a reason to cry, you would feel validated.

His hand curves over the back of your head, and you can feel his pulse quicken when your hands slip to his chest, curving over him and rising above to hold him by the neck, your hands soft and warm, caressing his skin as your breath whispers over him. You hide your face from him when you rise, letting your hands fall from him and he moves to rest on his back, his arms open as they welcome you in for a hug. He holds you, your arms wrapped around his midsection and his hand racing odd shapes against your side.

He takes in a breath and blows out warm air. His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth and his fingers still for a moment. He lets out a low, shaky breath, his hands clasping around you, fingers pressed into you. “Do you need anything? I- I know that I can’t- that you might not want to talk about it but I could still help.” His voice lowers at the end, unsure and passive. “I can help,” he says more to himself than to you.

You swallow the little spit in your mouth. “You- I just-” you take a deep breath, ragged and left with a left whine at the end- “I don’t want to be alone. Just stay with me until I fall asleep, okay? I’ll- I’ll treat you to breakfast or dinner- whatever you want, Tomura. Just don’t leave me alone, okay?” Tears mark themselves against you, leaving you ruined, and you cling closer to him when he turns his body to envelop you into a hug, his lips are scratchy and chapped against your forehead, kissing you gently and holding you tight.

“I’ll stay.” His lips kiss at you again. “I promise I’ll stay.” Silence lingers between the two of you, your body calming down once more. “Do you know why I came over?” You shake your head, trying to peer up but only meeting black cloth. “I wanted to see you. Sometimes, I just miss you. I think about you and I think, ‘Wow, this meeting wouldn’t suck so much if they were here.’” Your body burns at his confession and you can feel the corners of your lips tilting upwards. “You told me I could come over whenever I wanted, right? Do you remember that you told me that?” You lick your lips and nod your head. “I decided to do just that. Come over and see you.” He pauses for a moment. “I’m glad that I came to see you. I like seeing you.”

He comforts you in the way that he can. He holds you and tells you that he misses you, and in this moment, that’s all that you need. You need to know that you’re more than just a burden, that you’re more than a simple problem to the people that you’re close with. “I like seeing you too,” you tell him, and while your voice cracks and your throat becomes constricted, you repeat yourself. “I- Tomura, I really appreciate you. I don’t think I tell you that enough, but I do. I’m glad that you’re here.”

The bed creaks, a low whine and your side is cold, the side of your face marked with the wrinkles of his shirt and he looks at you and you look at him. His smile is soft, a corner of it stretched up, and he sniffles, his nose scrunching up and he nods to your statement. “I’m glad that you let me be here.” He lowers his head and kisses above a brow, pulling away and closing the space between you, letting his fingers run down your spine and on your back. “I want to be here with you and if you would rather not talk about anything, that’s okay, but just know that I’m willing to decay if you want me to.”

He says it in such a casual tone that you let out a snort, the smile on your face loose and crooked, your head shaking as he lets out a chuckle. “I’m tempted, but I’ll refuse the offer for now, okay?”

“Okay,” he says, his voice lilting as he continues on. “The offer will always be there for you, you know that.” The smile is evident on his voice, his hands once against roaming down your back. “Don’t forget that. I’ll do whatever you want me to do. Just say the word.” He speaks with such a serious tone, and you know that he means it, and the thought is comforting. You kiss what you can, your lips against his neck for a moment before you pull away. “Just rest for now, okay? I’ll be here when you wake up.”

#bnha #bnha fanfiction #shigaraki headcanons #mha shigaraki #shigaraki tomura #boku no hero academia shigaraki #tomura shigaraki #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki imagine #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #i am not a fan of gatherings lmao #other things will come out tomorrow but #sunday bled into today and i hate it

73 notes · View notes

kpop---scenarios · 3 years

Text

Into The Night (2)

Pairing: Kai x Reader

Warnings: Unprotected Smut, Angst,

Word Count: 6.9k

A/N: I'm sorry!!

As the rain pours down, it soaks you but you have a hard time finding the urge to care. You watch the staircase from in front of your car, waiting for the man you love, the man you hoped loved you enough to come chase after you. You desperately wanted him to tell you that you were enough for him and that he had enough of the business that was taking so much from him.

But he never came.

A part of you must have known he wouldn't give it up, not for you. It wasn't as though you were anything special anyway. You were you, and he was a god, someone who deserved more than just you.

You closed your eyes and for a moment imagined what it would have been like had he chased you. Kai running down the stairs, into the rain to take you in his arms and tell you how much he loved you and needed you, that you were first, that you were enough.

But instead, you got into your car soaked and cried hard while driving to your apartment. Maybe he didn't love you as much as you thought he did. Maybe you truly weren't enough for him.

Day by day, you stared at your phone, reading the last text he had sent you before you left. It was the last time he had typed out the words you wished you could hear from his lips right now, even if you don't deserve them.

"I love you."

You can still hear the faint whispers of him saying the words in your head, but as time goes on the whispers get quieter and quieter, slowly fading away.

Every week something changed, for the better, and you noticed yourself becoming yourself again. You stopped agonizing over the fact that he hadn't texted you, then you stopped caring that he hadn't called you. If he had been the man you thought he was, he would have reached out, maybe tried to explain himself. But he didn't, so maybe he wasn't the man for you.

A month had gone by and you started going to coffee shops with your friends, finally getting out of the house.

Six months had gone by and you were washing your hair and doing your makeup, feeling like yourself again.

A year later, you were thriving. You had a great group of friends, you were putting yourself out there with guys and you had just been promoted at work, which tonight, this wonderful Friday, you were celebrating with your group of friends at a new club in the city.

"I will be there soon." You laugh into the speaker, looking out the window of the cab to see where you were. "Promise, like two minutes away." You tell Moonbyul, pressing the end call button.

The cab driver pulls up to the club and you see Moonbyul, Wheein and Solar waiting outside for you.

"Fucking finally." Moonbyul groans, pulling you in for a hug. The others join in, congratulating you on your promotion.

"Come." Wheein squeals. "I got us the best table." She finishes, pulling you inside the club.

You walk in and it's jam-packed with people. You squeeze her arm as you navigate through the massive amounts of bodies, finally settling at a table with your three best friends.

"First." Solar pauses. "Shots." She smiles as four shots are delivered to your table.

"That was cool." You laugh.

The four of you down your shots.

"Next," Wheein says. "More shots." Another round is placed on your table, one in front of each of you.

The four of you take your shots again.

Half an hour later, you had already done four shots and had two drinks, and to say you were feeling it would be an understatement.

"I'm going.." hiccup. "To the bathroom." You giggle, ungracefully sliding from your chair and stumbling your way to the bathroom. You close your eyes for a split second as you walk past the bar, trying to ease the spinning when you bump into a hard chest.

You open your eyes and look up, immediately thinking your eyes are playing tricks on you. You blink a few times before stumbling back, shaking your head slightly and looking back up at the man.. the man you once loved.

"Kai?" You whispered.

"Ayn.." he says. "It's good to see you."

"Yeah.. um, you too." You say, unsure of really what to say. There were a few things you had planned to say to him had you ever actually run into him but you truly never thought that situation would arise.

"How have you been?" You ask.

Not what you wanted to say.

"Good, good." He smiles that radiant smile that just melts your heart. "I quit the business." He says.

Your heart drops.

"When?" You ask, a little confused.

"About nine months ago." He answers.

You scoff.

"So three months after you let me run out because you were never going to give it up?" You ask. You can feel the anger rising inside of you.

"I.. well, Hwasa helped me realize." He says. Seconds later a gorgeous woman slides her manicured hand over his shoulder as he wraps his arm around her waist.

You look at Kai confused, and heartbroken all over again.

"Hi, I'm Hwasa, Kai's fiancee." She purrs, holding out her hand with a big diamond ring on the right finger.

"Fiancee?" You breathe. "I tried.. for you.. and I wasn't good enough.. but you knew her for three months and she got you to quit and propose? What the fuck was I? Did you even love me?" You yell.

"Ayn.. let's not do this here.." Kai says, looking uncomfortable.

"No, I'm not doing anything... I’m...I can't breathe." You cry, turning around to stumble from the crowded building. You burst through the door, the cool outside air hitting you hard as you gasp for breath.

Kai, the man you loved was now with someone else, someone who seemed worthy of him, not to mention he left.. he left the business behind. The one that you weren't good enough for him to leave. You weren't good enough to fight for apparently.

With your feet dragging, you walk the long-distance home, ignoring the buzzing of your cellphone as you try to keep the tears from falling. You lost.

The next morning you woke up, feeling as though a train had smashed into your life - oh wait, it did. You recall the events of last night and how your heart was shattered for a second time by the same man, in less than a year. You grab your phone, looking at the time, 11:34 am. Before you set your phone down, it buzzes an incoming message. You open your messages and your heart drops as you immediately recognize the phone number.

Kai.

[11:35 am] 17362592474: I'm sorry about that. Can we talk?

It took all you had in you to not call him and scream at him. He's sorry about that, he's sorry? For what exactly? The fact that he didn't come after you, or the fact that he got engaged so quickly after leaving you shattered and a shell of the person you were before.

You threw your phone to the corner of your room. You couldn't deal with this today. So instead of answering him back, you went about your Saturday. You went for a jog but you never did stop thinking about the woman, Hwasa who was so perfect and seemed so perfect for him. They were a gorgeous couple, one of those couples who should be featured in all the magazines. You didn't compare to her, clearly.

That night you stayed in, ignoring the ringing of your phone that still sat in the corner of your room and instead binge-watched the saddest kdramas you could find and cried, while also stuffing your face.

You woke up Sunday feeling terribly bloated, with an even worse headache but none of that compared to how your heart felt. As much as you didn't want to admit it, as much as this would absolutely fuck with all the progress you made in the last you, you still loved him. Seeing him Friday night confirmed that, you would still forgive him if you had the chance.

Now you spent the rest of your Sunday agonizing over a decision you needed to make.

Text him back, or ignore it?

Monday morning you sat at your desk, chewing on your fingernail as you stared at the message on your phone that you had read almost a thousand times over.

Can we talk?

Sure, you wanted to talk, you had a lot of things you wanted to say to him. You grabbed your phone, typing the message before throwing it on your desk and trying to focus on some work.

[10:12 am] You: Sure. Let's talk. 6 pm, my place. I'd rather this not be public. *Address*

[10:14 am] 17362592474: See you then, Ayn.

You roll your eyes at his reply. Boy, was he going to get an ear full.

You paced in front of your door, checking your phone every 3 seconds. Time was moving so slowly as you waited for Kai to show up. You ran lines through your head, planning out exactly what you were going to say to him. You were ready and prepared to go off.

You checked your phone again.

5:59 pm

Knock

Knock.

You stood in front of your door and took a deep breath before opening it. You almost gasped at the sight of him. He looked so good, but seriously, he had the audacity to look that good and show up here? What the fuck.

"Hi, Ayn." He smiles. "Are you going to let me in?" He asks.

"Oh." You say, coming out of your trance. You open the door wider, allowing him to come in before closing the door behind you.

"Nice place." He says, looking around. You lean against the door, your arms crossed as you try to remember the first thing you wanted to say.

"Thanks." You whisper.

That wasn't it.

"Hwasa and I are on a break." He begins. "Look, I'm really sor.." he started to say before you cut him off.

"Don't." You yell, raising your hands to your ears. "I don't want to hear that you're sorry." You spit. "Sorry doesn't make up the fact that you didn’t chase me. Sorry doesn't make up for the fact that you met someone 3 months after you let me walk out of your life like I was nothing, and then you got engaged! You really are.." you say before now he cut you off, this time with his lips.

You hadn't even noticed him walking towards you until his lips were pressed against yours. Your eyes are still wide open as you realize what's happening. You place your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away. You're shocked as you gently touch your lips before raising your hand and slapping him.

You look at him, up and down before grabbing his collar and pulling him back to you, latching your lips onto his. He wraps his arms around you pulling you in close. He backs up, pushing you against your door as he hikes up your skirt, his knee pressed in between your legs. You break the kiss and his lips travel to your neck, your hands now in between the two of you, unbuckling his belt. He shimmies his pants down, along with his boxers, his cock springing free.

Kai places his hands behind your legs, picking you up and pressing you against the door once again. He lines up his cock before pushing himself into you with a gasp as his head rests in the crook of your neck. Your hands-on his shoulders as he thrusts himself into you, making you moan loudly.

"Fuck." He grunts, his fingertips digging into the back of your legs as he fucks you. Your hand moves to his hair, running your fingers through his locks as he hits all the right spots, your clit being rubbed perfectly.

You can feel his hot breath on your neck, his lips pressing a kiss as you cry out, loudly.

"Just like that." You moan as your orgasm builds. "Don't stop." You cry, your fingers gripping tightly onto his hair.

"Cum for me, please." He begs, you wrap your arms around his neck as your orgasm flows through your body, making you scream.

Kai thrusts faster as he chases his high, spilling himself into you. "Oh god." He moans as he thrusts lightly, coming down from his high.

You're both still for a moment, Kai still inside you as you both breathe heavily. "Shit." He whispers, pulling out. "That was a mistake." He says, pulling up his pants and buckling his belt back up.

"What?" You ask, tears now brimming in your eyes.

"No, that's not what I meant." He tries to assure you. "I meant the timing was a mistake, not you, never you." He says.

"No, I get it. I wasn't good enough for you then, why would I be good enough for you now." You spit. "Get out."

"Ayn.. please. It's not what I meant. I miss you!" He pleads.

"Get out now!" You cry. The tears roll down your cheeks as he looks at you with such despair, to just listen to him. You don't care. You were a mistake.

You storm towards your window, pushing it open as you struggle to catch your breath. How could you be so stupid as to let him fuck you, let him back into your life like that?

This was a mistake

I miss you.

Did he though? Did he miss you?

You let out a loud and frustrated grunt as you swiftly moved around your apartment, rage cleaning. How could you let him come up here and taint your fresh, drama and Kai free space? Bad Ayn.

Heading for your cabinets, you reach for your favourite cleaner, the one that smells like happiness to you and you begin your work. You scrub your door, cleaning away the sweat, the reminder that you let him fuck you against your door. You wash your floors, making sure to clean where he stood extra hard.

When you were finally satisfied with your house and the cleanliness and freshness of your place, you went to take care of yourself, spending an absurd amount of time in the shower. You used different soaps especially on your neck, you washed your hair a few times and your fingers, trying desperately to get the smell of him off of you, trying to get the feeling of being called a mistake off of you.

After your shower, you sat in your robe, in a chair in the living room, your finger hovering over the cold button on your cell phone. You needed to call Jisoo and tell her about this but you were slightly nervous about her reaction. You closed your eyes and pressed the call button and took a few deep breaths as you listened to the sound of the phone ringing.

"Heeelloooooo." She answers in a singing voice.

"I did a thing." You whisper into the phone.

"A thing? Ooh, what kind of thing?" She asks.

"A bad thing." You reply.

"Do tell." She says excitedly.

"I accidentally..slept with Kai." You whisper.

She says nothing.

"I'm sorry. WHAT?" She gasps. "Kai? As in, you just got over Kai? That Kai?"

"That Kai, yes." You whisper.

"Giiiiiirl." She screams. "So you're back together? I always loved the two of you together."

"He has a fiancee." You whisper.

"I'm sorry again, WHAT?" She says. "And you still fucked him?"

"Well, he said they're on a break." You nervously laugh.

"Shit girl. How do you feel?" She asks.

"He said it was a mistake. The timing was a mistake but all I heard was I'm a mistake." You answer.

"What'd you do?"

"Kicked him out." You laugh.

"Yas best friend, you go best friend." She laughs. "But in all seriousness, are you okay?"

"I don't know." You respond. "I still love him, and I know I could forgive him but I don't know if I should. He broke me, and it took a long time to fix that and then he's got this new girl, and shit.. what do I do, Ji?" You sigh.

"This is something you have to figure out for yourself. I can’t be the one to tell you what to do, as much as I would like to, this is you." She responds.

"Thanks, Ji." You say before hanging up the phone. She was right, you had a lot of thinking to do but also, you really need to talk to Kai.

Kai sat on his couch with his head thrown back as he replayed this evening's events through his head, over and over again. He will admit, he shouldn't have kissed you but it couldn't help it. He really had missed you. He stared at your lips as you yelled at him and he thought about kissing you, then bam, he was doing it and he didn't want it to stop, but then you slapped him and kissed him back and everything escalated from there.

He lets out a loud groan as he thinks about his life and where he was now, he felt like he was going insane. Everything was so fucked up, and in all honesty, it was his fault. Had he just gone after you, none of this would have happened. You would be here, laying in his arms, and you both would be happy but instead, you're broken and it's his fault and he's still in love with you.

Kai thinks back to that day, the one when he let you get away and fuck does he ever wish he could have a redo of that day. The amount of shame he felt for what he did was indescribable.

"Either you want it, or you don't. So let me know." You finished before walking away, and Kai stood there. He couldn't move as you closed the door behind you. He was hurt, angry and ashamed. You were so much more important than his business and he wanted to tell you that, but his pride wouldn't let him. He wanted you to be more understanding of his job and realize that it was just that, a job. So he waited.

He waited for you to return, he waited for a text, a phone call, something - anything but it never came. He thought maybe you needed time but as the weeks went by he slowly began to realize that you had left him and it hurt. It had been too long now, he couldn't crawl back so maybe you would. If he was lucky, you would be the one to reach out to him.

One night he had gone to a restaurant - alone. He ordered a glass of wine, and his meal and sat in silence as he watched the happy couples smile and laugh. He wanted that, with you. As he was lost in thought someone tripped beside him, dropping a purse. He knelt down to help and when he looked at the woman, he was shocked, she was breathtaking but nothing compared to you.

Maybe that's what he needed, a distraction, someone to help him get over you. She smiled at him and he smiled back. "Thank you for your help." She says.

"No problem. Are you okay?" He asks, seeing the tears in her eyes.

"Terrible date." She sniffles.

"Would you like to join me…" he pauses.

"Hwasa." She smiles.

"Would you like to join me Hwasa?" He asks.

"I would love to.." she pauses.

"Kai."

"Yes, Kai, I would love to "

A few months later he was looking at the engagement ring he had bought, that was supposed to be for you and Hwasa had caught him, immediately screaming yes and crying. She was so happy. So he slid the ring on her finger and decided to keep it to himself. A few weeks later, he handed the business over to Baekhyun, not because Hwasa had convinced him like she thought but because he worried she would try to take it over.

Kai was a little in over his head with her, especially when he couldn't stop thinking about you but he just couldn't bring himself to end it with Hwasa. He felt guilty, it had been too long now, maybe he was stuck. Maybe this is what he deserved, his karma for not chasing you.

A few days later, you glanced at the clock as you finished your paperwork, it was 9 pm. You let out a big yawn, stretching out your arms. There was a faint knock at your door, so you finished your stretch as you walked over to see who was here so late. You looked through the peephole and saw Kai standing there swaying. Your heart was in your stomach, you most definitely weren't prepared for this.

With a shaky hand, you turned the doorknob and opened the door slightly. "What are you doing here?" You ask, looking both ways down the hallway.

"I fucking miss you," Kai yells. "Please let me in." He begs.

You can hear your neighbours beginning to get annoyed, so you opened the door fully and grabbed Kai by his shirt to drag him in.

"You can't just show up here like this." You say, crossing your arms. "You're engaged." You finish, those last few words felt so bitter coming out of your mouth.

"I'm not… I'm not engaged." Kai says, walking closer to you. He pulls you in, just holding you but your arms are still crossed. "Please.. hold me back." He whispers.

As a tear rolls down your cheek, you uncross your arms holding onto him tightly. The two of you stand there for a moment, you take in his smell, remembering what he used to smell like. It's the same, but whiskey added tonight.

"Come." You whisper, letting go of him, and pulling him towards your shower. You run the hot water as he stands there. "There are towels in here." You say pointing to the cabinet. "I'll have some clothes for you when you're done." You finish, leaving the bathroom to let him do his thing.

He's not in there for very long. A few minutes later you look up to see him standing there with his towel wrapped around his waist with water dripping from his hair. You bite your lip at the sight of him, taking a deep breath and remembering you can't. You can't do that.

"Here." You whisper, handing him some old clothes of his that you never got rid of. You felt a little ashamed to have kept them this long but it was something you could get over. You turn around as he drops his towel, you can hear him sigh as he slides on his clothes

"Done." He says, his voice low and shaky.

"You need to sleep this off." You say, opening your bed covers. Kai crawls in, scooting over for you.

"Please?" He asks, patting the open space beside him.

"I can't." You whisper. "I'll be on the couch." You finish, walking away and turning out the lights as you make your way to the couch.

Kai wakes up startled. He sits up in bed, confused about where he is, he looks over at the clock, it reads 4:49 am and then he remembers. He came to your house, you hugged him back, put him in the shower and tucked him in. You were so good.

Kai crawls out of bed, feeling his way out of your room and making his way to the living room.

He walks in and sees you curled up on the couch, a small piece of your hair covering your face. He smiles at how peaceful and happy you look in your sleep. He misses watching you sleep at night, just looking at you and feeling so unbelievably grateful that you were his. Kai bends down, scooping you up in his arms and bringing you to your bed. He places you down, covering your shivering body as he crawls in beside you, making sure to leave space between you two. He wished he could wrap his arm around you and fall asleep with his face buried in the crook of your neck, but instead he fell back asleep with his face buried in your pillow and tears rolling down his cheeks.

That morning you wake up, feeling extra warm. You stretch out your back, pushing out your ass and you're met with something hard pushed up against you. Your eyes shoot open as you feel a hand sliding over your stomach, pulling you in closer. You shouldn't be doing this but fuck, you missed him, you missed this and everything that came with it.

A few minutes couldn't hurt. So you snuggled back into him, relishing in the feeling of being held by him again, his strong arms wrapped around you, making you feel like the safest person in the world. Your personality made a bit of a flip and you began scooting your ass back a little more, lightly grinding yourself on his cock.

"Mhmm." He groans, pushing himself against your ass harder. "Goodmorning." He says, his voice husky and quiet.

"Goodmorning." You whisper.

"Can I.. just." He pauses, pushing himself into you further. You weren't sure what came over you, maybe it was the trance that you always seem to be in around him but you opened your legs, giving Kai the invitation to enter.

He lets out a loud groan as he moves to pull his sweats and boxers down, his cock ready as it drips precum. You open your legs a little more, letting him move your panties to the side before he slides himself inside you, stretching out your pussy.

"Fuck." You whimper as he slides in and out of you slowly, making you crave more. He pulls up your shirt, exposing your bare breasts before cupping one, twiddling your nipple between his fingers.

You reach your hand down between your legs, pressing down on your throbbing clit before gently rubbing as Kai continues to thrust inside of you. His face is pressed into your neck, nipping gently as his hot breath flows over you.

"I've missed you." He breathes. "Your scent, your face, your body, your pussy, everything about you." He groans. Kai continues to fuck you, his hand leaving your breast to move up, wrapping around your neck. He lightly squeezes, making you moan loudly as your orgasm builds.

"I missed you." You cry out, rubbing yourself faster, needing your release.

Kai's hand around your neck tightens as you both cum, your body squirming as he fills you up. You both lay there, breathing, taking a moment. He releases your neck but instead of moving away from you, holds you closely for a few minutes.

Kai springs out of bed a few minutes later, pulling on a shirt before finding his shoes. "Shit." He panics.

"What are you doing?" You ask, very confused.

"I have to go to work. I'm already late." He chuckles. "I will text you." He says, kissing you gently on the cheek before running out the door, leaving you standing there with his cum dripping down your leg.

"Rude." You scoff, making your way to shower. Before you get in you text Jisoo, asking her to lunch because now, you have more news.

She texts back immediately confirming and telling you she can't wait.

"Again!?" Jisoo yells, throwing her hands up in the air while you hide behind your hands. "You slept with him, again." She sighs.

"It was a.." you begin.

"I will cut you if you say it was a mistake." Jisoo threatens. "Look, you guys need to chat about what the fuck is happening because you have me confused."

"You're confused? I'm also confused." You sigh, taking a sip of your drink.

"Excuse me." You hear from beside you. You look up and see a very handsome man standing in front of your table. "I'm sorry to bother you, but I just thought you were stunning and wanted to give you my number. If you are interested in a date, call me, if not at least I know I gave it a shot." He smiles, placing a napkin in front of you before walking away.

You and Jisoo laugh as you slip the note into your purse. Considering how things were going with Kai, you didn't think you would need it. You finished your lunch with Jisoo and said goodbye before you went on a stroll and headed back to your apartment. You thought about your morning with Kai and smiled like an idiot as you skipped down the sidewalk, feeling like you were on top of the world.

As you neared your apartment, you decided to stop and grab an iced coffee, maybe even a cookie from your favourite shop until suddenly you weren't very thirsty anymore, but instead, your heart sunk as your throat dried up. You looked in the window of the coffee shop and saw Kai sitting there with Hwasa, his hand in hers as they laughed.

You pulled out your phone and dialled his number. You watched as he checked to see who was calling and then put his phone down, ignoring the call.

With your heart hurting, you continued to walk to your apartment. You decided you were done being played by him and reached in your purse, digging for the napkin the stranger had given you earlier. If Kai wanted to play games with you, fuck with your feelings for him, well then you could do the same, and make him hurt more.

The minute you got home you sat at your kitchen table, dialling the number the man had given you.

"Hello?" He answers.

"Hi." You say. "I realized that I never got your name." You smile.

"I'm sorry." He laughs. "I don't usually do that so I was a little nervous. My name is Taemin." He tells you. For some reason his name made you smile widely.

"Nice to meet you, Taemin. My name is Ayn." You say.

"Well Ayn, would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow night?" He asks.

"I would love to." You answer, without a second thought. Kai was pushed so far to the back of your mind, you didn't even feel guilty about saying yes to Taemin, Kai could have Hwasa.

"7 pm, Jungsik Seoul. Is it okay if we meet there?" He asks.

"Yes, that sounds perfect. See you tomorrow." You say, hanging up after he says goodbye.

You were truly excited, maybe this means you and Kai weren't meant for each other. Setting your phone on the table, you walk away, trying to decide what you wanted to have for dinner tonight when your phone rang again. You made the mistake of answering it without even looking at who was calling, you were just trying to be happy.

"Hello?" You answer, a little tune in your voice.

"Hi, beautiful." You hear on the other end.

"Kai?" You ask.

"Yes, baby, you and me, tomorrow night. Can we talk please?" He asks.

"No." You spit. "I saw you with Hwasa at the coffee shop this afternoon. You were smiling while holding her hand. So much for a break. I really continue to surprise myself at how many times I'll let you fuck with my heart."

"Ayn." He says but you don't stop.

"I have a date tomorrow night." You say. "He's taking me to Jungsik Seoul. So I'm busy, bye." You finish, hanging up the phone. You toss your phone onto your couch, heading to the bathroom and slamming the door behind you, your mood now completely ruined.

You stood outside the restaurant in your red flowy dress and heels as you waited for Taemin to show up. You checked your phone again and it was only 6:57pm, so it's not like he was late, you were just a naturally early person.

"Hey." You hear from behind you. You turn around and see Taemin walking up to you, in his suit that fit him perfectly, his hair laid out in a perfect way to shape his face, his plump lips spread into a smile.

"Hi." You smile.

"Have you been waiting long?" He asks, pulling the door open for you.

"Just a few minutes." You say, walking into the restaurant. "Not long at all."

"Reservation for Lee Taemin." He tells the man at the front who then takes you to your seats.

As the two of you look over the menu, the conversation is flowing and you can't control your laughter. You were having an amazing time with Taemin, but your heart wasn't fully in it. You took a sip of your wine as Taemin looked past you, slightly confused.

"Hey man." He says, standing up.

"What the hell are you doing?" You hear from behind you. It's Kai.

"I'm on a date man," Taemin says, pointing to you.

"With Ayn." Kai snaps.

"Like.. the Ayn?" Taemin asks, looking between you both.

"Yeah." Kai answers.

"Bro, I'm sorry, I didn't know," Taemin says, putting his hands up to surrender.

"You don't get to do this." You spit, standing up from the table. "You don't get to waltz in here and pull this shit."

"He's a friend, Ayn. He knows about everything and how bad I've wanted you back." Kai tries to explain.

"Oh, I'm sure you wanted me back so bad." You scoff. "That's why you were getting all cozy with Hwasa yesterday right? That was wanting me back, right?" You yell, crying again. "I'm tired of you lying to me about her. Either you're done with her or you're not." You finish in a whisper.

"I am done. Look, Ayn, it's not what you think at all. Please, please let me explain." He begs.

You look around the restaurant at all the people watching you and your drama. "Fine." You whisper, sitting down slowly into your seat.

"Do you mind?" Kai asks Taemin, pointing to his seat.

"Get your girl, man." Taemin smiles, walking out of the restaurant, leaving you both to talk.

"I'm just going to go to the bathroom." You sniffle, earning a smile from Kai.

You walk to the bathroom, with the plans of fixing up your makeup, trying to make yourself look somewhat presentable again. But you never had expected to see Hwasa standing in the bathroom, leaning against the wall as if she was waiting for you.

"Awh." She fake pouts. "Poor little Ayn. Are you upset that you're trying to ruin someone else's relationship?" She asks.

You ignore her.

Hwasa laughs. "Do you think you've won because he's sitting out there wanting to talk to you? Sweetie, he walked out on you once, what makes you think he won't do it again?" She smiles. "If I were you, I'd be so insecure because I'm not giving up my man." She spits, walking out of the bathroom.

Fuck your makeup, you storm right out of the bathroom and head for the table you share with Kai. "Are you done with her?" You ask, slamming your hands on the table.

"W-what?" He asks. "Yes, I don't want her."

"Then you should probably let her know because she just told me in the bathroom that she's not giving you up." You tell him.

Kai stands up, looking around the restaurant. "Hwasa." He calls out.

She smiles widely as she walks towards the table. "Hi, baby." She purrs, sliding her arm onto his shoulder.

Kai pushes her off. "Look, I told you yesterday over coffee, I'm done. I don't want you." Kai growls.

"Are you forgetting our little arrangement?" Hwasa scoffs. "I can pull out my money and you'll be ruined." She threatens.

"You'll have your money back tomorrow, first thing. You're not hanging this over my head anymore, Hwasa." Kai spits, pointing to her face. "Get it through your thick skull, it's always been her." He finishes, walking towards you, taking your hand and pulling you from the restaurant, leaving Hwasa standing there, looking like a fool.

It had now been a year of you and Kai being back together and they have been the best year of your life. After that night at the restaurant, you and Kai sat down and had a very long talk about everything, clearing the air, no more secrets. Slowly as the days went on, you began to trust him more and more, which led to you slowly dating again.

After a few months you didn't want to do the slow thing anymore. You wanted him fully. You had no doubts about your relationship, and you didn't want to wait to give yourself fully to him. Kai had your heart in his hands, and you knew he would never do anything to break it again.

"You're lying." Kai whispers, staring at Hwasa with wide eyes. "You can't.. it's not mine." Kai says.

"The Night of the hotel with the papers. That wasn't Ayn you were with. It was me." She tells you.

Kai closes his eyes, flashing back to that night four months ago.

"I miss you." You pout into the phone, making Kai chuckle on the other end.

"I miss you too, baby." He groans. "I'm going to kill Baekhyun for this."

"You can't kill him. He needs his best friend. Make sure you're safe tonight. I have something exciting to tell you when you get home in the morning." You smile, looking over at the positive pregnancy test sitting on the kitchen table.

"Okay baby, they're calling me, so I will see you in the morning. I love you." He sighs.

"I love you more." You whisper before hanging up the phone.

"Sorry about that." Kai says, putting his phone in his pocket.

"No worries." Hwasa answers, sliding papers towards him. "These are the transfer of ownership papers." She says, pouring a glass on whiskey for Kai.

"This is all you called me here for? To give me papers?" He asks.

"Yes." Hwasa answers. "Actually, I do have a question." She says.

Kai takes the glass drinking the shot before Hwasa fills it up again.

"Why Ayn?" She asks. "What is so special about her?"

Kai chuckles as he drinks another shot, and another one. "She was the first one to think of me as more than just a dick." Kai answers. "She saw i was worth more than being just a good fuck."

Hwasa nods her head as she pours Kai another shot, his body beginning to feel warm.

"I think you're more than just your dick." Hwasa whispers, pushing the shit towards him, leaning in closely to Kai.

He takes a breath, smelling the air. It smells like you, he can smell your perfume. "Ayn." He smiles. His world spins slightly as he takes the shot. He looks up and he swears he sees you sitting across from him.

"Lets go to bed." He hears. A woman helps him up, taking him up to a hotel room and laying him in the bed.

"Ayn, my sweet baby. I like your dress." He smiles as he squints his eyes, watching the dress fall to the floor.

"I want you." He hears a whisper, making him groan.

"Oh baby, I want you too." Kai groans, unblocking his belt.

He watches as his cock is pulled out. He closes his eyes as a mouth wraps around his tip, teasing him with a tongue before sucking hard, bobbing up and down as his cock gets sucked.

"Fuck." He huffs, his hands reaching up and grabbing a chunk of hair, holding the head steady as he thrusts himself up, his cock sliding down the throat.

"Ride my cock." He whimpers.

His eyes are still closed as he feels a body climb up the bed, hovering over him before sitting on his cock. "Oh god." He hears moaned from above. He places his hands on hips, helping rock back and forth.

"You always feel so good around my cock." He whines, his fingertips digging into the thighs on top of him.

"Cum." He demands, his teeth clenched together. He listens to the sweet sound of moans from above him, as fingertips dig into his chest.

It doesn't take long for Kai to cum, filling up the warm pussy that surrounds his cock.

"Fuck, I love you." He sighs before falling asleep.

In the morning Kai wakes up startled and confused. He remembers drinking with Hwasa, but he must have drank too much. He looks over and sees Hwasa sleeping in the other bed in the room, both of them still fully clothed. He went home that morning and told you about the wild sex dream he had about you, and you told him you were pregnant.

Kai walks in the door of your shared apartment and sees you standing there, with two tiny baby onesies, one with blue writing and one with pink.

"It's twins babe." You cry. "A boy and a girl!"

Kai walks towards you, dropping to his knees, sobbing with his head down.

"I'm so sorry Ayn, I fucked up." He whispers. "Hwasa's pregnant and it's mine."

#exowritersnet #noonasinnetwork #kai #kim jongin #exo kai smut #exo smut fanfic #kim kai #kai smut #exo #exo smut #jongin #exo writing #exo fanfic #exo imagines #kpop smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut scenarios

190 notes · View notes

internalsealpanic · 3 years

Text

Death Cannot Take You

Summary: You died. You should have died, yet here you are having the audacity to still be walking.

A/n: This is semi abandoned old guard au. I made it for 3 reasons. 1) I love Old Guard. 2) I love writing resurrection scenes cus it makes my brain calm. 3) This is a poly that I am desperate for.

Warning: Violence, kidnapping, terrible explanations, and blatant disregard for patient care.

The world shook violently as it staggered into view— blotchy patches of fluorescent lights and rough textures. Drowning the heavy scrape of metal is a chorus of thumping and ringing in your ears. Your hands fly to the seat in front of you, cold metal pressed against hot skin as the train rattles on. It makes your stomach lurch, dredging out its contents.

Crumpled in your seat, you heave a ragged breath. You retch, the contents of your stomach burning in your esophagus. You screw your eyes shut unable to take another long gulp of air; it stung to breathe in the piss heavy air. You need to breathe. You need the oxygen. You need your mind in working order. Sucking in a greedy lungful, you cough it out, body rejecting it.

There was a heat.

A pulse.

A pistol.

A laugh.

You can remember the wetness of saliva and blood and tears on your face as the warmth bled out of your fingertips.

It was cold.

It was so cold.

Your heartbeat picks up. It’s getting harder to breathe. Your windpipe is closing. The world is getting smaller. The bones in your hands are rattling.

A cry pries itself out of your chest, tearing its way out of your mouth. They’re not stopping. They’re still laughing.

No.

Please god, no.

With another violent rattle, your consciousness slips.

You’re cold again. Shadows grasp at the corners of your vision. The world is blotchy— a patch of tangling threads.

The alley smells of piss and garbage. The smell is thick enough to make you choke. Your heart had stopped a while ago. No, your mind did. No, it was your heart you’re sure. No, no. It was his heart that stopped.

It’s cold. Someone is crying out for you. It’s your father. You’re scared. Your blue eyes are fading in color. You’ve faced death before— No, not you. He has. He’s faced death always with a smile but now with his heart at a complete stand still he’s sure this is it. He’s sure this is how he dies. It isn’t on the trapeze or because of some cookie plan made by a costumed nut case. Your— his heart stops.

He died.

So did he. There’s another man. He’s lying on the battlefield. The sky is so pretty. You can hear canonfire. There’s another man beside him. He’s dying too. Your fair hair is matted red. Your— his flesh is reknitting itself. It’s— The whole in his— your stomach is closing the whole in it. You’re gasping for breath. The alley doesn’t stink of piss and garbage; it smells like cotton fields and summer heat.

He died.

You died.

There’s a buzzing in the air— the thrum of electricity as it writhes in the wires. Bouncing your leg, you wait for the receptionist to call your name. Anxiety sings in your veins like a chorus of scraping metal.

You don’t remember what happened last night— not clearly.

It’s all a melting pot of images and voices and touches.

You cup your hand over your mouth, the stomach acid burning its way up your esophagus. Your tongue is tacky with dried saliva and the lingering taste of copper. They’re laughing. They’re all still laughing. The ringing in your ears won’t stop.

You fold. Legs curl up into your chest as you dip your head under. Eyes sliding shut, you let the darkness pool in your mind. The vague sounds in the emergency room coalescing into a discordant symphony. You let yourself dream again.

You lift your head up slowly, colors bleeding into view. The words don’t make sense.

“Kid, are you ok?”

You regard the large man with the open—mouthed confusion of a fish. He’s handsome in a rough sort of way— grisled with a full beard, cropped hair, and gunmetal blue eyes— eye. He’s got an eye patch. You swallow. Your lungs inflate as they inhale the sterile scent of the room. The smell of hand sanitizer is too thick. He’s tall. You crane your neck to look up at him. It hurts. He must easily be 6’3”, maybe even taller. His chest is broad and through the shirt, he’s wearing you can see the expanse of taut well—defined muscles. His lips are curved up at one side in a lopsided smirk. Your head is pounding. You shut your eyes, vigorously nodding your head. You know what he’s staring at. You know what his eyes— eye— are trained on.

You… You haven't changed. The crisp white shirt you’d worn to your job is dark and wrinkly with dried blood. You hate it. You hate how uncharacteristically messy you look; it makes you feel off—model, like something that is a cluttered version of you.

You curl up again. This time the ringing in your ears blocks out everything else. Your head dips back into the dark. It’s cold and stuffy and your ears were ringing when they—

Your eyes fly open and there’s a figure in front of you. You squint. The figure is smaller, less broad; a nursing assistant with kind eyes stands over you with a clipboard. You breathe. You turn your head to the man from before. He’s standing next to a man— younger, shorter. He looks dwarfed next to the other man but he’s average height and it would be funny if you had the energy. You’re far enough away that you can’t be sure of his features but it’s not hard to tell that he’s pretty. He’s got rich brown skin, black hair, and a gymnast’s poise. He’s familiar. Both of them are. They’re talking to the police. You freeze.

Are they here for you? Who are they?

“I need you to follow me back into the ER,” she says gently, grip firmly grasping your shoulder. You run your hand through your matted hair. Your hand comes back slick and sticky with sweat and dried blood. The oxygen in your lungs stutters. You feel another squeeze on your shoulder. You’re back. You’re not whole but you’re back.

“I’m sorry,” you croak, legs wobbling beneath you as you stand.

You follow her. It’s faint but you can feel someone follow you as you disappear into the hall with her.

The walk to the hall was peaceful. It was steadying. It’s the talk with the doctor that’s putting you on edge. He’s tapping his pen on the clipboard. Your mind writhes with every tap. Sighing, you rub your eyes and try to push the sensations away. “I— I’m so sorry. I’m just. It’s my mind. I just can’t—” you breathe “—I can talk. I’m sorry.” You wave vaguely.

“Alright tell me what happened.”

You swallow. Your trachea still feels splintered. “I—” breathe “—I was cornered. In an alley. Behind a butcher shop. I was trying to take a short cut—” he taps a pen against the board "— I was attacked." You finish, fingers tracing up the length of your throat. Attacked was too quick a word. Attacked was the kind of word you used for the quick in and out of a knife— the split second bite of a bullet. You weren’t attacked. You were— what happened to you felt like an eternity.

Shuffling, he looks you over. There's a prickle in the back of your neck. There's someone watching you. Your eyes flick. There's the young man. His eyes are a warm tropical blue. He waves at you. He looks uneasy. The man from before is trying not to pay attention. Your legs swing, almost clipping the doctor's clipboard. The doctor frowns at you but you shrug.

"You don't seem to have been injured."

You blink. "That's not possible," you say, hands shaking,"they had me for hours." No that wasn't true. At most they had you for an hour or maybe two but that didn’t matter not at the bite of the bullet, not at the slice of flesh, not at the impact of the bat.

"I need you to breathe," the doctor instructs, placing a hand on your back; it tenses. You go rigid. He pulls back muttering about x—rays and brain scans.

Catching his lab coat in a death grip, you beg: "Please don't leave me."

"Ma'am, you're perfectly safe here."

They will find you.

He thinks you're hysterical. You know that from the way he looks at you, like a caged animal. "We have security personnel if need be," he assures, none—too—gently prying his coat from your grip. "We'll close the curtain if that makes you feel safe and there are hospital gowns in the closet if you'd like to change."

You nod quietly.

You slowly peel off your shirt. The cool air stings. You suck in a breath. You think of the dream you had. That man's heart stopping. The press of lips. The bite of metal against skin. You look down at your skin— no bruises, no cuts, nothing.

You're scared.

You know these memories aren't fully yours.

You hear the door slide open. Your knee jerk reaction is to be embarrassed. You're in your underwear. Pulling on a gown, you're ready to snarl at the intruder. Your heart stops. It's the man from before.

"Did they take a blood sample from you yet?" He asks, closing the curtain behind him.

His gaze is unyielding as he makes slow predatory strides towards you. You flatten yourself against the wall. "No— I— what?"

"Good."

"What—" There's a sharp pain in the side of your head. There's blood trickling down the side of your head. Your vision is fading.

Falling forward, you grasp your blood tacky hands at his shirt. You feel weightless. You're on his shoulder.

"Who are you?"

"You'll find out."

The desert sand billows as a gust of wind blows through the dunes. You’re searching for someone. Your friend. His friend not yours. He’s somewhere. He’s being held prisoner. You’ve kept him waiting long enough.

You turn your head and the scene shifts.

There’s a sky full of lights above you, glittering. You can’t tell if they’re man made or not. You reach out to them. Your hands aren’t yours. You squint. Your hands are dark and calloused— covered in sawdust. There’s a terrible shape in your stomach. You’re scared but that’s not new. There’s always a little fear when you go on the trapeze.

You shift under the cover, limbs wrapped around a pillow. The smell of freshly roasted coffee is heavy in the air. You burrow your face more into the pillow. Mark can wake you up—

"And you thought kidnapping her was the solution?!"

You wince at the tone. Shuffling your limbs quitely out of the covers, you press yourself to the wall, peaking over the corner just a fraction— just enough to see two men arguing. The taller man with white hair facing the hall opening into the sleeping area.

“It was.”

“Slade, you can’t just go kidnapping people!” the younger man shouts, his face red while his arms waved all over the place. Slade, you assumed, stood impassively, but his arms were now crossed over his chest in a defensive manner.

“I just did.”

The younger man runs his hand over his face and through his hair, ruffling it in frustration. “She’s going to be terrified when she wakes up.”

You are. Your eyes flick to the window. You could escape. You're in a motel room you realize. If they’re distracted enough, you could make it out.

“Well, Kid, it looks like you’re right.”

“Of course, I am—”

You look up. The two men are looking in your direction. Should you go back to the bed and pretend to be asleep? Is there any point? Just make a run for it.

You sprint only to hit what feels like a brick wall. You stagger back but what feels like a metal band wraps around your waist. The next thing you know is that you feel weightless.

“Slade, put her down! You’re going to give her a heart attack.”

“Relax, kid, it’s not like it’s gonna kill her.” Your body is dropped unceremoniously on the bed. You bounce a couple of times before your body settles against the soft sheets. Scrambling back against the headboard, you look between the two men trying to decide what to do. You place a pillow in front of you as a shield. The pounding of your heart is loud in your ears that you don’t think you’ll be able to hear anything that comes out of your mouth.

“I’m broke,” you finally manage. You turn to the younger man. “My roommate is broke too.” He gives you a confused furrow in his brow. “We can’t afford ransom. You won’t get anything, so please just… just let me go. I won’t tell the police. I promise.” Folding your legs behind the pillow, you press yourself into the headboard further. The young man sighs and slumps. “We don’t want money.” You stiffen, keenly aware that save for the flimsy protection of the hospital gown, you’re only in your underwear. He seems to realize what you’d concluded.

Slade snorts. “Way to go, kid.”

“Yeah, thanks for the help, asshole.”

“I have done nothing wrong.”

“Ah, yes. Aside from kidnaping her you mean,” he snarls. You swallow loudly, trying to keep the bile down. The younger man turns to you, the impressive glare he was sporting slides way too easily into concern. His body rolls into a different shape; it’s the kind of posture you’ve used when comforting your younger sibling. He lowers himself on the bed slowly. He reaches out a hand. Carefully, he says “We won’t hurt you.”

And you want to believe him. You desperately want to believe him.

“Real convincing, Grayson.” Slade sneers as he watches your recoil from Grayson’s outstretched hand. Grayson levels another glare at Slade who simply huffs and shrugs.

“I haven’t done anything to you. Please let me go.” You croak.

Grayson looks at you helplessly. “(Y/n)... We can’t...”

“You died last night.” Slade says. Nothing in his tone suggests a question. It’s just a statement. No room for doubt.

You blink, nose scrunching. “I— I was mugged.” You cover your face with your hands. You’re pretty positive that you’d remember being murdered and you say as much. You got cornered by three to four gang members and they mugged you. That was it.

Your stomach rebels at the thought.

Grayson gives you that pitying look again. He pries your hands from your face, blue eyes bearing down at you with so much concern. His touch is so gentle that you almost cry. “Sweetheart, think about it.”

You shake your head trying to pull your hand away from him. He doesn’t let you. Your head is throbbing. You’re scared and confused and you’re starting to feel anger prickle under your skin. “I think I would know if I died, asshole,” you snarl and the shift in tone catches them both off guard.

Slade sighs. There’s a flash of metal and a gunshot. The pain radiates from the middle of your stomach; it’s sharp. Some small, shrill sound escapes you. You’re gasping as you look at him again. He’s looking at a watch. It looks expensive. It’s funny how even during death your mind finds a way to procrastinate.

“It’s taking a little while. Of all the inconveniences, why is it so slow the first few times?”Slade mutters in a voice that would sound right at home in a self checkout line. His shoe is tapping against the rug. You wonder if that’s expensive too.

“Why would you shoot her?” Grayson demands, shooting up from his spot on the bed. The loss of weight jostles the bed. You wince.

You look down. Something strange is happening. Your flesh like cloth is reknitting, leaving the seamless expanse of your stomach.

You look back up, eyes blown wide and frantic. You pat your stomach, hand coming away with a thin film of blood but the strange tingling you get when you’re expecting to feel something but you don’t. The bullet hole wasn’t there. It just wasn’t.

A sprawl of frantic horror lives down the line of your sternum. It was the kind of amorphous energy you get when something doesn’t make sense, when something just shouldn’t have happened— a sort of odd dislocation in the universe.

Grayson holds his hands up in a placating manner as he sits back down on the bed. He’s careful not to jostle you but you barely notice. You think his hands look familiar. Your— his calloused hands reach out to you. “You need to trust us.”

“You. Just. Shot. Me.”

“Correction, he shot you.”

Slade rolls his eye. “Ah yes, kid, very helpful.”

“It’s an important distinction.”

“Fine!” You point to Slade. “You shot me.” You point to Grayson. “You. Let. Him.”

“Sweetheart, I appreciate that you think I have any control over that brute,” Grayson says, pointing his thumb over his shoulder, “but I have about as much control over that brute as I do over a storm. ”

Unamused, you throw a pillow at Grayson hard enough that he almost topples over the edge. You grab another pillow and Grayson raises the pillow you threw at him in defense. You can see the smile in his eyes; it makes the acid behind your teeth boil. All embarrassment and horror bleed out to give way to anger as you throw the pillow at him with the same ferocity as before. Slade snatches the pillow midair saving Grayson from having to deflect it. Grayson gives him a smile that looks like an insincere apology. Slade, like you, seems unconvinced and pushes your discarded pillow into Grayson’s fine—boned face. It does nothing to wipe the grin off his face but you feel a little better knowing you’re not the only one who has to endure him.

You fight the urge to laugh but not too hard. The chords of your muscles come loose and for the first time in what feels like an age, you feel tired. “I’m dead. I died. Then you shot me… And then you shot me. WHAT THE HELL?” You say, the accusation directionless. You were supposed to die on a smoking heap of trash, gutted and pathetic. Hands falling limply to your sides, you let your mind go through that a dozen times because, well, how does one process their own death and undeath? You shouldn't still be here.

"What’s happening to me?"

"She's acting far more reasonable than you did." Slade teases.

Grayson scowls at him, slapping him with the pillow. Slade just kind of grunts clearly less hurt than annoyed. Considering the solid wall of muscle the man is sporting, you wouldn’t be surprised if it would take nothing short of a brick to hurt him. "YOU SHOT ME IN THE HEAD THEN SHOT ME THROUGH THE STOMACH."

“I only shot you in the stomach because the bullet through your head didn’t get through your thick skull.”

You’re one missed heartbeat away from laughing. Your brows shoot up, limp limbs coming back to life as you curl in on yourself again. What have you gotten yourself into?

"Oh my god, I mean— Shit!" Slade snorts as Grayson flails. Grayson puts his hand in his face, groaning. “Sorry about that… Slade is terrible at explanations.”

Slade makes a noise in the back of his throat. It sounds like a laugh and twitch of his lip would suggest so but you're still second guessing yourself. "You're one to talk Mr. We Won't Hurt You." The air fills with Slade's amusement as Grayson’s cheeks flush. It's funny how easily pretty shifts to adorable.

You sigh raking your hand through your hair. It's been an exceptionally long day. "What’s happening to me?" You whine mostly to yourself. "I'm not a meta. I think I would know if I was something like that… Right?" You look up at Grayson who just gives you a complicated expression. "You know what's going on don't you?" You say, crawling closer to Grayson. He shifts a bit, keeping his eyes straight. Grayson blinks and runs his hand through his hair, collecting his scattered thoughts. He leans back, putting a bit of space between you as he speaks. "We got off on the wrong foot," he says extending a hand to you, "the name's Dick—”

“Are you sure?” and Slade laughs at your question. Grayson— Dick (is that really his name?) looks tired like he’s heard this question a million times. “Yes, I’m sure about my name.” You feel a little bad but not enough to actually say anything that even comes close to an apology. “Anyway,” Dick (?) continues,”the grumpy old man over there is Slade. We’re sort of in the same boat as you.”

The last line makes you pause. You think back to your dreams, the quick flashes of sensations. Oh. That was— Oh. Your stomach feels like lead. You watched them— Oh.

“I’m sorry.” you say, at a loss of what else to say. Death was an intimate thing. You guessed that only the dead or the previously dead would know that. You fold your hands on your lap as you sit back on your legs, a primm gesture that made you feel solid and a bit more like yourself than you had in hours.

Dick’s warm blue eyes are wide. He goes still for a moment taking in what you’d just said. His head shakes and he smiles at you, an expression that is weightless. It made you think of the trapeze. “It’s ok,” he assures you, warm hand on yours, “it’s not your fault… Anyway!” You use the very sarcastic brows you’ve been given to convey your concern about the neck snapping shift in tone. Dick looks at you sheepish, hand rubbing the back of his neck before deciding to soldier on. “We don’t know why but some individuals are brought back to life and are made immortal. We’ve— I’ve got a few working theories but—”

“Immortal.” You repeat, trying to make the concept make sense.

“We, now including you, don’t die, kid.” Slade deadpans.

“Thanks. I’ve read a dictionary.” You say, eyes flicking to your very much intact stomach. Dick laughs, the sound high and breezy. He tries to stifle it but even the hand cupped over his mouth couldn’t contain the sound. Slade’s long leg stretches to give Dick a not so light kick. This does nothing but increase the volume of his laughter. You look back up at them. “So, what does my latest existential crisis have to do with either of you?”

“Well for one,” Slade says, standing up, “we can’t have you running around with a millenia old secret without even attempting to teach you how to disappear first.” This is what gets your stomach to rebel. Bile is climbing up your throat. Dick, quick as a whip, holds a trash can out for you. You put your hand in front of you. You hold out your hand to stop him, not even sure if you had anything in your stomach aside from acid.

You had just started getting your life back together and then this. Shaking your head, you try to break the thought down into more manageable pieces before swallowing it. “Ok. ok. That makes sense. I guess.”

Dick pulls back still looking concerned. “You are taking this alarmingly well.”

You stare at him. Your stomach rolls again. "Do I have a choice?" You ask from behind your hand.

Slade huffs, "she's right, kid."

"Is he just gonna keep calling us kid or..."

"Considering he's got 700 years on the both of us?" Dick laughs like he didn't just hit you with a ton of bricks.

"Ah, so he's a museum piece. Got it." You deadpan and you're rewarded with another roll of laughter from Dick. Slade grunts but doesn't protest much more than that. You turn your focus to Dick. "So how old are you?"

"A lady never tells," Dick says, crows feet wrinkling at the corners of his eyes. You blow air between your lips. "Lemme guess, you're like 2000 years old."

Dick makes a noise; it sounds offended. You don't much care, finally feeling a smile creeping on to your face. It doesn't hurt when you do not like everything else right now. That fact would be almost uncomfortable if you weren't so weary.

Folding your knees against your chest, you squish your face against your arms. "No seriously, old man. How old are you?"

"You're persistent." Dick hums.

"I want to know if I can cite you for my thesis on ancient greek culture."

Dick shakes his head. "You're better off citing him."

"Sadly, he's right Grayson is just a mere 27 years old."

You blink. He's— He's around your age. You breathe. "Ok so I'm not alone. Great."

"You're not," Slade says, "he was much harder to deal with."

"Do I have to keep mentioning that you shot me twice?" Dick asks crossing his arm sover his chest.

"Are you ever going to stop bringing it up?"

"When it stops working."

"It ever started."

From their banter, they're familiar with each other. The tiredness from before ebbs back in. You feel alone. Out of habit, you bury your head against your knees. There is something comforting about the stillness.

A warm hand settles on your shoulder. You jolt up, knocking the back of your skull against the headboard. It makes a loud thunk against the wall. Dick winces, pulling his hand away from you. "Sorry about that."

"It's fine." You lied still seeing stars.

They look unconvinced. You don't quite care. "You look like you need a good meal."

"Or a hot shower," Slade suggests.

You think it over, hand on your stomach brain still looking for the bullet wound. Eyes flicking between both, you lick your lips before saying: "I'll take you up on that shower." Your eyes drift back down to your arms, concentrating on the small details, the imperfections you've gathered through the years. The thought that you won't be able to add more doesn't really register like it should.

Dick nods getting up to grab something. "I might need a couple of minutes in there," you say absently.

"Take all the time you need." Dick says handing you a towel and a fresh shirt. You accept them with a small nod, carefully peeling yourself away from the bed. Your eyes go into a tunnel vision, only focused on the door to the shower.

You stop, a hand gripping your wrist. The pressure is solid and reassuring. You turn back to see Dick, biting his cheek."It'll get better I promise."

You give Dick a crooked smile. "I'll probably feel a lot better when I'm not covered in blood."

"That always helps," Slade says flatly.

"You'd know."

"You really wanna scare her more right now?"

"It's just way too easy with you around."

"Please save the other world shattering revelations after my shower," You whine pulling the towel to your chest.

"Can't promise that." Slade says with a rumble that just radiates bastard.

You blow out a breath, raising a middle finger over your shoulder. It was a rude gesture you'd never normally even consider but it felt appropriate at this moment.

"Hope you don't mind pizza." Dick says already dialing the number.

You stop leaning against the door, face squished against the frame. "What kind?"

"Hnnnnn... I figure you would like ham and mushrooms."

With amusement, you note how Slade blanches quietly behind Dick. You quietly question both of their maturities. "how'd you figure oh wise ancient one?"

"Please don't ask him that."

"Why not? I'm curious to see how his mind works."

"You're going to regret that."

You cock your brow as Dick draws himself up. He reminds you of a pitcher winding up. "Because I'm a fun—guy, get it?"

Slade groans, hand on his face and for once he looks like an old man not like a terrifying wall of intimidation.

"You're right. I do regret it," you say, stifling a laugh,"anyway, if you'll excuse me, the shower is calling my name. You two love birds have fun."

Slade sits beside Dick, an arm wrapping around his waist. "You heard the lady. She told us to have fun," Slade rumbles into Dick's ear only loud enough for you to hear. You flush. Realization hitting you like a truck. The color of Dick's face mimicking yours as he shoves Slade's face away. That warm shower will now be a cold one, you think as you awkwardly shuffle into the bathroom.

Instead of a shower, you elected for a nice soak. You're too weary and rung out and you hadn't seen a decent bath tub in a few years so you took the chance. It's not like an infection from the tub could kill you, right?

You step out of the bathroom feeling refreshed if not a bit cold from your shirt. Dick's shirt was big but it stopped shy of your thighs. You couldn't really complain. You were just happy to get out of the blood soaked clothes.

You pad your way into the room and eyes are instantly on you. Slade quite blatantly stares at the curve of your ass as it peaks out from under your shirt. You think of scolding him but decide to leave that up to Dick who… is also staring at you… in the same area. He has the decency to look embarrassed when you catch him. Clearing his throat, Dick answers the knock on the door which just adds another set of eyes on you.

A poor pimple faced kid stands frozen at the door, slack jawed. His eyes dart around the room, frantically looking for a camera or something. You sigh. You too could see how this could be a lazy set up to a porn. You’re slightly flattered at the idea that you could be astronomically hot enough to be in a porn with either of these two but you’re more worried about the kid having to deal with a boner while he delivers pizzas. Dick, incredibly oblivious to the problem, seems to take his time looking for his wallet.

Slade, not oblivious to the problem, makes his way to the poor kid, looking as imposing as possible as he hands the kid a fifty. Whatever arousal the kid felt at the moment floods out of him along with any color in his face.

You snort plopping on to the bed and crossing your leg over the other and you watch as the men’s eyes widen as they trace the expanse of skin. This is the closest you will ever be to a bond girl.

Slade slams the door in the kids face, not even bothering with the change. Dick rolls his eyes with a crooked smile playing on his lips. “She hasn’t been with us for a day and you’re already acting possessive,” Dick laughs, patting Slade’s chest as he walks past.

Dick plops on the bed next to you. You press your cheek into his shoulder as he opens the box. The smell of greasy cheese and canned vegetables floods your nostrils in a concert of sweet, unhealthy goodness. Your stomach rumbles and your hand darts down to get a piece. Your hand jerks back as your skin tingles from the heat.

“Sorry, love, you can still feel pain.” Dick says, puckering his face as he blows the rising steam away. As if to be contrary, Slade grabs the largest slice and immediately takes a bite. You turn to Dick, raising a brow to ask. “Him? He’s just a weirdo.” Dick answers, grabbing his own slice. You roll your eyes grabbing your own slice.

Dick’s trying hard not to stare at your legs but ends up staring at your lips instead. “Do you have any spare pants?” You ask around a mouthful of pizza.

“I’ll get it,” Slade says before Dick can even stumble out a response, “clearly wonder boy hadn’t thought this through.”

You hum around another mouthful in agreement and Dick just looks at you betrayed. You uncross and recross your legs to prove your point.

Shifting away from Dick and swallowing the last bit of your pizza, you take the pants Slade offers you and you’re not at all surprised that it doesn’t fit right. “Any chance I can go back to my apartment? Even just for clothes?”

“Sadly no.”

“Should I ask?”

“Do you really feel like talking to cops right now, kid?”

“Yanno, you’re gonna have to distinguish between us at some point,” Dick huffs, opening a can of soda,”and she’s right we do need to get her new clothes.” He hands you a can. Not feeling parched, you just roll it in your palm feeling the need to indulge in the feeling on cool metal. You catch yourself before you tuck your legs against your chest again.

“I don’t see why you’re so hell bent on this, kid 1. You clearly like seeing her in your clothes.” Slade says, flatly the way you’d read out the summary of a particularly boring movie summary, probably based on a Nicholas Sparks novel.

“You think adding a number is enough effort to distinguish us?” Dick sneers, trying to distract from the flush of his cheeks.

“Would you prefer I call you ‘Sport’?”

“Dick, for both of our sake’s please accept being called Sport.”

“No!”

“How about ‘Chum’?”

Dick’s nose wrinkles at the name. You’re not sure if it’s the name itself, the way it rolls off of Slade’s tongue, or something to do with your dream. You don’t know Dick well enough to discern.

“Please don’t.” Dick tries politely and there’s a tinge of sadness in his tone. Slade seems to back off, easing into his chair.

You open your mouth wanting to pry but instead of asking the question on the tip of your tongue, you settle for asking for another slice. The air is full of questions but you’re not really sure which one to pluck out. Then again, you’ve got time. And really? Right now, that’s all you have.

Before you can dwell too much on that thought, Slade turns the TV on to drown out whatever Dick was saying. You’d tuned him out a little bit ago. It wasn’t really a matter of choice; it was more a matter of your brain going on power saving mode.

You blink sleepily, the voice of the anchor falling into a low hum in your mind. You’re pretty sure your name blips in between the static of words. There’s a dull recognition in the words ‘kidnapping’ and ‘suspects’ but it all seems so distant at the moment. No reaction registers upon realizing that they were probably talking about your kidnapping and really could anyone blame you when some cosmic fuckery just occurred and now your life has been turned on its head? ____________________________________________________________ Thanks for reading!

#dick grayson x reader #slade wilson x reader #Slade Wilson #dick grayson #slade wilson imagine #dick grayson imagine #crack au #poly

143 notes · View notes

gamergirl929 · 3 years

Text

No One Talks To You That Way (Not While I’m Around) (Carli Lloyd x Reader)

Anonymous Request: Could you do one where T is seen as the sweetest one on the team (or let’s be real tied with christen as the sweetest) and even during many tough games she keeps her cool. Then one day someone says/tweets something about carli and she just goes off. (Cuz I will always have a soft spot for Lloyd)

“I mean, don’t you think it’s time to hang up your cleats? Give some of the newer talent time to shine? I mean we all know you’re certainly missing a step...”

Your eyes widen, as do the remainder of your teammate’s, each and every one of them looking at the reporter who’d asked the question incredulously, his fellow reporters looking at him in the same manner.

Carli Lloyd meanwhile is looking at the man in stunned silence, the woman trying to think of a reply to the clearly blatant jab at her, her career, and the fact that with a spot on the team she’s ‘taking’ from the younger generation.

The remainder of your teammates are OBVIOUSLY livid, each and every one of them shouting at the reporter, but the only clear response, comes from your microphone.

“Actually, I think I can answer that...”

Everyone turns to you, brows furrowed.

You were one of the sweetest members of the team, giving Christen a run for her money, Christen, who is currently looking at you with wide eyes.

“First off, you’re a literal dumbass.” You shrug, Ashlyn snorting loudly as Megan barks out a laugh, the group of reporters surrounding the man snickering.

“Ms. Y/L/N-

“SECOND off, how dare you.” You snarl angrily, an anger that leave your teammates taken aback.

You move to your feet, pointing a finger at the man who shrinks under your gaze.

“How dare you talk to someone like Carli Lloyd like that, she’s a fantastic soccer player, and no she doesn’t need to hang up her fucking cleats.” You swear, reporters on their feet, recording your current rant.

“She’s better at this than you’ll EVER be at your job, and she’s FAR from missing a step, how dare you talk to a legend like that, how FUCKING dare you. I WILL NOT, be silent when it comes to someone I care about, and that someone is Carli Lloyd.” You roar angrily, everyone staring at you with growing eyes.

“You’re a disgrace to your publication’s name, and this will be the LAST time you EVER comes to a conference like this, THAT is a guarantee. Carli Lloyd was and IS one of the best on the NWSL and on the USWNT, she loves this sport and this sport loves her, I love her, and if you can’t see that she's amazing you’re a moron...” You point at the reporter, who is currently red-faced.

“You sir are a fucking moron.”

You clear your throat, slowly taking your seat, your eyes locked with the man’s wide and fearful eyes.

“Now get the hell out of here.”

Wordlessly, and without missing a step, the man shuffles out of the room, his head down as he avoids any and all eye contact.

You pant heavily, angrily as you glare holes in the man’s back, that is until he moves out of sight.

Everyone stares at you in shock and awe, Carli’s cheeks blood red as she goes over all the things you’d said to the reporter, quickly realizing that in your tirade, a few things slipped out that caught her ear.

“I WILL NOT, be silent when it comes to someone I care about.”

“Carli Lloyd was and IS one of the best on the NWSL and on the USWNT, she loves this sport and this sport loves her, I love her.”

Meanwhile you’re at the end of the table, your chest heaving as your fingers drum on the table.

How dare he say that to her?

Who the hell does he think he is?

Your leg bounces up and down, pure lava running through your veins.

You wanted more than ANYTHING to go after him and give him a piece of your mind, to tear into him like a starving animal, but there’s no way you could, you weren’t going to lose your job because of him.

You sigh.

You weren’t going to lose your job, but no doubt there were going to be repercussions for your outburst, but honestly, you didn’t care, you didn’t care because coming after Carli Lloyd was coming after someone you cared about, and that, that was more important than any job could be.

***

It’s wasn’t long after that conference that your phone began to blow up, your Twitter Notifications, your Instagram Notifications, any and all social media accounts you have are currently being bombarded with comments and the like, fans commenting on your comments to the ESPN reporter about Carli Lloyd, nearly all of them praising you in your protection of the USWNT veteran.

A NUMBER of them though, pointed something ELSE you’d said in your rant, something you’d kept bottled up inside for so long that it was just itching to get out, and it HAD just not in the way you thought it would.

Oh my god, I KNEW THEY WERE MORE THAN FRIENDS!

SHE SAID IT GUYS. SHE SAID SHE LOVES HER!

Anyone could see that what you felt for Carli Lloyd was more than friendship, it went WAY beyond that, it always had.

You and Carli Lloyd were close, closer than close, no matter what, she was there for you and you were there for her, and you would be, no matter what.

You prop your elbows up on your knees, your chin resting on your fisted hands.

You planned to keep those feelings buried inside, planned to ignore them altogether, but now?

Now you couldn’t do that.

Just as the thought leaves your mind, there’s a knock at your hotel room’s door, your heart stilling in your chest at the prospect of who it might be.

***

Carli Lloyd looks down at her phone with a small smile, her cheeks flushed pink.

SHE SAID IT GUYS. SHE SAID SHE LOVES HER!

The second the words left your mouth Carli’s heart skipped a beat, the butterflies in her stomach erupting as if someone had sprinted through an empty field full of them, sending them skittering off into the wind.

The rest of your rant fell on deaf ears, the USWNT veteran staring at you in utter shock, not because of the words you were saying but because of what you HAD said, and what you hadn’t said.

All the smiles, and fleeting touches, all the instances you stood up for her on field when she was taken down by rival players, EVERYTHING had started to make sense.

All the signs were there but Carli hadn’t seen them.

Now though... Now she couldn’t ignore them, and she in NO way planned to.

“Well, are you going to talk to her?”

Carli jumps at the sound of a familiar voice, turning to find a number of her teammates standing beside her, each and every one of them wearing massive grin.

Carli remains silent, Julie Ertz snorting as she gives her longtime teammate a shove.

“Well? Get up there and talk to your girl Lloyd!”

Carli rolls her eyes, the woman grinning before she turns and darts to the elevator, her teammates cheering her on as she goes.

The closer the elevator gets to your floor, the more her heart races, the more her head tries to tell her it didn’t mean anything, you meant it in a friendly way.

As with the reporter’s comments, she tunes them out, ignoring them, ignoring the critical voice in her head as she makes her way to your room, stopping at your door.

She nods.

Once.

Twice.

A third time.

Then knocks.

***

It takes you a moment to gather yourself before you head towards the door, stopping in front of the only thing blocking you from whoever is on the other side.

That whoever possibly being the woman you’d stood up for when a reporter had the audacity to ask an idiotic question, and make idiotic statements.

A woman you’d had feelings for, for so long and wanted to confess to, a woman you may be facing in the next few seconds.

You swallow hard and pull the door open, revealing the very woman you’d be thinking about all day.

“He-Hey.” You mumble, unable to look at Carli, instead focusing on your shuffling feet.

Carli smiles.

“Hey.”

The two of you stand there, silent, that is until you clear your throat.

“S-S-Sorry, come in.” You step aside, still unable to look at the woman as she moves into the room the two of you are sharing.

Just as Carli goes to slip passed you, she catches your wrist, the woman pulling you towards the balcony.

The two of you step out into the warm night air, Carli pulling you to the balcony’s railing, her elbows resting on the barrier’s upper bar.

“I wanted to thank you.” She whispers, your eyes widening as you look up at her for the first time since she’d entered the room.

“You don’t need to thank me.” You whisper, the USWNT veteran smiling as she gives your hand, which she’s still holding, a squeeze.

“I do, you didn’t have to stand up for me but you did...” She smiles.

You scoff.

“Of course, I had to, there was no way I was going to let him talk to you that way...” You growl. “I’m not going to let him talk about someone I-

You swallow hard, turning away, your cheeks flushing bright red.

“Love?” Carli whispers, your eyes widening as they lock with Carli’s brown orbs.

Your mouth opens and closes a few time before you take a deep breath.

“Carli-

“Is it true?” She whispers, nervously.

She hadn’t planned on coming right out and asking, but apparently, that’s what was happening anyway.

You can’t find the words, and instead, go with a wordless answer, giving the woman a nod, not daring to look at her.

Carli is unable to bite back a smile as she stares at your profile, the woman’s hand leave yours in favor of sliding up your arm, fingertips leaving goosebumps in their wake as Carli hand moves to rest on your cheek.

“Would it make you feel better if I said I loved you back?”

You stare at the buildings before you, your eyes widening as you turn to Carli, the woman’s hand caressing your cheek.

“You...” You shake your head, mouth opening and closing a few times before you find your words, whispering. “You love me?”

Carli’s tongue swipes at her lips, the woman’s thumb running along your cheekbone.

“How could I not...?” She asks, voice below a whisper as she takes a step towards you, her chest inches from yours.

“T-This isn’t just because I stood up for you...?” You ask, uncertainly and Carli smiles, shaking her head.

“Of course, not...” She laughs. “I guess we were both just as blind to one another's feelings.”

Your eyes widen, darting from sparkling brown orbs, to parted lips and back.

You take a deep breath, covering the hand on your cheek with your own.

“I guess we were...” You whisper, Carli watching as you lean in. “But we aren’t now.”

Carli meets you halfway, her lips pressing gently against yours, the feel of her kiss more than you had ever possibly imagined.

Her opposite hand moves to cup your cheek, the woman pulling you closer, tilting her head to change the angle of the kiss, your hands settling on top of hers.

You pull back, of course, only for a moment before leaning back in, the two of you smiling as your lips again tenderly meet.

Eventually and reluctantly, you part, your eyes fluttering open at roughly the same time, lips splitting into massive grins.

Carli leans back in, her forehead resting against yours.

“You know, we’ll probably never see that ESPN reporter again... I never expected YOU to be the one to tell him off.” She laughs, and you snort, pressing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“I don’t think anyone did, but I’d do it again, no one gets to talk to the woman I-” You stop mid-sentence. “No one gets to talk to the woman I...”

“Love?” Carli grins, your cheeks flushing as you nod.

“Yeah... No one talks to the woman I love that way...” You whisper, grinning when the forward closes the distance between you again, lips touching yours so gently that you wonder if they even touched at all.

Again, with much reluctance you part, the two of you grinning.

“Just so you know...” Carli whispers, your eyes fluttering open to lock with her brown orbs, a grin on the woman’s face as she whispers words you know hold nothing but truth.

“I love you too.”

#uswnt x reader #uswnt imagine #carli lloyd x reader #carli lloyd imagine

291 notes · View notes

stale-cheezit · 4 years

Text

Shower

Summary: You had a press conference with Tony that doesn’t go as planned. Bucky helps you blow off some steam.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 1,552

Warnings: swearing. smutty smut smut. oral (female receiving) hair pulling, daddy kink, bucky’s fucking metal arm, praise kink, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy)

You sit with your legs crossed next to Tony, on a small stage answering questions from various news outlets. You’ve known Tony since you were fresh out of high school. He took you under his wing after your parents died in a plane crash. You helped him form the Avengers. He’s become like a father to you over the years.

“Question for Y/N?” One of the reporters asks.

“Yes?” You smile sweetly.

“It’s come to the world’s attention that you’ve been dating the Winter Soldier for quite a while now...” Here we go again, “What’s it like dating someone who’s taken dozens of innocent lives?”

You try to stay as calm as possible. The question makes your blood boil, “Bucky was under mind control when those events went down. It wasn’t him. It was hydra.”

“Next question please?” Tony quickly says before someone could make the situation worse.

“Is it harder being an Avenger as a girl? Surly it must be more difficult to keep up with everyone else.”

Your fists clench. Small crescent moons form on your palms.

“Y/N is one of our strongest. She’s an extremely valuable part of our team. Her being a girl doesn’t mean she’s not as strong as the rest of the Avengers.”

You mouth a quick thank you to Tony, who smiles at you.

The rest of the conference goes on. You get quite a few more questions about Bucky and about how you “can’t perform as well as some of the other Avengers because you’re a girl.”

In the limo ride home the tension is so thick you could cut it with a knife. Tony sighs loudly, “I’m sorry about that, Y/N. They have no idea what they’re talking about.”

“It’s alright, Tony. It’s not your fault.” The rest of the ride back to the compound is silent. You say nothing when you walk through the doors, making a beeline to the elevator and pressing your floor number. Your fingers run through your hair as a sigh escapes your lips. The audacity of some people.

The elevator doors open and you walk out, Bucky sits in the kitchen with Steve.

“Hey Y/N!” Steve smiles at you.

“Hey doll. How was the conference?” Bucky looks concerned when he sees the stone cold look on your face. You mutter a quiet hello before heading straight to your room. Bucky mutters, “I’ll go talk to her.” To Steve before following you into your room.

You grab one of Bucky’s t-shirts and a pair of shorts before heading to the bathroom. You turn the water on and strip, not bothering to check the temperature before stepping in. Scolding hot water meets your skin as you slide down and sit on the shower floor. The water wets your hair and drips down your face.

You hear the door open, and clothes being pulled off, “Doll? Can I come in?”

“Mhm.” You mutter quietly, not bothering to stand up as Bucky slides open the shower door. Your eyes meet, you look down. Bucky steps in and holds his hand out for you to take. You just put your arms up, wanting him to pick you up. Bucky chuckles and leans down to pick you up, and holds you close to his chest. Your bodies close to one another’s.

You breathe in Bucky’s scent and sigh. “What happened?” Bucky brushes his fingers through your wet hair.

“They were so mean, Buck. They asked me what it was like dating a murderer,” Bucky tenses, “I tried defending you but they wouldn’t stop asking questions and I-I...” A tear falls down your face, “They said it must be hard for me being a girl. That i must have trouble keeping up with everyone else.”

“Doll you know that’s not true... You took down me, Steve, and Clint sparring us.”

“That’s not what got to me.... It’s how everyone sees you. They see you like this bad guy, but you’re not a bad guy. I love you... more than anything in this world. You’re the love of my life and it hurts to hear people talk about you like that.”

“I know.. I know. You know I’ve changed. So does everyone here. That’s all that matters.”

“I think I might go down to the gym later and blow off some steam.” You step directly under the hot water. Letting it fall down your entire body.

“I think I have an idea...” Bucky says, stepping closer to you, running his hands down your hips.

“And what would that be?” You giggle as Bucky guides you to where your back is pressed against the wall. The cold tiles sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’ll see.” Bucky whispers, slowly sinking to his knees. A pool of wetness grows in between your thighs, as you realize what’s coming. Bucky’s fingers trail from your ankles to your hips. He presses soft kisses to your thighs, gently sucking on the skin as he places one of your legs over his shoulder. His kisses get closer and closer before stopping, as he blows cool air on your pussy.

You gasp, “Bucky please...”

“Please what? Tell me what you want babydoll?”

“I want you...” You whisper.

“What part of me, darling? You’ll have to be more specific.” Bucky nips at the skin of your inner thigh. His metal fingers slowly dragging up your legs.

“Your mouth and fingers.”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Please Buck!”

Bucky chuckles, his eyes looking straight into yours as he licks up your slit, a loud groan escaping your lips. Bucky’s lips wrap around your clit. Going back and forth between lapping at your folds and sucking harshly. Your eyes roll back in your head and you swear you saw stars.

“Holy Fu- Ahhhh!” Bucky slips two cold metal fingers inside your cunt. Pumping them in and out at a fast pace, “Oh my god Buck please don’t stop!”

Bucky’s tongue flicks your clit before rolling in in between his lips. The entire room is filled with your moans and pleas. Your fingers tangle in his locks. You feel your stomach begin to tighten, It takes everything in you to stay standing up.

“Bucky please... please please please..” You whisper, desperate for your release.

“It’s okay doll, let it go.” Bucky whispers.

Your hips involuntarily buck as you feel shock waves pulse throughout your body. You arch your back and moan Bucky’s name repeatedly as you cum. Bucky’s fingers keeping their fast pace, and his lips still wrapped around your clit as he helps you ride out your high.

The super soldier rises to his feet, licking off his fingers, “I’ll never get tired of that taste.” He presses a long kiss to your lips, that quickly becomes heated.

“Fuck me.” You mutter against your lover’s lips.

He smirks, “If you say so.” His hand taps your ass, and you jump into his arms, him gladly catching you. You kiss Bucky roughly, holding his face in your hands before using one to guide his hard cock to line up with your pussy. Your breathing hitches as he pushes inside you, a low growl escaping his lips.

“Daddy.” You mewl, feeling his cock twitch inside you. Bucky growls and nips at your jawline, quickly setting a rough rhythm of his hips as he slams into you.

“Say it again.” He demands. Your hips buck forward to meet his, you’ll definitely have bruises in the morning.

“Daddy please!” You nestle your face in the crook of Bucky’s neck, “Harder, fuck.”

Bucky slams his hips into you rougher. Your nails scratch down his back, which the boys will give him shit for tomorrow at the gym, you know he doesn’t mind. Just like you don’t mind all the hickey’s he’s been sucking on your collar and neck.

“Such a good girl... You’re being so good for daddy. You take my cock so well babygirl.”

Bucky’s words could’ve sent you over the edge right there, they sure as hell brought you closer to your peak. Your walls clench around his cock.

“You like it when daddy praises you, don’t you? Oh fuck- You’re such a good girl. Just like that baby, just like that. Cum for daddy. Okay baby? It’s okay, cum for daddy. Cum all over daddy’s cock.”

Your orgasm hits you again, your pussy pulsing around Bucky as you ride out your high. A mix of curses and Bucky’s name leave your lips, your face buried deep in his neck.

Bucky groans as he hits his own high, his pace becoming sloppy as he cums inside you. You grab his face and kiss him as he comes down from his own orgasm. He pulls out of you, still holding you in his arms.

“I love you.” He breathes, pressing soft kisses on your lips.

“I love you.” You reply between kisses.

Bucky sits you down and you help clean each other off. Bucky gently washes your body. A few minutes later you both get out of the shower and start drying off.

“You still up for the gym? I’ll spar you if you want.” Bucky says, reaching for his boxers.

“I was actually hoping for a round two. This time I’m on top.” You wrap your arms around Bucky’s neck, a sinful look in your eyes.

“Oh fuck yes.”

#bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #james buchanan bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #avengers #avengers x reader #the first avenger #winter solider #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes smut #sebastian stan #sebastian stan smut #captain america #tony stark

417 notes · View notes

pinkpastels113 · 3 years

Text

Barking Morning

Rating: G/K+

Word Count: 1,741

Pairing: Chloe Beale/Beca Mitchell

Summary: In which Chloe is livid, Beca is defensive, and a beagle is happily barking away.

B/C. One-shot. Fluff. Neighbors AU.

Excerpt:

Her fingers pull at the gate at the corner of the sidewalk, and she swings it open, striding right in, “Hey!”

A woman about her age looks up from her crouch at the inside of her sliding glass door, her hands halting in their gesture at beckoning her pet forward, and Chloe’s feet falters at the sight of startled blue eyes meeting her gaze.

The beagle that had been making its happy way back towards its owner perks up at the sound and turns its head, its tail wagging like crazy as another bark permeates the air at the sight of its distraction.

“Yeah?” Her neighbor’s voice is skeptical and wary and just at the beginnings of being defensive as her eyes lose its spark of surprise and roves over her livid figure.

Chloe’s heart pounds at the gesture and then her feet are resuming its vehement traipse forwards because as if adding insult to injury, her neighbor is attractive and if she wasn’t so freaking mad, she would’ve smiled and flirted and tried to make her acquaintance, and surely someone that attractive would’ve at least had the decency to consider the insensitivity of her actions, “Next time let your dog out after the early hours of the day, will you? Some people have to sleep and get up in the morning to go to school.”

On ao3 or ff.net or here... (cuz it’s short)

Chloe had never been so livid over something so stupid.

She is generally a relaxed and pretty laid back individual, always have been and hopefully still will be (after this one incident of course), and have always allowed things to slide off her shoulders and not be taken personally, have always smiled away an “it’s fine” and continued on her merry way.

So this proves to be a highly unusual case of her losing her mind, and combined with the fact that it had been over something so stupid, she is now positively vibrating with rage by the time she’s done trying to suppress and ignore the strong but rare emotion.

Like, who the hell allows their stupid dog outside at freaking six in the morning and then not say or do anything when he/she/it starts and then continues barking it’s freaking head off non-stop at something that’s probably completely unjustifiable and not even consider the fact that it might be a high inconvenience and annoyance to the neighbor next door?

She is a freaking med student darn it, and she has a big potentially life changing exam in just a couple hours and she has had enough with the inconsideration and the barking and the suppression of her rare lividity at the expense of herself trying to be a good and reasonable human being.

Which is saying something else, because her neighbor—whomever he or she may be—is certainly not receiving the memo or even trying to reciprocate the gesture as well.

Tightening the knot of the bathrobe at her waist and trying to not growl like the dog just outside her bedroom window, Chloe stomps to her front door and throws it open, and doesn't bother to close it as she continues on her way into her neighbor’s backyard. She knows that her hair’s mussed and her feet’s bare and she’s practically naked under her robe and that her mom would probably freak if she went to greet some stranger in her current state of undress, but she could really not care less as she storms down the walkway at the side of the house that she had recently inherited from her deceased grandparents, her feet landing on cool paved stone and then soft green grass as she reaches the half wall separating her backyard from her neighbor’s.

“Come on, buddy, time to come inside!”

Oh great, now her neighbor decides to do something, when the damage was already well and done and she was already awake and on her way to give her neighbor a piece of her mind.

Her fingers pull at the gate at the corner of the sidewalk, and she swings it open, striding right in, “Hey!”

“Yeah?” Her neighbor’s voice is skeptical and wary and just at the beginnings of being defensive as her eyes lose its spark of surprise and roves over her livid figure.

An eyebrow rises into chocolate brown hair and Chloe briefly notes that her neighbor is adorably a couple inches shorter even though she is still standing behind the threshold, “I hadn’t realized that six in the morning is considered early,” she says, crossing her arms.

Her beagle bounds up to her stop in front of the frowning brunette and barks at her feet, and Chloe tries not to eye at the soft coat of its fur and marvel at the small patch of black on its otherwise white and tan body, “It’s early enough for me to get pissed off when your dog won’t stop barking at whatever it was that it had been barking at and ruin any chance for me to go back to sleep.”

“Well, I’m sorry if it’s such an inconvenience for you that this is the only time that I can let him out before I go to work, and that you hate dogs enough to storm into my backyard in your robe and yell at me for letting him have some air before locking him up for hours on end,” she replies, shifting her weight onto one foot and leaning against the side of her sliding glass door.

Chloe sputters at the assumption and audacity of the short brunette to turn this on to her, “I don’t hate dogs; I was a vet student before I dropped out in favor of medicine!”

“I can’t imagine why.” Her tone is dry and sarcastic as her gaze travels over her robe clad figure once more, and Chloe is certain that her skin had by now turned into a shade of red rivaling that of her hair, for reasons not particular to her burning antagonism.

Before she could open her mouth for her next words however, the beagle at her feet rubs its head on her calves and twirls between her legs, tongue sticking out to lick at her shins in excitement and happiness, tail wagging enough to shake its entire rear end, and Chloe is delightedly distracted. Immediately, a laugh bubbles its way out of her chest and she shuffles her feet, trying to relieve herself of the tickling sensation and momentarily losing her hold onto her irritation.

“Guetta, stop.”

At the two word request, Chloe snaps her head up from the enthusiastic beagle and raises her brows in shock, “Guetta? You named your dog after an artist?”

A flash of interest crosses her neighbor’s face before it dissipates, her expression schooling back into neutral blankness, “Yeah, so what? Is that a problem for you as well?”

The thing about being usually laid back and rarely mad enough to lose her crap in front of a complete stranger is that it only lasts for a split second, and that once it was all done and settled and dealt with, she is back to being her usual serene self, curious about this woman who works at six in the morning and who is sarcastic in the most inopportune of times and who owns an overly energetic beagle and who names it after one of her all time favorite artists in the entire world. So she now bites her lip and steps forward, her fingers fiddling with the clasps of her robe, “Are you kidding? I love David Guetta; his song Titanium is my jam. My lady jam.”

She looks stunned at the sudden change of demeanor and subject and Chloe grins as she watches her arm uncross to run through chocolate curls, steely gaze darting away, “Oh. That’s...nice.”

“Yeah.” They make eye contact yet again, this time with none of the earlier animosity and mockery between them, and Chloe finally lets herself appreciate the angle of her cheekbones, the tattoo on her shoulder, the subtle curve of her nose, the pink glossiness of her lips. Her grin widens into a full on smile when her neighbor’s blank slate of a face cracks into an expression of tentative amusement, and she takes another step forward, toes curling in the grass, about to make another comment about her precise fondness for the song when a jubilant yip rises from her feet.

She had almost forgotten about the dog, about the subject of their less than pleasant meeting and now the subject of their more than promising connection, and she amends it by getting onto her knees and rubbing its face, patting his head and scratching his ears, and she giggles as Guetta barks happily and licks her cheek.

“I’m Chloe, by the way,” she says, pushing her hair out of her face so she can properly look at her, because it'd been only about five minutes since she had known this woman and she can already tell that she is hooked.

“Beca,” the brunette offers, rolling her eyes in fake exasperation as she watches her dog lavish Chloe with attention, not even bothering with calling him off anymore because they both knew that it would be fruitless.

“Awes,” the smile on her face seemed like a permanent fixture, and her serious lack of sleep and previous apprehension about her upcoming medical exam is the last thing on her mind, “Nice to meet you, Beca, and I’m really sorry about yelling at you for waking me up.”

Beca waves away her apology and gives one of her own, “I’m the one who should be sorry about being an inconsiderate jerk who didn’t do anything when this one here,” she nodded to Guetta who blinked innocently up at them, “Won’t stop barking at the mist in the air.”

Chloe coos at the beagle now kissing her neck about being silly before turning back to the short brunette, her appreciation for the reparation mixing with a sudden hope for a chance to make up, “It’s fine, I got over it. Let’s start over?”

Because this time she’s not a sputtering, storm-up-to-her-total-stranger-of-a-neighbor-uncaringly-half-naked mess—well, the storming part at least, the half nakedness is still glaringly obvious and the uncaring is still stubbornly in place—and her neighbor’s really attractive and not a completely insensitive jerkface, and she would now like to make her acquaintance, and then possibly, optimistically, something more, and a redo of their respective first impressions are a necessity of a step for her—them—to reach that goal...

Chloe really wishes that Beca would say yes.

Beca grins and and steps away from the threshold, beckoning for her to go in, “Yeah, lets. Join me for a cup of coffee?”

#bechloe #bechloe fanfic #bechloe fanfiction #bechloe au #bechloe oneshot #pitch perfect #pitch perfect fanfiction #beca x chloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe fluff #neighbors au #mine

51 notes · View notes

kurohoely · 3 years

Text

always (daichi x y/n)

part 3

genre: exes to lovers, slow burn(?) idk how genre works, sfw, daichi!timeskip

cw: sexual harassment wc: 2.2k

a/n: it pains me this part so much :') but i realli like how i wrote this part hehe i hope you do too!! enjoy :D likes and reblogs are highly appreciated :))

part one , part two, part three

Not once you had the heart to block his number, even after you blocked him from all of your social media. You hoped that by leaving this one door open, he will find a way to come back to you, or at least reach out to you again. Your legs were exerting heat, pumping your muscles to make you walk faster so that you can reach your home as soon as possible. With the constant gasping for air, vibrating through your body, you didn’t realize the faint vibration of your phone, lighting up with a notification from daichi <3. Grabbing your keys from your bag, unlocking the door while kicking your sandals off from your feet. You opened your sliding door, letting the spring breeze fill up your atmosphere. What a nice way to cool down your body. You dug your hands into your bag, fumbling to find your phone. Unconsciously, you unlocked your phone without seeing the notifications that popped up, skimming through your apps, and seeing whatever apps had the number badge on them. The last app you scrolled to was your messages. Your heart skipped a beat when you saw the number one on the top corner of the icon. You pressed it, heart pounding, excreting cold sweats from your fingers. There, you saw his message.

“It was nice seeing you at our shop. If you’re free tomorrow, can we catch dinner together?”

Einstein is right, time and space are gravity because you can feel your insides starting to churned then float away, as your time stopped and your spatial awareness came to halt as well. It was as if the universe let this moment freeze for you, to take in whatever you are seeing and experiencing right now. You should’ve listened to what your mind and friends said back then, block him everywhere. Don’t leave a hole for him to come into your life again. You know this is going to hurt either way but you want to be done with it once and for all. You both need proper closure, and not some petty teenager’s love quarrel.

“You too. I’m free tomorrow”

“Great, see you at our shop at 8?”

Daichi replied instantly like he was waiting on his phone for your reply. You don’t want to show too much enthusiasm, especially when things are going to end anyway, so you thumbs-upped his last text, letting him know you agree to his suggestion. You wanted to cringe so badly that Daichi kept referring to the coffee shop as our shop but you couldn’t. In fact, you found it very sweet and a bit romantic. You plopped down onto your bed, creating scripts in your head to all the possible scenarios that could happen between the both of you tomorrow, not forgetting to include her. Be strong y/n, you got this. You have to. You gotta move on.

7:30. You slipped the black silk dress that you wore on your first date with Daichi, just so you can rewrite the memories of this dress, removing bits and pieces of him in your life. You tied your hair into a low ponytail and started making your way to the shop. Upon reaching the shop, you were greeted by Daichi’s figure. It made your heart flutter seeing him dressed up so nicely as well. It gave you proof that it wasn’t a one-sided effort to make the date look like a proper one. A date, huh…

You both sat down at a secluded spot so you can have a more private conversation. Things were too uncertain, both of you prepared for the polar opposite of each other’s expectations. Daichi wanted to start over while you wanted to end everything once and for all. You both placed your order, starting off with some small awkward small talk, trying to lighten up the air. While waiting for the food to come, Daichi mustered up all his courage and started the conversation that you both came for.

“Y/n, I know this is going to sound stupid and crazy coming from me, but I couldn’t help it. I want to know, hell, I need to know. It’s been six months since we broke up but have you ever thought of getting back together?”

You gasped at his audacity to ask you that while he was in a relationship. It never crossed your mind how Daichi could stoop any lower but he just proved you wrong right in your face. You straighten your back, eyes looking straight into his eyes, trying to find any guilt within them. None. You could feel his sincerity. What the hell is going on?

“Daichi, if you want me back just because you have no one, I don't want it. What you want is someone that listens to you - a dumb bitch that listens - as to how you said it. I’ve heard enough for today Daichi. I don’t think I could take anything more than this. Focus on your girl. You can be mean towards me but to the very least I don't want you to be a cheater for her. I came here to get some type of closure with you. Seems like I got it now”

Your tongue worked faster than your brain could even process it. Not enough time to even register and consider how Daichi - or at least you - would feel if someone would throw the exact words to you. Before you knew it, your eyes started to pool. You dashed out from the shop before the tears came pouring down in front of Daichi. You left before you could hurt yourself even more. You know you hurt Daichi but it hurts you more than you anticipated. For once, why couldn’t you follow what your heart really wants, what it has yearned for so long, all this time?

You walked through the main street of your house, the same old usual route. The street was pretty bright, given the new street lamps just got placed along the road but being a woman in this god-forsaken world, you can never be too prepared. You placed your thumb on the circle button of the app the whole time. If you suddenly released it and if you didn’t touch the circle within a few seconds, it will automatically call your emergency contacts. Such a smart thing, you thought to yourself but what you failed to notice was a drunk man starting to close his distance, moving towards you.

You were greeted by the sudden jerk on your shoulder. A drunk man putting his hands around your shoulder, started to massage your arms, feeling your flesh through your jacket. You froze and pushed his hands off, bowing to him and saying sorry that you’re in a hurry. He grabbed your wrist with a force that you know will leave blue marks. You were so scared that he would swing his bottle at you if you tried to fight longer. In all of the days, you were always careful. Your frustration with Daichi made you drop your guard slightly and someone took the chance. You repeatedly asked the drunk man to let you go, lying that your husband is around and going to pick up you soon. He inches his face in closer, opening his mouth as if wanting to slobber you whole. You felt disgusted by the strong pungent smell of alcohol and just wished Daichi was here. Wishing you had at least someone to walk you home. Why the world was so cruel to you lately. Why can't you ever feel safe and peacefully enjoy this week?

“Y/N!”

Daichi shoved the man aside, took your hand, and started to run. You followed his steps as best as you could. After Daichi deemed it was safe enough, he stopped. Huff and puffs, hands still interlocked with each other.

“Are you okay!? Thank God I made it in time. Oh my God. I shouldn’t have let you walk alone in the night. Are you hurt anywhere?”

Before you could even answer, tears gushed down your cheeks. You wailed and sobbed your heart out. You placed your head into Daichi’s chest, clasping his shirt to find any form of comfort. Maybe this was something that needed to happen for you to be fully open and vulnerable with Daichi. He hugged you tightly, hushing sweet nothings into your ears. It's not that you were crying about what just happened, it's more like the mere thought of Daichi in that situation makes you cry your heart out. Even when your life was threatened, you still managed to remember Daichi. But is this the right choice? Daichi rubs your shoulders gently.

“Come on, let's get you back home”

He opened your apartment’s door, guiding you to sit down on the couch. He went into your bedroom and wrapped a blanket over your body. He placed the takeouts on the kitchen counter, making his way to make some tea to calm you down. You sit down on the couch, hugging your knees. Daichi plopped down, folded one of his legs, and faced his body to you. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his face, so grabbed your mug and hugged your fingers around it.

“How come you were there?”

“I chased you after you left. I think we have some misunderstanding so I wanted to go to your house and talk again. I’m so glad that I followed you, even though it was a bit late... I’m sorry”

You finally look at Daichi. Concerned, fear, disappointment painted clearly across his face. Before you could open your mouth, he continued.

“Y/n, I'm not sure why you kept saying ‘her’ and ‘my girl’ repeatedly so I tried to trace back to the first meeting. I saw you in the lobby and by that time, I was with my twin cousin. She just got this job recently and she asked me to come for lunch and show me around. I swear she's family and nothing more.”

How is it that Daichi never fails to see through you, even if it took him a bit of time? You covered your face with your mug. Heat started rising up your cheeks and up to your ears. It's getting really hot and it’s not coming from the blanket. So much for wanting to act like a grown-up and not having some petty love quarrel. You almost ended your only chance of getting back together by some childish assumptions. Oh, how you wish the earth could swallow you whole and never let you out. Daichi tucked your hair back to your ears, gently pulling your hands into his, placing them in between his.

“Hey, was that the reason you left the shop? I’m hurt y/n”

A sprinkle of sarcasm was woven into his words. You know it but you can't help that as if a whole block of weight slipped through your shoulders as you sighed into relief. He squeezed your hands firmer, signaling things are going to get even more serious.

“Y/n, I want you. I still love you. I never stopped loving you. When you left, I couldn't feel anything. I eat and sleep just because I have to. It kept me alive. Remember when we met at our shop? That was the first time I started running again, picking up my routine back. I want our relationship to work. I want us to work.”

“Daichi, I’m scared to start again. I hate that I keep contradicting myself. I don't want anything with you but when I got caught by that man, all I could think was you”

“I know y/n. I’m sorry that you have to go through that but I want to give us another chance if you let me. I know I ended it badly but I feel like I rushed to a decision that I didn't even want. If there's still some love left inside you, please let me in again. Please let me make us work.”

You squeezed Daichi’s hands, finding some strength that you could borrow from him. You pushed his arms and placed them over your shoulders, placing your head against his chest, snuggling soundly in his embrace. You took a deep breath, inhaling his scent, mixed with his musky perfume. The scent of home.

“Okay, Daichi. I want us to start again. I still love you. I will always love you”

He kissed your hairline, pulling your body flushed into his. His hug tightened quickly as if you’re going to go away if he held any looser. You chuckled as you pat his arms, reassuring him that you won't leave him. You straightened up your body and kissed his cheeks. Pink tint painted across Daichi's nose and cheeks.

“Do you wanna stay here for the night? It's already late and it's the weekend tomorrow anyways, if you don't have any work that is”

“I would love to”

Daichi stood up and took your hand, tugging your body towards your bedroom. He laid you down first before he placed himself beside you, draping his arms around your waist, foreheads touching each other. You both looked into each other eyes, finally seeing the love that was long hidden by other emotions.

“Good night Daichi”

You snuggled into his chest, listening to his heartbeat as if it was your lullaby for tonight. He stared at you before he moved his lips to kiss the crown of your head, whispering the words that you longed for.

“Good night sweetheart. I love you. Forever and always”

30 notes · View notes

im-not-looking-for-forgiveness · 4 years

Note

Anything with John or Tommy. Filth is good. Fluff is too!

Safety - John Shelby x Reader

Possible TW: assault, violence, graphic depictions

A/N: Okay so I just realized I haven't written a single goddamn John Shelby request on this wHOLE BLOG????? I know there's a need for smut out there, but I'm allowed to go fluffy for this one and I think my first one of our sweet John has to be just that!

Taglist: @sweetiekokkiri @haphazardhufflepuff @tarafaithe @mrsstevenbuchananstark @imagine-richards @hxnky-cat

*****

"Hey."

You rolled your eyes at your drink before looking up. At least it wouldn't hit on you.

"I'm not interested."

"All I said was hey. Give me a chance!" the man, sloshing his booze all over the counter, sat down hard on the stool beside you.

"I'm not interested." you repeated, starting a dangerous game by then looking away from him.

You were a woman alone at the bar and had been turning down men for a while now as you just tried to forget your past. You didn't think it was some extraordinary beauty you had, but rather it was that the men of Birmingham had become more brazen with their lack of control.

"You like to play hard to get, huh? I bet those other guys didn't see that in you, did they? Come on, a woman only sits at a bar alone when she wants a man to bring her home." he continued as if you'd said nothing, and moved into your personal space.

His hand went to your knee, and you immediately had to restrain the urge to vomit. Of the men who'd come on to you tonight, he was the first one to touch you that inappropriately. You shoved his hand away, and then wiped yours on your skirt. Anger began to boil in your chest.

"I said no. If you touch me again, you'll regret it." you snapped, hand subconsciously sliding to your gin glass.

"You like it." he slurred, grinning. The man grabbed the back of your head as if to force you to kiss him.

You immediately slammed the glass into his head before his mouth could get anywhere near yours, spraying glass everywhere and cutting your hand. Body racing with adrenaline and fear, you jumped off the stool and ran for the doors.

"Fuck!" you got out, pushing open the gilded door of The Garrison and going out into the cool night. The crisp air did nothing to ease your panic or the pain in your palm.

"Hey!" the creep yelled furiously behind you. Blood was running down his cheek, which gave you a small kick of satisfaction.

"Leave me alone!" you yelled back, placing all your bets on a group of well dressed men standing around a Bentley. Last time you ran from a man like him, you had never stopped running.

"You just came outta the Garrison?" the tallest of the three asked. He ran the back of his hand over his mouth and mustache and then cracked his knuckles.

"Here we go." the one with his hat pulled low muttered.

Recognition blossomed in your head. These were the infamous Shelby brothers. What were their names again?

"Yes. He tried to kiss me so I broke a glass over his head." you got out, breathless. You shook your hand as if it would help ease the pain. It just splattered more blood onto the gravel.

"You're gonna let her come with me if you know what's good for you." the asshole from the bar growled, pulling out a knife as he finally got near.

"Arthur." the man still leaning against the car warned as the taller brother inched forward.

"She's my date. We just had a disagreement is all. She's coming with me." the man continued, lunging forward and grabbing you by the arm. You yelped in pain as his fingers pressed hard enough to bruise.

Before anyone else could move, he held the blade to your neck. He ordered, "Stay back. I don't want trouble with you lot."

"You're talking to the Peaky fuckin' Blinders." the third man finally spoke up. He took the toothpick from the corner of his mouth and flicked it away. In the next moment, he pulled a gun and cocked it.

"You can't shoot me fast enough to save her." the man sneered, shifting so his body was behind yours and out of the line of fire. You pulled futilely at his arm to try and keep the knife away.

Anger resurfacing at the sheer audacity this man had, you realized that only you could get yourself out of this. The Blinders had been a good gamble, your only gamble, but now it wasn't going to pay off. You didn't want to run any more. At least, not from him.

With one hand, you shoved his arm as hard as you could. With the other, you reached behind you and mashed your fingers against the cuts you'd made on his face.

He started screaming. The gun went off. You were falling.

"No." you rasped out, curling up as soon as you hit the gravel. You pressed a hand to your side and it came away sticky with blood.

The loud thudding you thought was in your head was in fact Arthur and the third brother kicking the shit out of your attacker. You were vaguely aware that the quiet one was at your side.

"I'll bring her to the hospital. Deal with him." the man ordered, gently pulling you up.

You pleaded, "No! No hospital. Please! He'll find me."

"Alright. John, give me a hand. We're bringing her inside." he corrected.

The one called John immediately broke away and scooped you into his arms. You whimpered into his shoulder, "You shot me."

He snorted, but said nothing as he carried you right back inside the Garrison. You groaned as every step pulled on your wound. Your fingers clutched hard at his previously pristine suit jacket. Knowing your luck, you'd probably have to pay him for it if you survived this night.

Suddenly, you found yourself lying flat on a table in some back room. What the hell? Did you black out?

"Hey! Stay awake, alright? What's your name?" the brother whose name you didn't know was trying to hold your attention. His hat had come off at some point and you were struck by how blue his eyes were.

"Y/N." you said, realizing he was expecting you to answer.

"Alright, Y/N, you're going to talk to John while I sew you shut. How does that sound?" he told you, switching places with his brother.

You nodded as he went to get thread and a needle, "Okay."

"Hello, lovely. I'm John." the man said, giving you a small smile. You weren't sure if it was the pain driving you crazy, but he seemed to be the most beautiful man you'd ever seen. Maybe you'd already died?

"You shot me." you got out again, figuring you couldn't be dead if you were in this much pain.

He smirked as he propped you up slightly, "Come on, I'm a better shot than that. The fucker just stuck you on the way down. Don't worry, it's not that deep. And he missed anything important."

"Except for me." you grumbled, trembling as John put a bottle to your lips and had you drink. He laughed as you coughed on whatever booze was in the bottle, and laid you back down.

"This is going to hurt. Unfortunately we don't have any morphine, so try not to pass out." the unnamed brother spoke up, taking the alcohol from John.

John pressed a roll of cloth between your teeth, "Bite down on this. Focus on me, sweetheart. It'll only take a minute but it'll hurt like hell. Tommy is good at this sort of thing, so don't you worry."

At least he was honest. As soon as the alcohol touched the wound, a scream erupted from your throat. You bit down as hard as you could on the cloth as tears sprung to your eyes.

"Hey, look at me. When this is all over, I'll buy you a proper drink alright? No one like that will ever come near you again if you're seen with me. Okay? Does that sound nice?" John spoke gently, taking your good hand in his.

You nodded tearfully as Tommy tediously stitched you up. You latched onto what he said about no man coming near you like that again. That was all you ever wanted.

Sooner than you hoped, Tommy was done. Your side still burned, but it seemed to be leveling out. Maybe you'd make it after all.

"When you can get up, drinks are on the house. I'm sorry you had this experience in our pub." Tommy said, cleaning up the supplies he'd used.

"Thanks. I owe you a debt, now." you told him sincerely, knowing he didn't have to do this. He could have taken you to a hospital anyway, despite your wishes.

He nodded, then left the room.

"Why didn't you want to go to the hospital?" John asked curiously, shedding his jacket. He grabbed fresh gauze and then gestured for your hand.

Something told you to trust him. It was probably delirium, but you wanted to think it was fate. You chose not to run for the first time, and that had to mean something.

You let him take your hand in his, "The first boyfriend I ever had became my stalker. He wouldn't leave me alone even after I dumped his ass, so I've been on the run since. Moved from my whole life in America just to be rid of him. I know he probably didn't think to look for me outside the country, but I can't risk it."

John just listened intently as he wrapped your hand, and you watched his jaw clench in anger. Some distant part of your mind wanted to trace his jaw with your fingers.

"I meant what I said."

"About what?"

"You stick with me, and you'll be safe from men like them. I know what it's like to never relax." he admitted, finishing with your hand. He didn't let go.

For once, you weren't afraid of the unknown. For once, you felt a spark of hope. A man was offering you solace instead of fear. You asked, "You do?"

"Yeah. Us Shelbys are always at war with someone." he said, smirking.

You gently put your fingers through his as you thought of the reputation the Peaky Blinders had, "Sounds dangerous."

"Absolutely."

"How would I know you could keep me safe?" you wondered. Maybe to fend off a predator, you had to be a bigger one. A stronger one, with a pack.

"Because we're the Peaky Blinders. No one messes with us unless we give 'em permission." he told you, his chin tilting up with pride.

"I like the sound of that." you told him, a weak smile coming onto your face for the first time in years.

"Good. Now, get some rest. We'll tell Tommy tomorrow that you're staying. We could always use some help in the office, anyway. Can't say no to that." he said, placing his jacket over you for some warmth.

"Will you stay?" you wondered, trying not to sound as desperate as you felt.

He pulled up a chair, "Yeah. Yeah, I will. Johnny's got you."

You finally drifted off to sleep. And despite having been stabbed, you slept better than you had in years.

#john shelby #john shelby x reader #tommy shelby #thomas shelby #arthur shelby #the garrison #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinders #request #imagine

135 notes · View notes

forever-rogue · 4 years

Text

Honey & Velvet - Part 7

A/N: You’re getting some...relief here, but there’s more to come if you know what I mean ;) enjoy. If you’d like to be tagged, please let me know, and as always, feedback and comments are always welcome! xx

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x Reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: slight language, and mature/explicit content (so 18+ only friends - also as an additional warning contains some roughness and crude language)

MASTERLIST

»»————-　♡　————-««

Maxwell stared at you with such an intensity that left your knees weak and a fire blooming throughout your belly. Surely, you were about to go mad, just having him standing there and watching you, practically undressing with those dark, honeyed eyes. Unable to stand the tension any longer, you put your hands on either side of his face and crashed your lips back onto his. His hands found purchase on your hips as he pulled you close and left you take the lead. You were loathe to let go, to finally separate from him, only doing so when you were sure you might pass out from lack of oxygen.

"Are you going to take me home then?" you tugged on his tie lightly, attempting to give him your most innocent eyes. When you had first met him, you thought you'd sooner throw him through the window of your office, but here you were, propositioning him. You were like putty in his hands, ready to almost beg him to have sex with you. A little bit of you was angry with yourself - angry for giving into a man that you claimed you hated, angry for letting any man take control of your thoughts, angry for falling for him when you swore you wouldn't.

"Come on," he said after a small eternity, giving your lips one last kiss. He was...shockingly gentle and soft as he took he held out his hand for you to take. There was the tiniest sliver of hesitation before you slipped your hand in his and let him take the lead. He was silent, guiding you effortlessly through the people milling about the gala. A few glances were shot your way, unarguably because of the dress you were wearing; part of you had thought you’d feel uncomfortable, but a different part of you was almost...exhilarated by how people watched the two of you. Maxwell seemed to sense your slight hesitation, only offering a small shrug in response and whispering, “let them stare, let them say whatever they want.”

His blasé statement only served to make you feel more bold and you held your head up high as you left the building and resurfaced into the cool evening air. Sucking in a long breath, you tried to steady yourself from all the thoughts swimming in your mind. Was this finally it?

Maxwell slipped off his luxe suit jacket and draped it around your shoulders when he noticed you shivering. You offered him a thankful smile but he just returned your sentiment with a nod as the valet brought his town car around, opening the door to usher you inside. It was just as fancy as you thought it would be, simple but expensive, just as seemingly he was. You slid in and got comfortable, and he followed suit, sitting close to you, but leaving a small distance. It was maybe a few inches, but something about it made it feel like a gaping chasm. He knee was inclined towards you, but his body was angled straight ahead, eyes appearing to be concentrated anywhere but you.

Your mind immediately kicked into overdrive as you tried to process what was going on. Maybe he was mad? Maybe he was trying to contain himself? Or...he perhaps he had completely changed his mind within the span of a few minutes. But you had a feeling that wasn’t it. Tempting as it was to grab him and slide into his lap, you refrained, instead opting to stare out the window at the passing scenery as you headed towards your apartment. Out of the corner of your eye, you slowly spied his expression softening, and his large, warm hand made its way onto your thigh. It was an almost absentminded gesture as he traced aimless shapes and patterns onto your delicate skin, bringing a small smile to your face.

When you arrived at your building, you slowly climbed out of the car and waited to see what he would next. Almost as if it was a herculean effort, he followed you without a word, letting you show him the way to your apartment. The aging elevator slowly arrived, creaking open as you stepped inside, Maxwell right by your side. Leaning against the cool metal, you let out a heavy sigh as you studied his profile. He was handsome, you had come to admit, even if it was not so in the traditional way. He had deep set, but warm, honeyed eyes, light lines around them, mostly likely from years of frowning and furrowing too much. His nose was his most prominent feature, along with his full lips; lips that had already proven themselves more than capable of eliciting a fair share of moans from you. He was different - but in the best ways possible.

“If you stare any harder, you’re going to burn a hole in my face,” he sounded bemused and it worked to ease your tension ever so slightly, “penny for your thoughts?”

“I’m kind of wondering why you’re not kissing me right now, or even sparing me a glance,” you mused, fingers drumming along the cool metal of the handrail. He finally looked at you and shrugged as though it was so obvious. God, that little smirk would be the death of you.

“You’re such an impatient, needy little thing, aren’t you?” he cocked his head to the side, inspecting you closely. You subconsciously squeezed your legs together as his warm timber sent a spark throughout your body. You shrugged lightly as you tried to play it cool. But he was able to easily see through your facade as he grabbed you, hands on either side of your face as he brought his lips to yours. They were hungry, needy kisses, leaving you heated from within, the only bit of coolness were the rings on his fingers. Before you could get more involved into the kiss, the elevator sounded with a shrill ding and the doors opened.

Maxwell let go of you all too quickly and a soft sigh of annoyance let your lips. Foiled, yet again. Beckoning for him to follow, you all but sprinted back towards your apartment and he followed with long, easy strides. He made everything seem so effortlessly, like no thought was involved, but you both knew each move, each word was extremely calculated.

Unlocking the door proved to be a challenge as your hands trembled slightly in anticipation and nerves. You felt more like a giddy school girl rather than a grown woman. Once you finally managed to unlock it and swing it open, you stepped inside, kicking off your heels and waiting for him to follow. But...he didn’t.

“Max?” your voice sounded sad, weak...pathetic even. Your lips turned into a pout as you came to the heartbreaking conclusion that he wasn’t going to be following you in, “what’s wrong? I thought you wanted....this?”

He rocked back and forth on his heels for a moment, clearly picking and choosing his words with care. Eventually, after a few beats of tense silence, he came to the threshold and leaned against the door, “you are...something else. And yes...I do want this just as much as you, trust me. It seems you have managed to consume every single of thoughts with ease. I thought that I must surely be going mad. And given our previous encounters...I do not want you to rush into anything because you feel the need to win or whatever you want to deem it.”

“You...you’re rejecting me?” your mouth hung open as you stared at him in confused. The sheer audacity that this man possessed was beyond you, “you came all this way to just drop me off and leave?”

“Precisely,” he nodded as you tugged off his jacket and tossed it at him in a huff of anger, “I wanted to make sure you got home safely.”

“You led me on!” you were almost shouting at this point, knowing that probably sounded like a spoiled child more than anything else, “I thought...”

“What you thought and what I said are two different things,” he insisted, giving a wicked little smile; he was clearly pleased with himself, “I’m a lot of things, but I wouldn’t take advantage of a woman who was overcome with desire, just because I can. If you want this, you need to be sure.”

“I am sure,” you insisted, a falter to your voice at his seemingly innocent comments. but also ominous words.

“Are you?” he reached over and ghosted a few long fingers along your cheek before grabbing your face roughly and giving you a dark eyed stare. His already dark eyes were almost black, his pupils almost completely blown out. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy getting a little manhandled, “because once you make that decision, there is no going back.”

Your chest rose and fell as his words hit you like a ton of bricks. You wondered just exactly what was hiding under that vanilla exterior. He parted your lips with his hand, tracing his thumb along your bottom lip, earning a small mewl from you as a dark laugh escaped his own.

He pulled back and shook his head at you, leaving you astounded and more turned on than you cared to admit. You looked at him with wide eyes as he slipped his jacket back on, “Max...”

“I’m glad you’re home safe this evening,” he was back to being as sweet as honey just like that, “think on things. You know where to find me.”

You wished you could find something smart or witty to retort with, and make him beg you for it, but instead you stood there, watching him walk away. Before he got back onto the elevator, he turned and gave you a small smile. acting as if nothing had even happened. How he could be so blasé was beyond you, and it was infuriating. Here you were, willing to give yourself to him, finally, but he wasn’t willing to take it. But you were still playing his little game...maybe he had the upper hand after all.

Quickly slamming the door, making sure he was able to hear you, you locked it and leaned against it, trying to cool off and contain your racing heart and mind. Everything suddenly felt like too much and not enough at the same, and you tugged off the dress, letting it slip to the floor with a delicate thud, leaving you in only your underwear. You felt just too hot and warm, and knew exactly what was going to give you the release you need.

Stepping into the bathroom, you turned on the shower and let the water only run lukewarm before stripping off your bra and soaked panties. Slipping under the warm water, you let it cool you off ever so lightly as you tried to focus on something other than Maxwell. Grabbing your body wash, you gathered a liberal amount and spread it over your body, making sure to reach every part of you. As you washed your belly, waist, and top of your thighs, the tingling of your core did not subside and you tried your best to control yourself.

But with each pass, you let your hand drift closer and closer to your center, your resolved washing away down the drain along with the soap. Debating with yourself for a few moments you quietly decided fuck it. Everything else had fallen apart today, might as well let yourself experience some sort of please.

Leaning against the cool tile wall as you started to touch yourself, you closed your eyes, not even bothering to hold back your whimpers and moans. It was the name that was on the edge of your lips that you wished wouldn’t come out, but you knew it was a war already long lost. As you brought yourself closer and closer to the edge of bliss, a feat which did not take long by any means, all you could picture was Maxwell there with you, his large hand between your legs, rather than yours. It didn’t take much after that until you came, a small, soft Maxwell spilling from your mouth.

»»————-　♡　————-««

By the time the new week rolled around, you’d spent all weekend thinking about your next move. Basically spending all weekend thinking about Maxwell Lord. Gods, he was infuriating, but ever since you’d gotten a taste, you’d just needed more, more, more.

You’d gone into work and informed Adina that you’d be leaving around lunch for the day, and she was not lost to the little glint in your life. Even if she didn’t know, she knew. But she wasn’t going to question you.

The morning hours ticked by excruciatingly slowly, making it hard to focus and making you question your plan. Maybe it was too rash...too bold, even for the likes of both of you. But no. You weren’t going to back anymore, especially not after what happened on Friday night. You were all in.

Just before leaving, you quickly changed into the...outfit you had picked, giving yourself the once over in the mirror before pulling your overcoat on. Reaching into your desk drawer, you pulled out the golden bullet lipstick, and painted your lips in your favorite shade of crimson. It was a measure that would, hopefully, embolden you in your endeavor. Either this would be a horrible mistake or a brilliant idea with an ideal outcome. Slipping on the heels you’d been gifted from Maxwell, you left your office for the day and onto your little...fun.

Making sure no one would easily spy you, you stalked to Maxwell’s office, shooting furtive glances around every which way. Spotting his assistant and praying she wouldn’t pry too much, you gave her a soft smile as you approached her desk. She looked up at you before turning her attention back to her paperwork, but quick did a double take when she recognized you, swallowing the lump in her throat, she attempted to give you a smile back.

“Hi,” you leaned over her desk and kept your voice low as she seemed to cower with nerves. If you had this affect on her, you could only imagine how Maxwell made her feel, “I think you know who I am...and I’m asking, purely for myself, is Maxwell in his office?”

“N-no,” she stuttered, pulling his schedule and studying it closely, “he’s in a meeting for a while longer.”

Annoyed for only a brief moment, you realized this might even be better, “can you please let me into his office? I have something that might be of...great interest to him.”

“No one’s supposed to go in there without-”

“I don’t think he’ll have a problem with it,” you insisted firmly, “I just want to give him a little surprise, surely you can help a girl out?”

“If he’s mad...I might get in trouble,” she already sounded defeated as she looked at you with a nervous expression, but you just shook your head in what you hoped was a reassuring manner, “I wouldn’t want to make Mr. Lord upset.”

“I promise you that you will not get in trouble and nothing will happen,” glancing between her and the door, you placed an easy, soft smile on your face, “if he gets even the tiniest bit annoyed, I will make sure he knows it was all me. Please?”

“Yes,” she stood up and walked over to his door, unlocking it quickly and stepping aside to let you in. Before she could shut the door and go back to her desk, you put your hand under her chin softly, giving her a gentle touch.

“It will be okay,” you promised, “just lock the door and let him figure things out on his own.”

She nodded before closing the door, and you could hear her locking it once again. Taking a turn about the room, you studied everything intently; there wasn’t anything super personal in the entirety of the office, but you could tell that his was his personal sanctuary. A few personal items were scattered on his desk, but otherwise it was all business, just like him.

Sliding down into his desk chair and perching your legs on the desk, you started to go through his drawers. You weren’t going to snoop that much, but just wanted to get a taste. When you saw the small stack of monogrammed handkerchiefs, and the golden lipstick bullet identical to yours, a wicked grin spread across your face. Perhaps his resolve wasn’t as strong as he liked to think after all.

Throwing off your coat and tossing it onto one of the chairs across the desk, you decided you would sit right there and wait for him, hoping he wouldn’t be gone for too much longer.

Just before you could get terribly bored, you heard the sound of approaching footsteps and Maxwell’s distinctive voice. The coil in your belly tightened as you grew almost giddy in anticipation. But you did your best to keep a cool exterior, leaning back and keeping your feet up. He soon had the door unlocked and stepped, his eyes widening at the sight of you. To say he was surprised was an understatement. He slammed the door and strode over to you, his dark eyes never leaving yours.

“Y/N,” his voice was low and dangerous as he stood in front his desk, eyes shamelessly raking over every inch of you, just like you had hoped for, “what are you doing?”

You let out a soft laugh as innocently gestured to the black velvet lingerie you were currently sporting. Just like you had always known, there was something about a black and velvet ensemble that drove almost any man wild, “I just came to surprise you.”

“Consider me surprised,” he sucked in a breath as you kicked off the heels and let them fall to the floor, “what are you playing at? Trying to get a rouse out of me?”

You stood up slowly, making it a point to stretch so he could see the swell of your breasts. You walked around to face him, experiencing only a beat of hesitation as he seemed to loom over you, “no...sir. I just came here to tell you that I’ve been thinking over your proposition.”

“Have you?” he mused as he stared you down; you could see his hand twitching slightly as he tried to keep from touching you then and there. You took the control away from him, even for the moment as you grabbed his hand and placed it on the juncture of your neck and shoulder, dragging his thumb to the hollow of your throat, “and to what conclusion have you come to then?”

“I think you can figure out that much for yourself,” you insisted as you tilted your head back slightly, encouraging him to touch press lightly on your throat. You just knew it was taking every bit of willpower he possessed in order to keep from taking you that moment, but he showed restraint.

“Need to hear it from you,” he insisted as his voice cracked lightly, his gaze trained, rather pointedly, on your face as leaned further into his touch.

“I’m all in,” you promised, shifting your gaze so you were directly facing him. His eyes flickered for just a moment before a wicked grin crossed his features. The sheep has come for slaughter, he thought to himself, finally.

“Get on your knees,” if it had been any other man in the world, you would have told them then and there that they could fall into a ditch and die, but something about the way Maxwell commanded you set off that fire in your belly, “now.”

He removed his hand from your throat and you slowly, almost painfully so, got on your knees, at the perfect height to meet his cock. His hard on was already straining against his trousers. You looked up at him with wide doe eyes as you reached for the waistband of his trousers. Undoing the button and fly languidly, you made sure your eyes never left his - if you hadn’t know before that they were warm brown, you’d swear they were inky black.

His pants pooled at his feet, leaving him in only underwear - unsurprisingly a pair of briefs. They were soft as silk, and perhaps they were, knowing him, and you couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight at greeted you. He was...not lacking in that department, that was for sure. Not that you had any doubts about that; there was something about him that exuded big dick energy, despite his crass attitude.

Trailing your hands on his thighs, you let your nails rake over his warm skin before pressing a kiss to his hips. It was a slow, simple thing, enough to wind him up, causing him to weave his hands into your hair. You took a moment to admire your handiwork, two brilliant red lip prints on his soft, tanned skin. Hooking your fingers in the waistband of his briefs, you slowly pulled them down his thick, toned legs. Maxwell hissed lightly in relief as his hard cock sprung free, relieving some of uncomfortable tension.

"Hmmm," you practically purred at the sight of his hard cock, flushed an angry red and leaking already. You sighed contently before spitting in your hand and taking his length and slowly stroking him, "just as wonderful as I imagined."

Maxwell's pupils were completely blown with lust as he watched you, his grip on your hair tightening almost painfully. It was a pleasurable pull and tug, basically running right down to your core, "you have no idea how many times I've imagined you on your knees for me."

"Yeah?" you feigned innocence as you continued to work him, leaning your head against his thigh, your mouth close to his cock, but not close enough. He let out a small moan as you kissed his delicate skin, "tell me what you want, Maxwell....sir."

Something about you calling him sir seemed to spur him on, a note that you would have to remember for later. He yanked you back for a moment, eyes burning into yours, "open those pretty lips for me. You’re so fond of using that big mouth anyways.”

You were getting desperately needy for him, and wanted to touch yourself, but your hands had found purchase on his hips. There was a deep feeling within you that he would get annoyed should you dare to let a hand wander between your legs. While that was a tempting idea, you decided to save that for another time. Right now you really, deeply, just wanted to see what he had in store for you.

Opening your mouth wide enough for him to put his cock in, a small moan of satisfaction left as the warmth of your mouth surrounded him. He was large - and you had to wrap your hand around his base for what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You'd had plenty of experience throughout the years...but this was a different experience.

Bobbing your head up and down, you were purposeful in your movements, not loading back any sounds. The vibrations set him off and he started to thrust his hips slightly. His eyes were closed and brow furrowed in concentration; while he might have been in control, you had a hold over him.

Gently tracing patterns and shapes into his bronze skin, you moved to meet his thrusts. The crimson color from your lips was painting his cock and surrounding skin. You grinned around him like the Cheshire cat as his hands firmly gripped your hair and he started to push you down on his cock. You gagged slightly around him, spit starting to run out of your mouth and dripping down your chin as tears pricked at the corner of your eyes. While it was a compromising situation and might have been otherwise embarrassing, you experienced nothing but sheer satisfaction in the that moment.

Balancing yourself on his legs, you decided to let him use you however he wanted; and so he did. He was not gentle and he was not a sweet talker, but the closer and closer he got to reaching his bliss, the less he cared. He was vocal, grunting and making sounds with reckless abandon; anyone walking by could have easily heard what was going within the four corners of his office. Not that he ever cared before when he’d have his secretaries in there, and he certainly did not care now.

The coil in your belly threatened to snap when you felt him start to twitch withing your move, as he rapidly approached his release. You wondered briefly were he would cum, if it was in your mouth, or perhaps he’d like the power men often experienced as they released onto a woman’s face or breasts. He was a wild card, and it really could have been anywhere.

Then - just before he finished, he roughly forced you back, pulling you off of his cock. A small sound of disappointment at the loss left your lips as you got up at him in surprise. An expression you couldn’t quite explain was etched all over his face as he observed you in your current state.

“You really are something else,” a small hint of admiration colored his tone as you pulled to your feet, his grip slightly more benign than before. He grabbed your chin and studied the mess of spit and lipstick, “you are the epitome of perfection.”

For some reason, a slight blush crept into your cheeks as you reveled in his praise. At first you had wondered why he had decided not to cum then and there, but you came to realize that he had some other sort of plan; he was not yet finished with you. His placed his hands on your shoulders, letting his fingers slide under the straps of the lacy lingerie and pulling it down slowly. And you let him - you wanted him, desperately, to take you.

“Please,” your voice was but a mere, small whimper as you put your hands on top of his, “Maxwell.”

“Don’t worry, my sweet little brat,” his voice was all consuming and the only thing you were aware of as he peeled the lingerie down your torso and exposed your breasts, “I am far from done with you. You are going to know who you belong to.”

“Is that a threat?” you found your voice suddenly, unable to stop yourself from giving a bit of sass. That was, after all, one of the many reasons, he had been so taken with you in the first place.

“It’s a promise.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

Permanent Taglist: @jamesbarnesappreciationsociety @yourealegendroger @thesecondlastjedi @bitemerog @rogernroll @secretsweetscollectionblog @sheridans-dynamos @dinkiplier @starrystarrybabe @onexlittlespark @benhardyseyes @marvelstuck @whenthe-smokeisinyoureyes @wonderwich @a-kind-of-magik @lv7867 @itissnowingandimstuckinside @dessert-hardy @rogertaylors-lipgloss @rogerfxckingtaylor @queenbbarnes @drowseoftaylor @persephonesnebula @mamaskillerqueen @theimpossiblehologramtree @loveandbeloved29 @meddows-rose @onceitbubbles @wonderwoman292 @moondustmemories @spacedustmazzello @queenlover05 @ah-callie @blushingwueen @thisis-theway @el-lizzie @rosetophighlander @rae-gar-targaryen @lavenderl3mons @hiscyarika @readsalot73 @huliabitch @ollyoxenfrees @coffeeandtodd @beepbeepsephy @gooddaykate @scarlettwitcher @nerdyknightwritersblog @choicesarcade @arrowswithwifi @everythingaboutnothingstuff

Max Taglist: @pedrosdoll @pascalisperfect @cosmo-bear @halefirewarrior @irishleesh93 @beskars @nadia-rosea @longitud-de-onda @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa @thesadvampire @thesadvampire @choicesarcade @avengingangelsoulofmusic @24kgolden @hystericalmedicine @whiskeyxinxaxteacup @ladamari68 @jawabear @bonkybaaarnes @sirianfromsixties @kllroi4k @lady-tano

#maxwell lord #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord x you #max lord #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #ww84 #ww84 fanfiction

264 notes · View notes

hamster-damn · 4 years

Text

Overture

Ikemen Vampire: Mozart / MC

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2690

Summary: Steam in the music room w a touch of comedy our 2nd favorite tandem, the English writer and the Japanese poet!

FIRST FIC ALERT . Its my first time writing any fics... And anything smutty for that matter.

I had a ton of fun writing this!!!

Do let me know if it is o k a y or if it needs improvement. ✌🏻🥴

Finally, her last chore of the day: deliver Isaac’s midnight snacks.

As she climbed the stairs to deliver Isaac’s sandwich and blanc, she heard a faint piano melody coming from the other end of the hall: Mozart’s music room. It was slow, light, and performed with enviable evenness- fit for a slow dance under the stars. ‘I might as well bring him some snacks too’ she thought.

Moments later, she came back from the kitchen with a box of chocolates, 2 cups of freshly brewed coffee, and a vial of rouge.

The hall was silent, with light leaking from the slightly opened door of the music room,

“Wolf, I brought some snacks”, she called out before pushing the door open to enter the room.

The windows were open, and the curtains were fully tucked to the sides. The cool evening breeze brushing into the room, and the light from the chandelier subtly illuminating the pristine white and gold grand piano.

She placed the tray on the nearby table and glanced again around the room, he was nowhere in sight.

She approached the piano and placed a hand on the keys, gliding slowly upon the tips of her fingers. ’I missed this’

Being a former pianist herself, she had adored this instrument since the first time she laid eyes on it. Gorgeous and white, oh how she wished she had the same one back home.

She turned to the door, still no Mozart.

'It wouldn’t hurt to play, I guess. I just need to keep it low.’ she thought before propping herself on the bench. Gasping at the full view of the beautiful instrument.

She took a breath. Letting muscle memory take the lead, she started playing a favorite of hers, Chopin’s Nocturne - op.9 no.2 in EbM.

Pianissimo. Pianissimo.

Just as Mozart left Jean’s quarters, he heard a faint piano melody. He frowned, baffled by the audacity and stupidity, ‘Who in his right mind - even left the door wide open.’

But as the music grew, so did his curiosity. This music wasn’t from his own composition.

Pianissimo. Pianissimo.

Despite the constant reminder to herself, she eventually lost herself in the piece. Emotion poured as she played, ever so slightly changing the dynamics of the piece to her liking. The world around her disappeared.

Mozart was by the door, surprised by the sight of his love on the keys,

‘She can play?’ He had so many questions.

He walked past behind her until he got to the seats. Nothing. She was fully immersed in the music.

So he sat there, enthralled by both the music and the view.

Her fingers danced on the keys. Soon enough, the melancholic melody filled the room and seeped to the hallway. She finally reached the last chord. The last note.

She lifted her hands from the keys and rested them to the side, anchoring herself to the seat. She sighed. A soft smile painted her lips. Contented and relaxed on the bench.

‘Oh, did it feel good to play again.’

“Your cadenza could use more practice. You’re dragging, but good, nonetheless.” an insult from an all-to-familiar voice broke the silence, sending a chill down her spine. She turned in her seat, surprised.

“Wolf! H-how long have you been-” eyes wide, she found Mozart, legs crossed, seated by the table with a cup of coffee in hand,

“Quite some time now.” He said as he quirked an eyebrow and pushed a piece of chocolate into his mouth.

She was too engrossed in playing, she hadn’t noticed Mozart enter the room.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.” she fumbled and motioned to stand from the bench, preparing to make a run for it while trying to form a good enough excuse.

Mozart raised his hand, gesturing her to stop as he slightly choked on the chocolate he was eating,

"Stay.”

She gave him a good stare before sitting back down on the bench. She turned to face him, hands on her lap, guiltily fondling her skirt.

She knew Mozart didn’t like people touching his things, especially his music - his piano.

She gave off a light sigh as she lifted her head to the sight of Mozart handing her her coffee,

“Drink, it’ll get cold.”

She took the cup from him. It’s still warm, but not as hot as how she wanted it to be.

Mozart sat back down, fingers now cradling his jaw, arm leaning on the table, “So, what are you calling it?”

She slightly shook her head and stared at him in question.

“What is the name of the piece?” He asked again.

“Oh- Nocturne in Eb Major. I didn’t compose it though. It’s Fryderyk Chopin’s-”

Her lips curled up just by talking about it. Then she noticed Mozart’s bewildered look,

“He came, roughly, a couple of decades after you.”

He nodded, “Hmm. It’s a beautiful piece.”

He reached out for another piece of chocolate, and popped it into his mouth, trying to hide his growing jealousy of how enthusiastically she spoke of another man.

“It is. In fact, it is one of my favorites to play. Your music influenced his, and many more, you know?” She smiled brightly at Mozart before taking a sip of her coffee.

He felt his cheeks lightly flush at the compliment. Little did he know how big an impact his music has made on the world, centuries after his mortal soul passed.

Mozart cleared his throat. “You, on the other hand, never mentioned you can play?”

He stared hard at her, as if feeling cheated.

Her smile faded into a look of embarrassment. She sunk her face to meet her rising hands that cradled the cup, and drowned herself in coffee.

The last thing she would’ve ever wanted was to receive criticisms from people, especially Mozart, knowing how much of a perfectionist he was when it came to music.

“I just know a bit. There’s still a lot for me to learn.” she chuckled to her now empty cup.

Mozart let out a smirk. He obviously didn’t believe her. Her humility and simplicity always made his heart skip a beat, falling for her even more. He liked that about her.

Mozart grabbed a piece of chocolate from the box, left his seat, and made his way behind her. “Oh lamb,”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, and the other, finger lightly traced along the length of her spine- from her nape, down to the curve of her back, causing her to arch her back and release a soft moan.

Ahh.

As soon as her mouth opened, he stuffed the chocolate in.

“Your posture”

He bent over to nuzzle her neck, breathing her sweet scent in. Her heart beating wildly as he growled and nipped her ear.

“Your control”

He pulled the cup from her grasp, letting her hands drop gently on the keys.

“and fingering tell me otherwise, meine liebe.”

He holds her chin between his fingers, tilts her face for their eyes to meet.

“Du kannst mich nicht täuschen.” / “You cannot fool me.”

He stepped away to set the cup on the table, leaving her flushed from ear to ear, and her breathing heavy and erratic. 'What a tease!’

“Go on now. Play.” He demanded.

She froze in her seat and chose to ignore his request. She rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh, quietly whispering to herself, “der penner.”

“I really can’t, but thank you anyway.” She closed the cover of the piano.

She patted her skirt down, stood from the bench to leave the room,

“Indeed, it has been a wonderful evening, Herr Moza-ah!”

Mozart interrupts her by pulling her by the wrist, and winding an arm around her waist to keep her still. Her palms braced on his chest.

“Hmm-” He tucks an errant lock of hair behind her ear and cups her cheek,

“First, you touch my music. Then, my piano. ” He pulls her in closer, the air between them getting hotter,

“Now, when I asked you to play, you call me a jerk and try to run away. ”

He looked directly into her eyes, studying her.

“What am I going to do to you?”

She looks away from those intense violet eyes, her cheeks blush a bright pink.

“I’m sorry, okay? Lesson learned-”

Mozart placed a finger on her lips, bringing back her gaze to meet his eyes that burned with passion and need.

“A lesson you shall learn then.”

He leaned in for a deep and gentle kiss, his tongue parted her lips, in search of hers. He pulls her in just a bit more as he slides his thigh in between her legs.

She grasps his shirt, breaks the kiss and gasps at the sudden friction between her legs, “Wolf-”

Panting, he buries his face in her neck, breathing in her sweet scent and sucking gently along her pulse. His fangs emerge, grazing her skin ever so gently as he unbuttons her blouse one by one.

“Wolf, wait-” she gently pushes him as she hears voices in the hall. “-please, the door.”

He growls, breaks his hold on her, and heads for the open door, immediately switching the light off in the music room. He eyes Arthur and Dazai walking down from the parlor.

“Wolfie! Done for today, yeah?” Arthur exclaims, “Fancy getting some drinks with us tonight?”

Dazai eyes Natalia behind Mozart in the shadows of the dark room, clutching on to the top of her blouse. He places a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, “Now, now, Artie, Mo-kun looks exhausted. Some other time, no?” He looks at Mozart and flashes him a warm smile, pulling Arthur away. The two got out of sight.

With a sigh, Mozart closes the door behind him. His eyes darken as he turns back to her.

“This-” his hand trails, ever so slowly unbuttoning the remainder of her blouse, “-is for my eyes, and my eyes only”. He pulls it off, dropping it on the marble floor.

As he presses her against the piano, he slides his thigh back between her legs, mouth traces hungrily against her jaw- nipping and grazing. She trembles beneath his touches, and her head tilts giving him full access. “No, not yet-” Mozart pants in between kisses “-not there”. He nips, tracing down from her neck, her collarbone, to the swell of her chest.

In one swift motion, he unlocks and tugs her bra off. His mouth closes over a taut nipple, sucking harshly and tugging. She moans. Hands threading in his hair, and head falling back. “Shi-ah!” Her hips involuntarily buck, firmly pressing against his erection.

He ran his fingers along the hem of her skirt, lifting it to caress and squeeze the back of her thighs. He looks up at her, voice low and eyes burning with desire, “May I?”

She cups his flushed face in her hands, “my love, I am yours.”

He shifts and lifts her, half-sitting on the white and gold piano. He sinks down to his knees, and nuzzles his face into the inner side of her knee. Peppered nips and kisses travel inner thighs, riding her skirt up in the process. He tugs both her skirt and her underwear off- the tantalizing scent of her arousal goes straight to his core, driving him to the brink of insanity.

He hooks a leg over his shoulder and lightly blows on her soaked sex. She shivers from the tease, firmly gripping him by the hair, “Wolf, please-”, she begs for more.

More it shall be.

Before she can manage a full breath, his hot tongue deliberately glides across her glistening slit, and his lips close against her throbbing clit. With every pass, his tongue pushes in deeper past her lips, and his lapping, less sparing than the previous.

She shudders in his arms, moans growing frustratingly louder.

And with a bite that almost breaks flesh, she forces out a loud cry, causing her knees to buckle. Almost.

He catches her mouth in his, pushing his tongue in, almost instantly muffling her frustrated cry, while giving her a taste of her own arousal. Her hands fondle with his shirt, impatiently removing it. Then to his belt. As soon as she unbuckles it, he grabs her by the wrists and drapes her hands around his neck.

He slides one- two digits into her heat, groaning in her lips at how tight she was.

In and out, he slides and curls his fingers at a painstakingly slow tempo- Lagro.

Her hips jolted at the maestro’s touch.

She nuzzles his neck, planting torrid kisses and lightly bites his ear lobe. She whispers between gasps, “Please-”

“Please, what?” His voice low and husky, keeping the tempo but increasing the pressure.

“I need you” her hand slips down his chest, his taut abdomen, and to the distended area of his pants. Her warm hand palming his erection through the fabric.

“I know you do” He chuckles into her ear as he unbuttons his pants with his free hand, chucking them completely off.

He pulls his digits out of her and grabs her by the back of her knees, hooking her legs around his waist. He pulls her a little closer, and just a little over the edge of the piano.

He guides his member, and rubs his head along her slick folds, teasing. He clings onto her hips, he lets out a near-silent moan as he sinks deep into her to begin a swift and harsh tempo.

Her back arches from the sheer pleasure. And her moans, louder and more erratic as her hips are in tempo to meet his, forcing her deeper and faster onto him.

His breathing grew heavy, muffling his growls into her neck. He feels her clutching him tighter as the familiar waves of pleasure build up in her.

“Mein schatz,” he rumbles before kissing her hard. Slamming in deeper and faster, “hold on tight.”

She screams and her head falls back as she goes over the edge. He follows her only a few seconds later, pounding her deep, and grinding her against the piano as they ride the waves of ecstasy.

Still trembling, she pulls her head back, stares at him and cups his face in the palms of her hands.

His silver hair disheveled by her own hands, now shines as he basks under the moonlight. And his usual stoic eyes, now dark with lust and desire.

“God, I love you.” she barely whispers through her strained voice.

He intertwines her hands in his, taking it to his lips and kissing them both as he murmurs and groans,

“God knows I love you too”

He brings her hands to her side and plants a kiss on her lips and gazes deep into her eyes, “- I love you more than anything.”

But just when she thought it was over, his hips started thrusting again- this time, slow and deep.

She trembles and whines with every pound, throwing her head back again, feeling the aftershocks of the climax build into a new wave of pleasure.

“Ah!”

His breathing is heavy. He leans in and buries his face between her neck and shoulder blade. Trailing it with nips, and grazing it ever so lightly with his fangs.

And just before she could call out his name, his fangs break her skin.

Her hands frantically grip the edge of the piano as he sucks greedily, muffling his moans on her skin. Waves of hot pleasure rush through her, leaving her numb and trembling in broken moans as he pumps into her.

He releases his bite just before he loses control, and pulls his now softening member out of her.

He cups his hands on her face, caressing her cheeks with his fingers. She limply trembles beneath his touch.

"Have you learned your lesson, meine liebe?”

She places her arms over his shoulders, clasping them behind his neck, “Well, that was uncalled for.”

She chuckles then plants a kiss on his forehead. “You know, maybe I haven’t?”

He lifts her off the piano, picks up her blouse, and wraps it around her shoulders.

“How stubborn can you get?”

#ikemen vampire #ikemen mozart #ikevam mozart #ikevamp #cybrid #ikemen fanfiction #ikemen isaac #ikevamp fanfiction

69 notes · View notes

theolddarkmachine · 3 years

Text

Imaginary - Chapter Seventeen

Midoriya Izuku’s life was turned upside by fate.

Eri’s life was turned upside down by circumstance.

And Bakugou Katsuki is about to learn that even imaginary friends need to grow up.

Chapter 17 of 19

Also on AO3

A/N: It’s another kinda shorter one but FAO;IJSELDFJ DOST MINE EYES SPOT THE LIGHT AT THE END OF THE TUNNEL? After this, only one chapter and an epilogue left! also, fun fact, tsuru was my grandma’s maiden name!

***********************

The sun is bright and warm, heating Katsuki’s skin as he lets his feet carry him along the sidewalk. He’s distantly aware of the continuous chatter beside him as his latest assignment goes over the tactics of their most recent game of capture the flag with the other neighborhood kids at the park.

Tsuru Yuji, age 6.

Target of schoolyard bullies.

Colorful personality trapped behind a stoic, quiet demeanor.

In the beginning, Katsuki had thought that he’d be a bit of a tougher case, one that would keep his mind from tracking back to the house just two streets over with the girl with the happy smile, and the man with the all too bright eyes.

But things never went the way he wanted them to, apparently, since it had only taken a matter of days to break Yuji from his shell, and just a couple of weeks for the change to completely turn his school life around. Now Yuji had friends, and the inability to stop talking.

“Mr. Bakugou?” His name shattered his reverie, pulling his attention down to the kid at his side. The sunlight glinted off of Yuji’s too big glasses, blinding him momentarily.

“How many times do I have to tell you to drop the ‘mister,’ kid?” Katsuki gruffs without any heat as he returns his gaze back to the pavement stretched before them.

Yuji’s reply comes in the form of a high pitched giggle before he continues on about how next time, they should make the top of the slide their home base.

“Then, we could just slide down if we need to get away fast!” He exclaims, hands shooting upward as if the revelation is groundbreaking. And maybe it is.

Who was Katsuki to say for sure?

“You’re too damn smart, kid,” he replies with a halfhearted laugh of his own as he keeps his eyes trained forward.

The first time they’d taken this route back to Yuji’s house, he had told himself it was a mere accident. His feet had grown so used to this street that they’d automatically made their way here before he could even acknowledge the direction they had gone.

Not that it had mattered, as he had told himself, as he’d stolen a quick glance at the Midoriya household just days after he’d left it for the final time. While a bit out of the way, this path still technically did lead to Yuji’s house.

The second time they’d taken it, Katsuki had told himself a bit more walking was good for them both. Nothing wrong with a bit more exercise and all that.

Now, a month later, he had run out of excuses to tell himself.

It had broken just about every big rule in the imaginary friend handbook, but he couldn’t stop himself from trying to catch just one more glimpse of the pair that had worked their way so far under his skin.

When he had left the Midoriya household for the final time, he had left a bit of himself behind. The gaping open maw of his chest had been exposed and raw, leaving him filled with a painful ache unlike anything he had ever felt. Katuski had felt loss in the past, but this had been wholly different, and in those first few days, he had wondered if he might never be whole again.

It was a dramatic thought, of course. One he had to swallow down like a bitter pill as he’d taken on his next assignment.

The ache remained, it had just numbed enough for him to be able to finally breathe again.

But that didn’t stop him from walking by their home whenever the opportunity presented itself.

Just to be sure things were still okay.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

Gaze still ahead, and Yuji’s droning voice filling his ear, Katsuki feels his heart stutter at the sight of movement in the Midoriya’s yard.

The honey colored sunlight twists in Eri’s hair, making it shine bright as she cheers happily at something Izuku says. She looks absolutely elated as she crawls her way up into the car and waits for her dad to get her buckled in. When Izuku closes the door, and turns to walk around the back, Katsuki can see the wide smile that’s still stretched across his lips.

They look so happy, he thinks, and something about that knowledge fills his lungs with acid.

Katsuki watches as Izuku makes his way around the vehicle, his wide frame pausing at the driver’s side as he looked out toward the street.

For just one fleeting moment, Katsuki feels his breath stall in his chest as that familiar green stare passes over him. It’s gone almost as quickly as it has come, but it still leaves his heart racing as he watches Izuku climb into the car.

“Mr. Bakugou!” Yuji’s voice is indignant as he calls his attention back to him. Snapping his gaze away from the car as it backs out of the driveway, Katsuki hums.

“Yeah, yeah, kid,” he says, trying to ignore the strain that leaves him sounding breathless. “I’m listening.”

***

Katsuki was fucking angry.

And tired.

So goddamn tired.

Tired of the pitying looks his friends shot him when they thought he wasn’t looking. Tired of feeling like hole had been punched through his fucking chest. Tired of the emerald colored dreams that haunted him.

And especially tired of being summoned to the fucking Administrator’s office.

He’d woken that morning to the text that had the audacity to proclaim a meeting time for just an hour from then, and he already knew what it meant. Time to move on. Because it was always fucking time to move on.

Katuski would never be able to stay in one place for long, never allowed to be something permanent.

And that pissed him off.

His angry steps punctuated the otherwise quiet of the lobby, making the poor sap manning the front desk jump as they looked up from their coffee towards him.

“Mr. Bak—” they start to say, eyes going wide as he growls.

“Don’t call me that,” Katsuki hisses before he throws open the doors. The loud crack of the wood against the walls cut through the air in a dramatic way that would normally fill him with some sort of thrill. Now, it just settles somewhere in the vast expanse that sits at the center of his chest, lost to the empty feeling that’s slowly expanding.

“Lively as ever this morning, young Bakugou,” the Administrator says, not bothering to look up from the folder he’s holding open before him.

The sight of the unassuming tan of the file only serves to push the burning fury through him faster as he lets the doors fall shut behind him with another loud crash. It feels as if the air in the room is sucked out by the bone shaking sound as Katsuki fixes his fiery stare on Toshinori.

“Cut to the chase, old man,” he snarls, mouth twisting into a sneer that’s full of teeth and sharp rage.

A soft sigh brushes through the space as he watches the Administrator close the folder before gently pushing it toward the edge of the desk.

“Please take a seat,” Toshinori offers, keeping his attention forward.

“I’d rather just get this over with,” Katsuki bites out in return.

There’s another weighted pause before Toshinori sits back, his gaze finally finding Katsuki’s as it flashes with the steely silence of a command. For all the kindness and fun loving nature that encapsulated the Administrator, he had almost forgotten that he was the leader of the Imaginary Friends fo a reason.

Swallowing the sharp taste of his pride, Katsuki walks to the bean bag chair, falling into it with a muted thud.

“Talk,” Katsuki snaps, whittling the single word down to a barely there syllable as he keeps his gaze trained on Toshinori’s. His stubborn defiance is the only reason he catches the shift in the Administrator’s stare as it sweeps over him. Softening into something fond, and almost sad, it cools the inferno tearing through his veins, if only for just a moment.

“Have I ever told you about my predecessor?” He asks, solemn and far off, as if lost to the track of time.

“You brought me here for a fucking history lesson?” Katsuki growls, hands curling into tight fists where they sit on his knees. Toshinori’s eyebrow raises in silent admonishment. It forces a low string of grumbles from his mouth as he folds his arms across his chest and slips lower into the bean bag.

“His name was Banjo Daigoro, and he was a great Administrator,” he sighs at the memory. “But I was never his first choice for successor.”

A spark of interest lights the cavern of his insides as he cocks his head to the side.

“Originally, he had chosen one of my closest friends,” the Administrator continues before taking a steadying breath.

“Shimura Nana.”

The name rocks through Katsuki, sending a chill rocketing down his spine as his mind spins around the words that had encapsulate Shimura Nana’s terminated friendship.

“She was in training to take over the position, but was still going out into the field. Loved working with kids, you know?” He says, a small chuckle weaving between his words as his gaze goes distant at the memory.

“Banjo had assigned her a final case before she was going to be officially promoted. But then, she was seen.”

Shimura Nana reports child caretaker made verbal acknowledgement of her presence.

Katsuki remembered. She had only been with her charge for a week before it had happened.

And then—

Friendship terminated.

“Torino Sorahiko,” Toshinori rattles off, voice void of inflection as he recites what was written in the file word for word, as if it laid there before him.

“Lost both his parents. Was showing aggression towards his uncle, who had taken him in. He was a good kid, Nana was adamant about that. Then one day, his uncle saw her, and spoke to her.”

The blue of his eyes goes perfectly clear, settling into a cutting blue as his gaze returns to the present. Finding Katsuki once more, they whittle away at him until he’s flayed open, raw and exposed beneath the Administrator’s stare.

The feeling of being seen clings to him like a premonition. It’s equal parts awe and terror as it works its way through him.

Swallowing thickly, Katsuki speaks.

“What happened?”

But he knows. Has known for far too long.

Friendship terminated.

“We aren’t exactly supposed to be seen by anyone other than our charge, especially not by their parents or caretakers, as you know,” Toshinori says, pausing long enough to arch a brow at him before continuing.

“And Nana knew that too. Probably better than most, given the position she was going to take.”

He pauses again as his lips quirk sharply upward with bygone amusement and his voice falls into a hush, carried by the weight of his memory’s past.

“Funny thing is, that didn’t change anything. Even knowing hadn’t been enough.”

Katsuki’s breath catches deep in his throat and threatening to choke him as Toshinori speaks.

“Officially, they terminated the friendship. If you found Torino’s file right now, it would say as much. But Nana had returned after that, and they could still see her.”

Silence settles between them as Katsuki notices the way Toshinori’s eyes shine wetly.

“So, she made a choice,” he finally concludes with a shrug, as if what he had just said was nothing. As if he had just been talking about the weather. Katsuki might have even found it funny, how mundane he had made it, if it wasn’t for the fact that every single one of the Administrator’s words had been shrapnel that had torn him apart.

“What did she choose?” He hears himself ask, voice twisted into something even he doesn’t recognize. It hurts, the way it scrapes itself through his throat, and he could swear he tastes blood at the back of his tongue.

And yet for all the ways Katsuki ached, Toshinori just looks him over before fixing him with an all knowing smile.

Slowly, he reaches across the desk and pushes the folder closer towards him.

“It’s time to move on, young Bakugou,” he says by way of answer. The statement rings with a finality, one that doesn’t allow for argument or further discussion.

Sighing loudly, Katsuki grabs the folder, defeat hanging heavy across his shoulders in a way that makes him think he might find himself crushed into the ground with it.

Maybe that would be better, anyway, he thinks as he flips it open. With his eyes fixed down at the file, Katsuki feels his heart rate spike as it ratchets inside the cage of his chest.

“What is this?” He asks, not looking up. His pulse is deafening as it beats its soaring rhythm in his ears as his eyes trace back and forth across the folder, as if he’s missing something.

Except he knows he isn’t.

What could he possibly miss when the file itself is empty?

Katsuki’s tongue sticks to the roof of his mouth as he finally shifts his attention upward. His confusion is met with another smile.

“Even imaginary friends need to grow up,” the Administrator says. The words circle around him, overlaid with the memory from months ago, when he’d been in this same spot, only the folder before him then had held information about a little girl and her dad.

Then, he hadn’t known his life was about to change.

Now, he feels the sudden click of a realization deep in his chest as his gaze falls back down on the empty folder in his lap.

A rush works through him, filling the chasm at the center of his chest as his lips slowly turn up into a smile.

************************

#bakudeku #bkdk #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #this one is a bit dialogue heavy buuuuut it is what it is lol #WE ALMOST TO THE FINISH LINE BOOOOIS

10 notes · View notes

queenof-literature · 4 years

Text

Linked Galaxy - Where Loyalties Lie

It’s here! I’m very sorry for the delay. As I stated on my Tumblr I was very sick and midterms are coming up so overall... livin la vida loca. I hope you enjoy my first chapter of Linked Galaxy, my Star Wars AU for Linked Universe! I would like to say again that Linked Universe was created by Jojo @linkeduniverse, and Star Wars is owned by Disney. I in no way take credit for either, however I worked very hard on the headcanons for this universe and to combine the two together in my story of Linked Galaxy. But neither are mine. I hope you enjoy!

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away

After the death of his master, Sith Lord Ghirahim has recieved a way to travel across not only dimmentions, but time itself. Seeking to manipulate the strange wormholes for his own bidding, Ghirahim searches the new lands in hope of harnessing this power.

A new empire is born… The United Realms.

Only one band of heroes can stop him, a band of nine Heroes of Courage brought together by Hylia from nine different times. All of the Hyrule Galaxies now lay in their hands.

But unknown to all, a far more sinister being is pulling the strings of United Realms’ and our heroes’ actions.

“Faster you imbelces!” Commander Bulblin snapped. He couldn’t believe how he was stuck with what had to be the most incompetent portion of Ghirahim’s army. It was most likely some punishment from Ghirahim for Bulblin ‘speaking out of place’ in a gathering. Bublin scoffed. The only reason that man had an army in the first place is due to the death of their Emperor, and he dared to call Bulblin disrespectful? Bulblin never even fought under Ghirahim, he was from a different Hyrule! Apparently, all Ganons had been killed by a Grey Jedi, all sharing the name Link. Just that name… Link, sent rage crawling up Bublin’s spine. It was because of those so called heroes, that he was stuck working under Ghirahim in the first place. Why was this Hyrule the only one with a Ghirahim? Not only that, but he expected an army that wasn’t rightfully his to go on some interdimmentional quest, to take over the nine Galaxies that they now had access to? It was a ridiculous notion, one that the other commanders and generals seemed to share save a few others. General Zant didn’t seem keen on the whole ordeal, but that man would do anything for power and could not be trusted. Bublin sighed and continued on with this ridiculous job. He just had to lay low for now.

Taking over all nine Hyrules wasn’t the only goal Ghirahim had in mind. He needed to bring back Ganon. He needed to bring back his master. Emperor Ghirahim sat on his old Master’s throne in contemplation. The guards had gotten used to his angry mutterings by now. In order to truly bring the Hyrule Galaxy to its knees, all of them, Ganon would need to be resurrected. He could do it himself of course, but Ganon had authority Ghriahim knew he would never gain from his armies.

He had split the armies into nine, based on the Galaxy they were from. It made the most sense.

The Seadogs were from the realm of the Hero of Winds. They were quite stupid, but loyal to their cause. Ghirahim usually put them in the Tie-fighters and smaller fighting vessels. They knew how to fly and they were expendable to boot.

The Fallen were from the Hero of Hyrule’s time. They were absolutely vicious, the most focused in bringing their Ganon back. Ghirahim had never known the hero’s blood was required to resurrect their Ganon, but let them bleed the little brat dry for all he cared.

The Oracles were from the Hero of Legend’s galaxy. They were an interesting group. Absolutely hated the hero and wanted him to suffer. Ghirahim could appreciate that.

The Savages were from the Hero of Wild’s world. World, because the monsters apparently were not even aware there was a galaxy outside their world until now. This portion of his army constantly gave him a migraine. They were so smart but so stupid. They had never taken an actual order in their lives.

The Accursed were from the Hero of Time’s galaxy. Relatively useful, compared to some others Ghirahim couldn’t complain as much. Like the Oracles, they were hellbent on destroying their Link and any happiness he had.

The Twili were from the Hero of Twilight’s realm. Obviously. They were ruggish and quite frankly scarier than most of the other armies. They, at least, knew how to follow a commander, even if that commander was a bumbling fool.

The Shadows were from the Hero of the Four Sword’s galaxy. Ghirahim thought the name was underwhelming, but apparently the dark world in that galaxy was strongly entangled in the light, so Ghirahim let it slide.

The Shattered, the Hero of Warriors’ galaxy, was who Ghirahim suspected were responsible for the wormholes in the first place. However none admitted to it, so he didn’t even think they knew what was going on either. There were hoards of them that never seemed to send, they were certainly an asset.

The Skybreakers, the damned Hero of Sky’s adversaries. The little brat had the absolute audacity to still be alive, and now he had teamed up with more children. Ghirahim wouldn’t stand for it. The name had spread like wildfire, Ghirahim didn’t know where it came from but it spread fear, and that is what’s important. When one of his first class ships broke through the atmosphere, they would scream about the Skybreakers. Ghirahim loved it.

Ghirahim was broken from his musings by the opening of his door.

“How many times have I told you idiots to knock?” Ghirahim snapped, cruel eyes bearing into the souls of his useless guards.

“Apologies Lord Ghirahim.” the guard stuttered out. Ghirahim was technically Emperor in his master’s… absence. But everyone still called him ‘Lord’. Ghirahim didn’t correct them, he didn’t think Ganondorf would appreciate it if he thought his apprentice was attempting to take his throne for good. “General Zant demands your presence, my lord.” The guard finished.

“He demands?” Ghirahim questioned, poison lacing his words, rubbing his fingers along the cool metal of his lightsaber.

“That is what he said, my lord.” The guard confirmed, and Ghirahim rolled his eyes at the man’s cowardice.

“Send him in and get it over with.” Ghirahim commanded, marching up to the throne. He plopped down carelessly, crossing his legs and leaning against one side. Ganon used to tell him that it didn’t matter how you sat on the throne, what mattered was how much power you displayed. The throne itself was intimidating, but if the man or woman sitting on it commanded attention as well, anyone would bend the knee.

The grand doors opened slowly to reveal the large man, that ridiculous helm covering his face.

“What, Zant?” Ghirahim demanded before the man even approached.

“My Lord, may I just say I respect how you are able to command all nine armies at once-”

“Don’t flatter me you coward. Tell me what you want.” Ghirahim ground out impatiently. If he was in the mood he would tease the man, get him wound up. It was so easy to torment Zant, but Ghirahim was not in the mood.

“Do you think it wise, to continue to hop through strange wormholes? There is no guarantee they will open up again.” Zant finally spoke up.

“Our engineers and scientists are working everyday to harness the power the wormholes provide.” Ghirahim said flippantly. n

“Yes, My Lord, but if before then we get trapped in a strange Hyrule?” Zant questioned.

“Then we will take over that Hyrule. You seem to forget we are not the only ones traveling through those wormholes. The heroes are as well.” Ghirahim spoke with venom.

“Why do the heroes matter. Should we not hope to be rid of them?” Zant attempted to ignore the dangerous look in Ghirahim’s eyes.

“According to the Fallen, we need their blood to raise Ganon again. That is our main goal, Zant. If we need to move to other realms to do it we will.” Ghirahim could feel his blood beginning to heat at the countless questions.

“Will any of it matter if we get trapped in a different galaxy? In a different time?” Zant’s voice was getting louder.

“I have the chance to take over nine realms at least.” Ghirahim began, practically growling. “And you want me to give up because of your cowardice?”

“You misheard me, My Lord.” Zant tried desperately to recover. “I only want what is best for the United Realms. But… Ganon is gone, My Lord. Perhaps it's best for him to rest in peace so we may move on.” Zant waited with bated breath. If possible, Ghirahim’s eyes turned even more cold. Under the steel gaze of his superior, Zant felt ten times smaller.

“I believe I like you more as a coward, Commander Zant.” Ghirahim snarked, reminding Zant of his rank. “You forget yourself Zant, Ghirahim leaned forward in his throne. “Without Ganon… you are nothing.” Ghirahim snarled. “Get out.” Ghirahim commanded, voice neutral and cold, so unlike his normal self. Zant looked like he was going to argue, neutral face twitching slightly behind his mask, before he turned and left without a word.

Ghirahim contemplated what Zant had said. If the commander himself thought this way, Ghirahim could have even more disloyalty than he originally thought. He would have to take care of this. Ghirahim could feel it in the air… disloyalty.

Sky took a large breath, allowing Hylia’s energy to surround him completely. The room he normally shared with Four was pitch black, but that didn’t matter. Feeling close to the energy around him was all it took to be aware of his surroundings.

He could feel the other's presence upon their old ship. They had all pitched in to restore this old hunk of metal to… well not the prettiest thing in the galaxy, but it fit them all well enough.

Sky reached his mind through Hylia’s energy. He could feel Hyrule resting in the room he shared with Wild and Legend. He must have trained hard today for him to be resting in the afternoon. Sometimes it felt as though Hyrule, Wild and Wind all had an infinite amount of energy, Sky was glad Hyrule was at least taking it easy for once. He reached further down the hall. Across the hall he could feel Wind and Warriors’ cabin but no one was in there.

Sky took another deep breath and felt the waves of Hylia’s force extend to the rest of their ship. It was a simple exercise, one that younglings were taught at the academy, but it was good practice. Wind and Warriors were in the lounge, probably playing Dejarik at the holotable. Wind was most certainly cheating. He continued his exercise, finding Wild’s energy in the bottom turret. The boy enjoyed gazing out into the stars. He had never thought there was an entire galaxy outside his planet when he had met the others, and that had blown the other Link’s minds, even Hyrule. Apparently the only remnants of magic and technology in his Hyrule were from the Sheikah, who had died out millennia ago. Now the boy watched the galaxy outside constantly. Anytime they needed to find Wild, they knew to look in all the windowed areas first. He would get tired and stressed staying on the ship for too long, so looking at the stars helped him pass the time, as he told Sky one evening.

Sky felt a slight prod at his own energy. Time must be doing the exercise as well then, probably in his and Twilight’s room. Sky reached out and greeted the man, smiling when he received a greeting back, albeit a little weak. Sky may not fully understand where Time’s previous hatred of Hylia has stemmed from, but he came from a different galaxy, Sky would most likely never comprehend what the other man had gone through. He was working to strengthen the bond again, but only enough to help them on this quest.

Sky then moved on and felt Twilight and Four’s energy. They seemed to be in the cockpit chatting with Legend. Sky didn’t let himself linger on Twilight’s energy for too long. Something about it was just… off, and dark. Sky trusted Twilight with his life, and knew the other Link would tell them if something was wrong or when he was ready. Still though, it made Sky uncomfortable. The same with Four. It wasn’t dark, his energies were just fuzzy, like there were puzzle pieces all smashed together. Legend’s energy was always interesting as well. The young man was experienced and his energy showed that, but there was also the feeling of melancholy all the other Links had. Having them all in the same room while Sky was focusing so intently gave him a small headache, so he retracted.

Sky opened his eyes after one more deep breath, allowing his energy to flow free once again. A slowly stood from the smooth floor and stretched his legs. He always lost track of time whenever he meditated, but feeling the other’s presence had reassured him he didn’t miss anything. His door slid open as he approached, he barely ever locked it. Sky decided to go see what Warriors and Wind were up to. Walking down the half barren halls, he smiled at the art on the walls. When they fixed the ship, yet to be named, the halls were completely barren and militaristic. Wind had decided they would need to fix that. Every Link was tasked with putting something on the wall. Some were complicated designs, others were just handprints or finger drawings. Sky thought it was Wind’s best idea yet.

Sky approached the lounge and chuckled at the bickering he heard. Wind must have been caught cheating. Again.

“You can’t prove shit!” Wind yelled across the holotable.

“I don’t need to, kid. I know you!” Warriors snarked back. Sky wasn’t surprised to see Warriors wearing his scarf, even without his chainmail. The royal blue scarf contrasted greatly to his blank cream tunic, but in the couple of months he had known Warriors, Sky had barely ever seen the man without it. Sky worried it had something to do with the war that Warriors was forced to fight, and the nightmares and blank looks the man would fall into, but he never asked.

“What’s that supposed to mean? How would I cheat with a holotable?” Wind demanded.

“It means you were taught this game by pirates, kid. Your piece was over here, and now it’s over there.” Warriors pointed to parts of the board that Sky couldn’t see. “I’ll give it to ya, kiddo. If I wasn’t so observant I wouldn’t have noticed.” Warriors smirked.

“Don’t preen yourself.” Wind grumbled.

“Having fun?” Sky spoke up to make his presence known to the two boys wrapped up in their argument. Wind and Warriors whipped around.

“Hey, Sky.” Warriors greeted. “You wanna play a round with the pirate?”

“Maybe later.” Sky chuckled, sitting down next to Wind.

“Where is everyone? It’s dinnertime soon.” Wind questioned, glancing at the small clock displayed near the bottom of the holotable. They had been in the ship for about 24 hours now, clocks were the only way to keep track in space.

“They’re all chatting or relaxing. I’ll call down Wild.” Sky stood up and walked over to the wall comm rotating the slightly rusted top wheel from ‘All’ to ‘Lower Turret’. “Wild, it’s almost dinner time.” Sky called while pressing the comm button. There was a pause, then a crackle from the other side of the speaker.

“Sorry, Sky! I lost track of time.” Wild spoke loudly into comm. “Oops I yelled again.” Sky let go of the button to hide his laughter. Coming from a world with no ships, comms, or any other technology outside of the old Sheikah tech, the boy had trouble remembering that comms picked up more range of sound than even regular talking.

“No problem, Wild. I can make dinner tonight if you want to keep stargazing.” Sky teased, knowing his offer would be refused instantly.

“No no! I’m coming!” Wild assured before the other speaker went dead. Sky laughed, moving the wheel to ‘Cockpit’, then ‘Cabin 2’ to notify the others as well. According to Warriors, comms had advanced far past what they had on their ship. Now there were programs to send to designated locations all at once, among other functions. The ship communications themself weren't that big of a deal, but Sky worried what that increase in technology meant for the UR’s weapons and ships. Especially now that there were nine different armies they were facing. With a quiet slide of the door, Wild raced in and ran to the small corner that was their kitchen.

“Sorry guys!” Wild apologized, pulling what little ingredients they had out of their metallic cupboard. They would have to stock up soon.

“It’s fine Wild, you have plenty of time.” Warriors reassured. The others tried to offer to make dinner, but Wild enjoyed it so much they eventually stopped offering almost completely.

Time came in next, eyes still a little foggy from meditation.

“Where is everyone else?” Time asked.

“Legend, Twi and Four are on their way, and Hyrule is resting so I figured we would give him a little more time.” Time nodded, moving to sit at their meal table that barely seated them all. Everyone knew how hard Hyrule pushed himself. He had the rare gift of healing, a combination of magic and energy that was almost extinct, in all nine galaxies at that. Apparently the more he used his magic, the better he got and the more stamina he gained. That combined with Legend training the boy how to use elements of the Ataru fighting style was sure to be tolling.

“Hey all!” Twilight called as the doors slid open, followed by Legend and Four.

“Where’s Hyrule?” Legend frowned.

“He’s resting. We wanted to give him a bit more time. You can go wake him if you want, we just thought we’d give him some more time.” Sky told Legend.

“Wild, how long until dinner is ready?” Four questioned.

“Ummm, about 20 minutes. Sorry I got a bit of a late start.” Wild apologized, mixing ingredients so quick the others had no idea how he wasn’t spilling.

“Relax, Wild. It gives Hyrule more time anyway.” Warriors assured.

“I’m gonna go get him. Best to give him time to wake up before he eats.” Legend claimed as he left for their cabin, flipping off Warriors behind him when the other man coughed out what sounded suspiciously like “mother hen”.

“What’s for dinner Wild?” Four asked as Legend left.

“Omelets if that’s alright. I know that it’s more of a breakfast thing, but I think the cucco eggs will go bad if I don’t use them soon.” Wild explained.

“That sounds really good actually.” Twilight nodded, although to his hollow stomach anything sounded good. Wild relaxed significantly, as if he’d been scared of the other’s reactions. He wasn’t as skittish as he used to be, but he still struggled to feel enough around the other Links, even with simple tasks.

The Links settled into comfortable chatter, around the table as Wild made different kinds of omelets. The door slid open once again a few minutes later, revealing Legend and a groggy Hyrule in tow.

“Hey Hyrule.” Time greeted casually, not mentioning the deep nap Hyrule had obviously just woken from. If the boy was actually resting, Time didn’t want to push it by bringing it up.

“Hi.” Hyrule greeted with a yawn. “What’s for dinner?” Hyrule called over to Wild.

“Omelets.” Wild said simply, fully concentrated on seasoning the food in front of him.

“Nice!” Hyrule called as he sat down, shoving his way next to Legend, leaving just enough room for Wild. Ten minutes of idle conversation went by before dinner was finally ready.

“Dinner’s ready!” Wild called, hefting a large plate filled with Omelets over to their table.

“Hylia, we had that many eggs?” Four asked, shocked.

“Yeah we had a lot more than I thought, but they were all going to go bad soon so I had to use them.” Wild clarified again, setting the large plate in the center of the table, squeezing into the last space around the table. The others practically drooled at the smell and sight, herbs that they didn’t even know the names of partly covered the perfectly cooked omelets.

The other Links barely took turns digging in, the sound fighting and clashing forks and loud laughter echoed in the small eating nook. The looming threat of the United Realms could be forgotten for now, even for an hour or so. They all felt it flowing through the energy, flowing from each other… loyalty.

Was it cheesy to start this with “A long time ago in a galaxy far far away”? Yes. Was I legally obligated to? Also yes. And yes they still use minutes in space don’t @ me lmao. I hope you enjoyed!

32 notes · View notes

toosicktoocare · 4 years

Note

Ooh, if you're looking for TMA prompts: I'm starved for Tim & Jon friendship content, and I know you love Tim, so maybe something where Jon is sick (migraine? Fever? Up to you!) and everyone thinks he's just in a mood and ignoring/snapping at them. So Tim goes into his office for something and finds him all miserable and is like ":( boss" (if you don't like this one, I can try again! ☺️)

I am here for this!

Set in season 1 around the Jane Prentiss drama llama.

Tim’s starting toward the archives to see Jon when he hears a door shut rather loudly. Not a slam, per se, but as close to one as, he expects, Martin can muster within his too-nice core. Sure enough, he spots Martin whipping around the corner, his face pinched together in frustration that contradicts the pain welling in his eyes.

Martin’s walking fast, eyes cast forward, and he stumbles to a stop right before Tim. Tim arches a brow, cocks his head to the side.

“Where’s the fire, Martin?”

“It appears, Tim, that it’s up Jonathan Sims’ arse.”

Tim doesn’t mean to laugh; he really shouldn’t laugh, but he does, and he brings his fist to his mouth in a poor attempt to cover the laugh with a cough. “What happened?” he asks, clearing his throat, amusement still playing wildly on his face.

“He’s in a mood,” Martin grumbles, “and he genuinely had the audacity to snap at me because I, god forbid, wanted to inquire about the table that was delivered. The table, I might add, that he’s acting so odd about because of a prevous statement.”

Tim hums, trying for sympathy, but it falls short for Martin only looks more irritated yet also more defeated, as if he’s just walked from a high school break up.

“If you’re going to see him, don’t get your hopes up for a pleasant conversation. He snapped at Sasha, too, though she handed it back to him very fast, and he completely ignored Elias.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Tim says, starting past Martin, but Martin latches onto his forearm with an interestingly strong grip, one that catches Tim off guard, and he stops, eyeing the fingers wrapped around his arm curiously.

“Please don’t tell Jon what I said.” Martin sighs, and Tim looks to see his shoulders slump almosy dramatically. “I’m just tired. Sleeping here is quite.. difficult at times.”

Tim can only imagine. He nods, and Martin’s hand drops back to his side.

“Your secret is safe with me,” Tim tries, light-hearted, unsure of how to fully approach this rather curious side of Martin, but Martin only offers a half-smile that falls far too quickly, and he leaves Tim.

Tim considers dwelling on this, but he has to prod Jon about the follow-up research he gave him two days ago because his work is at a standstill until he hears from Jon regarding his next statement.

When he gets to the door, he knocks lightly, and when he hears Jon’s dark voice griping about the table and how it doesn’t concern him, he opens the door, offering a small smile and wave.

“Ah, Tim,” Jon mutters, and Tim leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, and watches as Jon slips his glasses from his face to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“I thought you were Martin.”

“Sorry to disappoint,” Tim says around an easy laugh that hides his narrowed eyes. Though Jon’s head is cast down, Tim can see that Jon’s normally, sharp, dark skin looks hollow, dull, and his normally straightened posture has taken a huched look that almost makes Tim’s own back hurt.

He looks further down, spotting his follow-up notes scattered across Jon’s desk above his current statement, and he frowns briefly and clears his throat. “Hey, boss, if my notes aren’t up to par with your standards, I can try again. No worries.” His easy tone echoes hollowly against the dark, archive walls, and then Jon looks up at him and sighs deeply.

“It’s fine.”

Nodding, Tim pushes off against the wall and rubs at the back of his neck. He should leave, but there’s something off with Jon, more than just a mood. It’s too dark in the archives, with only a soft table lamp casting a dim glow across the room, and Jon’s jaw is clenched tightly, sharp angles jutting out and trembling slightly. If he didn’t know any better, he would think Jon’s in pain.

“Is there something else?”

“Acutally,” Tim draws out, “yeah.” He plugs in missing pieces, pushing the final one in place when Jon absently massages at his temples. “Do you have a mirgaine, Jon?” The dim lighting, apparent headache, the mood, Tim thinks, all make sense.

“Excuse me?”

The heat behind Jon’s voice has Tim holding both hands up in a visual show of mock defense. “Sorry, it’s just the lights, your sour mood-”

“-I’m only in a mood because I cannot, for the life of me, get through one single, bloody statement without one of you interrupting me!” Jon rises to his feet, but then one hand flies to his head while the other grips at the edge of the desk.

It takes Tim a good few seconds to realize Jon’s swaying, but once he does, he crosses the room easily, and places a hand to small of Jon’s back, gently easing Jon back to the chair.

“Easy, Jon,” he says softly, hand moving to the back of Jon’s neck. Subtly, he checks for a fever, finding Jon’s skin cool to the touch. Definitely a migraine, he thinks, pulling his hand back as Jon leans backward in his chair with a groan.

“Sorry,” Jon mutters through clenched teeth. He moves one hand to cover his eyes. “Perhaps you’re right.” Another sigh. “I feel quite dreadful.”

Tim’s surprised at the admittance, more so that it’s to him and not to Martin. He slips his hand into his pants pocket, fingers ghosting against his cell phone.

“When’s the last time you’ve slept?” Tim prods lightly, and Jon removes his hand, a tired look of annoyance washing over his face.

“I thought Martin was the only one to dote.”

“It’s just a question,” Tim pushes, cocking one head to the side at Jon’s following silence. “I take it you don’t remember?” He tsks quitely, slipping his phone from his pocket. “I’ll call a cab.”

“I’m busy-”

“-Cab or Elias,” Tim interrupts, arching both brows. “No offense, boss, but you look like hell warmed over, and I doubt you’ll be able to concentrate much on anything with a migraine. You’ll be better off at your flat where,” he spares a glance down to see a worm sliding in from under the door, and he smashes it with the heel of his shoe, “you’ll be free of worms and pesky interruptions.”

Jon almost snarls at the remenants of the worm, and he nods. Tim’s face lights up, and he quickly phones for the nearest cab.

“It will be just a few minutes,” Tim relays when he ends the call. “Do you think you can make it to the front door by yourself?”

“Of course I can,” Jon snaps. “I’m not an invalid.”

“Right,” Tim says, laughing lightly. “Well, I’ll be sure to send Martin if I hear you fall.” He laughs louder at the sharp look Jon shoots him as he turns toward the door. He stops, one hand resting on the door frame, and he looks over his shoulder.

“Oh, and Jon?”

“Yes?”

“Do feel better, yeah? Give a ring if you need anything. I’ll be sure to let Elias know you’ve gone home for the day.”

Jon nods, an unclear expression pulling across his face. “Of course. Thank you, Tim.”

Tim starts back to his desk, pretending to work until he hears Jon’s office door close. He decides, then, that it would be a good time to head toward the entrance, maybe take a brief walk outside, get some fresh air, not, he tells himself, only leaving the building at the same time as Jon to ensure his boss doesn’t topple to the ground.

Definitely not.

#tma #the magnus archives #sickfic #whump #jonathan sims #tim stoker #my writing #my tma writing #my the magnus archives writing #whumpfic #i really love Tim #and loving him scares me #(really liking anyone scares me lol)#except Jon #like i'll be shook if he ends up dying

69 notes · View notes