#this time I decided to shade n then erase the parts with light

[gastlyarts]

I miss hop....

#this new style is a lil funky #i wanna get good at it tho ;w;..... #sigh #this time I decided to shade n then erase the parts with light #but i think it made the shading in the face a lil funky #anyway #hop #pokemon #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #galar #digital art taggle

[helloheyhihowdyheya]

Rose Thorn Blues | p. 1

Peter Parker x fem!reader

Masterlist

Summary: The other Daily Bugle intern has been a thorn in your side all summer. But if you wanted the job, you'd have to work with him. And you'd do anything to get it.

Word count: ~7k

Warnings: Enemies to lovers!! Banter. Criminal activity. Swearing. A bit of angst but not really. J. Jonah Jameson lol.

A/n: I think this'll end up being around 3 parts, but we'll see. This has been tumblin' through my mind since last year, so I'm glad to finally let it out lol. Let me know your thoughts! Thanks for reading <3

You used to enjoy the clear sky on a sunny day, the vibrating blue that stretched until it curved around the horizon. Used to love the way the lapping waves of the Atlantic shimmered for miles, its ripples echoing the sky’s image. The blue of the world before the sun came up, or the indigo quiet of a rainy day.

You even used to love how red the rusted bricks outlining your apartment building looked, tracing the tips of your fingers along them as you walked by, scarlet pebbles breaking off into your palm. The cherry glow of a late-night diner’s “Open” sign made the beats of your heart stutter, its lights reflecting off the glass and illuminating puddles littering the sidewalk. Even with the occasional rose you passed on your way to work, the red petals surrounded by thorns and overgrown weeds, you still leaned your nose in to smell its sweet crimson scent. 

But that was before your internship at The Daily Bugle, before you had to write countless stories on Spider-Man all the time, and before you knew Peter, the other intern. Now, every cloudless day or trip to the ocean, hell, even the plump blueberries in the grocery store or a swirling glass of Merlot, an obnoxious red stoplight, or the tiniest cut exposing a drop of blood turned your stomach. You knew people could change you, but you’d never expected to hate the shades of red and blue — until you stared at it every day while standing in Parker’s shadow.

You’d shake your head, shove your fingernails into your palm, blink so hard your vision turned bright just to erase those colors from your mind and him from your thoughts. But you would have no such luck as you weaved your way through New York’s sidewalks under the summer sun, a barely-there breeze passing alongside the traffic. Your hand clutched your phone tight in its grasp.

On it held a photo of Spider-Man you’d just taken earlier that morning. He stopped a robbery, and you captured the moment he’d ripped off a car door to use as cover — a story that J. Jonah Jameson would love to spin into something ridiculous. You had nothing against the superhero, but it was what your boss wanted. The boss that would decide which intern would receive a full-time position at the end of the summer, and you wouldn’t go down without a fight against Parker.

He always had clearer photos and more information on Spider-Man — always seemed to get on the scene before you. You wouldn’t have been that upset if Parker actually was a better reporter than you, but that smug, chronically late asshole certainly wasn’t better than you. Not when you worked twice as hard just to watch him successfully stumble his way through this internship. 

And that stupid shrug he gave you when Jameson chose his story over yours! He’d mutter, “Better luck next time,” as if you weren’t covering for his ass half the time. You weren’t sure why you did it anymore. Maybe you didn’t want to watch him get fired since this wasn’t an easy opportunity to get, but you definitely wouldn’t mind sitting back and enjoying him get chewed out by Jameson.

But that was unimportant now as you made your way into The Daily Bugle’s building, savoring the air conditioning as your breath tumbled from your mouth. This picture and the eyewitness statements you took would create a story Jameson wouldn’t think twice about choosing, especially when Parker always came in late in the mornings.

Walking through your floor’s doors, photo pulled up on your phone, you quickly dropped your bag at your desk before making your way to pitch the idea to Jameson. You’d mentally written the first half of it on your walk here already.

Your steps faltered though as you neared the office, hearing your boss’s voice echoing through the office.

“Good work, Parker. Finish it by noon, and we’ll publish it today.”

He was already here? Silently, you gritted your teeth, peering into the room. And of course, out walked Parker, one hand holding papers and the other shoved in his pocket.

“The one day you’re on time… I can’t believe this,” you quietly muttered, feeling a weight sink into your stomach. His shoulders hung casually while yours raised up and down with your breaths. His half-smile made you stare daggers into him.

He just raised an eyebrow at you. “Good morning to you too, sunshine. Most people happen to love my presence.”

You silently ignored his nickname for you as you said, “Then most people must be lying to you. What story did you give him?” You pointed your head toward the office, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“So you can go in and try to one-up me?” He scoffed, his eyes annoyingly bright and warm. “No thanks.”

As he made to walk away, you grabbed his arm despite your aversion to being near him. Even the heat of his skin made you too warm, just another reason to stay away from Parker. “I lied to Jameson last week while you were off doing who-knows-what when you should’ve been working. Now what was the goddamn story?”

The sound of other employees talking and making coffee filled the background. If you could just beat him, you’d be part of them one day. So you didn’t let up, waiting for him to answer as he looked between your hand and your eyes. He shook off your touch after a moment.

You watched his jaw tick, his eyes roll to the back of his empty head. “Fine. And because I don’t think I could handle the second-hand embarrassment. I’ll tell you that if your story’s about whatever Spider-Man was up to this morning, you might want to skip telling Jameson.”

The grip on your phone loosened a bit, along with the hope you’d put into this — into trying to prove that you were a good reporter too. But, of course, you were always stuck finding stories on Spider-Man, and too late with them anyway. Anything else wasn’t important news, not at this company.

You tried, and failed, to keep your frustration from your voice as you asked, “And how did you get here before me with that story? You’re literally never here on time and just always have some bullshit idea that’s barely a story.”

Parker just gave a short laugh, smirking at you. “And yet… I still beat you. Kinda stings, huh?”

You gave a grumbled “Piss off” before letting him walk past you this time. You filled up your water bottle, headed to the bathroom, made small talk with some woman you’d immediately forgotten the name of — all distractions so you didn’t have to go back to the desk that sat much too close to Parker, especially while he worked on the story that should’ve been yours.

When you finally returned, you refused to look at a particular person across from you — the two intern desks only separated by a half wall. You just fished out your headphones at the cheap desk with no air conditioning under the city’s hot summer.  

A much-needed break from Spider-Man you gave to yourself, you continued working on a story you started researching last week. You’d gathered some statements and data about new unsafe water conditions in certain parts of the city. The story wouldn’t star on the front page of the website, or even the second. Third, if you were lucky.

The morning passed with minimal shouting coming from Jameson’s office and just a few “friendly” follow-up emails with sources you hadn’t heard back from. In the brief moments of silence between the end of one song and the beginning of another, you listened to traffic flowing through the streets below and the droning sounds of keyboards and the printer.

Only once you finished up the first draft of your article and turned to grab your notebook from a drawer did you notice a sticky note plastered on the edge of your desk. In messy handwriting, it said, “You type like a child bangs their fists on a piano” followed by a doodle of the sun, with sunglasses.

It wasn’t difficult to tell whose horrible scribbling this was. So after writing “Eat shit <3” on the back, you crumpled it up. You tossed it right at Parker’s face as you stood up, going to a meeting with one of the full-time writers here. Instead of knowing he caught it like always, you pretended it hit him right in the eye and gave him a papercut.

You didn’t look back as you approached Alice’s desk, the lead writer of the office. Her black curls bounced as she lifted her head, smiling at you. “Ready?”

“Yes, and thank you again for meeting with me,” you said, nodding with your notebook under your arm. She stood up, motioning you toward an empty office for the informational interview — mostly just asking her about her career in hopes it could help yours.

Sitting across from one another, you took notes as she spoke about herself and answered your many questions. Your writing filled one page after another, your wrist becoming sore but ignored under the weight of knowing this information could be important. When you asked what advice she would give to someone just starting out as a reporter, the silence that followed made you finally lift your head.

Alice looked at you with a soft smile while your pen stalled. “I would tell them that it’s not an easy career. And that it’s not for those without passion. You have to want this — and show it. The stories out there you want to tell… you can’t be afraid to search out the truth. ‘Leaving well enough alone’ has never been in my vocabulary.”

Your unfocused stare stayed on her while you processed those words… and the worry that you weren’t cut out for this work. There were stories you wanted to tell, but you couldn’t find the place to tell them. A cynical part of your mind shouted that maybe Parker did deserve the job at the end of this internship more than you.

The thoughts must have been evident on your face because Alice spoke again, her voice calm but stern. “Don’t worry. I see the passion in you. The best advice is to not let Jameson or anyone else stop you. ‘Kay?”

You nodded, unable to stop the smile on your face. So caught up in her words, you wrote down a condensed version of her answer: Follow your heart. Your thumb rubbed over the dried ink of the page, feeling the ridges of each letter. “Thank you, Alice. I’ll keep trying,” you said, and meant it. 

She let out a light laugh, the sound loosening the tight muscles in your shoulders. “You better. I’ve been rooting for you to get the job,” she whispered, giving a wink that had you laughing too.

“Well I can’t let you down then, can I?” Letting your smile fall just a little, the curve of it no longer touching your eyes, you silently hoped that you wouldn’t disappoint her. Thanking Alice again, you made your way back to your desk with too many thoughts running through your head.

Slow moments passed as you returned to your chair, the cheap thing squeaking underneath you with each movement. Still, you closed your eyes for a second, just feeling the cushion beneath you, the armrests under your hands, the backrest keeping you from collapsing. A breath filled your lungs, chest rising inch by inch. You would not wait for anyone’s permission to change the world — even if that just meant ignoring your lying thoughts to change your own little world.

Slowly, you went back through your notes, adding bits here and there that you missed while Alice had spoken. At the bottom, you just underlined her final advice… letting the words bleed into your body as you promised to keep them at the center of your stories.

It kept you focused on your article surrounding unsafe water quality in the city. Thankfully, the hours passed quickly, and you got the article up on the site by the end of the day. All with minimal interruptions from Parker — despite another sticky note that said “Thanks for the granola bar ;)” on it. And sure enough, the granola bar you had on your desk was no longer there, but you silently tossed the note in the garbage without letting him know he got to you.

Though, with no snack, your stomach was definitely grumbling as you packed up. So you made the trek to a cafe with your backpack on, one headphone in, and a middle finger aimed toward Parker when he tried talking to you, a smirk plastered on his face that told you he had nothing important or nice to say.

The summer heat hit you as you exited the building, making you strip off your office-appropriate blazer. Still, you didn’t mind the sunlight after spending all day inside. Your music drifted into your ear, the beat of it matching your steps. You turned the volume down once making it into the bakery with the best after-work treat, the pink sign outside painted with cursive words: “Pat’s Pastries.”

Baked bread and sweet chocolate filled your nose, the smell helping you forget about work for a minute. You ordered your favorite cookie, pointing to the biggest one behind the glass. Silently, you ignored the whole tray of Spider-Man themed cookies they’d begun selling after the superhero saved the store from a robbery.

Instead, you just left the shop with a bite of the cookie already in your mouth. It practically melted on your tongue, tasting better than any granola bar Parker could steal from you. The cookie lasted you all the way home, filling you with a pleasant warmth.

In your apartment, you stood in the entryway for a moment. With slow movements, you removed your shoes, setting down all of your things. You’d only been collapsed on your couch for a few minutes before your phone vibrated. Part of you thought to ignore it and let the weight of your heavy eyelids drag you into a nap, but you knew it could be work. A groan came from your throat as you saw that it was work — a comment left on your article already.

People that commented on these pieces often had few nice things to say, so you braced yourself upon opening the site. Your thumb slid across the screen until you reached the bottom. Left by some guest user, the comment simply read: “What’s new? Beaumont fumbles again…”

Beaumont. Ellis Beaumont, the current city manager. He’d certainly faced as much backlash as any other official since he’d taken over five years ago, but you hadn’t considered him all that much when researching for this article. Did he have to do with poor water conditions in the city?

Before you could stop yourself, your hands went to your laptop. Your fingers typed across the keyboard, searching for relations between him and other issues the city faced recently. What came up most often was Beaumont’s press releases after most of them. His salt and pepper hair sat tightly cut to his head, no specks of dust visible on his expensive-looking suits. In each one, he stated how he and his team would work on fixing the problem — from unaffordable housing to upgrading technology throughout the city.

It wasn’t new to see a leader promise to do something and not follow through, but something kept sticking with you while you researched. At some point, between the sun falling behind the city skyline and ordering takeout to be delivered, you found yourself with dozens of open tabs and tired eyes.

Raking a hand down your face, you let out a long sigh. You finished reading another speech where he promised to fix something, crumbling infrastructure this time — “if only we had the funds!” And cue the part where he asked for donations to his nonprofit organization or proposed a government plan that would cost the citizens in tax money. Yet… hadn’t he raised the money? The last you’d checked, the street he’d mentioned repairing still had its potholes and unusable sidewalks.

A knocking on your door brought you to it, your eyes never leaving your computer screen. You just grabbed your food and paid the deliverer with a mumbled “thanks” before walking back to the laptop.

As quickly as you could, you yanked out your notebook from your bag and wrote down everything about Ellis Beaumont — before your food got cold. Your wrist ached again as you flipped the page, continuing to fill the lines with his career, his promises, and his letdowns.

Each of his projects toward bettering the city came with asking for money — money that didn’t show back up in the work. He’d made no updates as to how much he had raised or how he was going to use it. At the end of your notes, you wrote down in heavy ink: “Where is Ellis Beaumont’s money going??”

And even as you ate, trying to watch the comfort show you’d put on, your mind kept working in the background. Had others not also wondered this? Or if they had, did he have them in his pocket already? Sleep fought you that night, making you toss and turn in bed. But you had a story.

–

Walking into The Daily Bugle, you ‘clocked in’ (let Jameson see you in the office) and dropped off your bag. With just your notes, a pen, and a granola bar so no one would steal it, you made your way back out of the building.

Right before you made it from the office, though, a mop of dark hair appeared at the door. A small part of you wanted to somehow hide, the other part unable to resist the draw of him for whatever reason. But Parker chose for you, his eyes lighting up when they caught on your form. Your following scowl was enough to make him laugh.

“There she is, our lovely sunshine,” he said, leaning against the door frame. You ignored the sarcasm dripping through his words.

Instead, you raised your eyebrows and told him, “If Jameson asks, I’m out researching a story. Got it?” 

“Woah, woah, woah.” Parker pushed off the frame. His smirk was enough to set you off, but then he held out a hand to block you from passing. Behind your unyielding glare, you secretly hoped he tripped over his untied shoelaces or smashed his hand in the office printer. As he came closer to you, he asked, “Where are you off to? I haven’t seen any sightings of Spider-Man.”

“That’s a shame,” you said, uninterested. Grabbing his forearm, accidentally feeling the hard muscle underneath, you moved it out of your way. “Have fun getting him coffee!” You shouted it over your shoulder, leaving him standing there while you ignored the heat on your palm from touching his skin. 

You shook your hand out, waving away the memory as you took the subway over to City Hall. It had to be as good as any place to start researching where the city’s money went after Ellis Beaumont flashed a white smile and pocketed it. He probably wouldn’t talk with you, but anything to get you closer would be worth it.

Emerging from the subway station, your eyes squinted against the brightness. Still morning, the heat hadn’t settled in yet — just leaving you with a sunny walk and a nice breeze.

The building’s intimidating size rose high toward the sky. A statue of justice, a woman holding scales and a sword, stood atop City Hall — staring down at each person as you entered the front doors. The ornate architecture and grand staircase inside didn’t help settle the daunting feeling crawling in your stomach.

Still, you walked up to the man sitting behind the front desk there, trying to look as friendly as possible. Smoothing out your outfit and putting a smile on, you said, “Hi.”

He looked up with a classic customer service grin to greet you. “Hello, how can I help you?” he asked, leaning toward you slightly.

You kept your shoulders back, mustering some sort of confidence in your investigation. How would Alice do this?

With a clear voice, you directly asked, “If I was looking for records of donations for a government-related nonprofit, would they be here? I couldn’t seem to find them online.” You gave him an unassuming look.

“Typically, but what nonprofit were you looking at?” he asked, typing something into his computer. You took out your notebook low enough that he couldn’t see past the desk.

Pretending to rack your brain for the name, you said, “I think it’s called Stronger Together. I love being able to see where my donation goes — it helps make me feel closer to the community, you know?”

Your hand ready to write fell limp when his mouth pressed tight, his eyes leaving the screen to meet yours. “Ah,” he said, “Well Mr. Beaumont is not always able to update that information, as he has many responsibilities to maintain.”

“Of course, I understand. Though, I also noticed that the recent infrastructure project has yet to be enacted. Is there an update on that?” You willed your voice to stay steady, to be unwavering under the impatient gaze of this man.

A muscle seemed to twitch in his jaw. “I don’t believe the organization has given one, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been working on it. He is a very busy man.”

“Busy enough that I wouldn’t be able to speak with him directly?”

“I’m afraid not,” he said, shaking his head, but he didn’t seem too sorry at all. “We could take your number for him to call you when he’s available, but…”

“He’s very busy,” you finished, giving a smile as you bit back a pained sigh. “That’ll be okay, I’m happy to have helped the cause.”

“Yes, and we’re very thankful for your donation.” The tight grin he gave looked like it hurt his cheeks to make.

“Well, thank you for the information,” you said. Just as you were about to leave, beginning to leave with nothing to show for the story, you turned back. “I know this is quite specific, but would you know what Mr. Beaumont’s next project is?”

Another flicker of impatience flashed across the man’s face, his hands clasping together. “No, I wouldn’t, but I’m sure it will be a great help to the city whatever it is. I think there may be a nonprofit fundraiser this weekend… but those are typically closed events — for investors and friends,” he said, his smile turning less warm by the minute. “You can donate online anytime.”

“Great, thank you,” you muttered before turning around, frantically jotting the little information you received down in your notes while walking away. You swore you could feel the man’s eyes on you until you slipped out the doors. 

The entire ride back to the office, this story ate away at you. Everyone seemed to be keeping information on Beaumont’s money close to their chests, even about what his supposed nonprofit was really doing.

‘Stronger Together.’ You rolled your eyes, beginning to feel like he was the only one getting stronger. And he was having another fundraiser so soon? Probably for something like conservation this time — his team would likely make a whole show of planting a couple trees and get praised for it. 

As soon as you got back to The Daily Bugle, you ignored everything as you dropped into your chair and opened your computer. Your fingers flew over the keyboard to type up the notes, both for decoding your scribbled words and ensuring you kept the information in multiple places. You tried tuning out the background chatter and the gnawing worry that this whole story would lead to a dead end, but you couldn’t ignore everything…

“Whatcha typin’ there?” Parker said as he swiveled his chair around the desks to look at you. Glancing for a moment at him, you saw the shit-eating smile pointed your way.

Your face flashed a fake grin. “Your resignation letter, Parker.” You continued typing, not responding to his quiet scoff. But then he stood up, his steps gentle against the floor. He towered over you as he came around to look at your screen.

Before he could even reach your desk, you switched tabs to a blank page. Without glancing up at him, you silently waited for him to stop watching you. It worked well enough at first, your mind happily turning blank instead of entertaining him. 

But he put his hand on the edge of your desk, his body now much too close to yours. The warm scent of him washing over you had your skin prickling, your fingernails pressing into your palm.

Barely heard above the blood rushing past your ears, his voice came out quieter than you’d expected. “So secretive. You won’t even share with me?”

Ignoring the glint of smugness on his face, you turned to look up at him. “So you can try to one-up me? No thanks,” you repeated, using his words from yesterday. 

“But given my track record for front-page stories, I’m sure you could definitely use my help.” Parker shoved a hand in his pocket, winking at you with those stupid dark eyes. In that moment, you wondered whether you could somehow frame him for helping Spider-Man and get Jameson to tackle him. 

So caught up in that happy fantasy, you didn’t catch Parker’s other hand creeping across the desk until he’d already snatched your notebook. And before you could even stand to grab it back, his leg came up and pushed on one of your desk chair’s armrests, sending it spinning.

While your legs tried stopping the chair, you heard him say, “How are you even able to read this? Okay, I won’t tell Jameson, but you’ve gotta be honest with me: do you know how to write? Or read, for that matter.”

“I was walking while taking notes– whatever, Parker. I don’t need to explain myself to your dumbass,” you whisper yelled at him, stalking over to his side of the desks. But he moved the notebook away, cocking his head to the side.

With a grin that told you just how much fun he was having, he said, “Huh, I didn’t know your pretty little head knew how to multi-task.”

You opened your mouth for a second, processing that he called you pretty, before rolling your eyes. “Must be hard to imagine anything with your smooth brain. Now give me my notebook back.” 

In the background, you heard Jameson screaming to some poor soul on the phone. You hoped it at least covered up your bickering with Parker. But it wouldn’t be able to drown out the sound of you strangling him, which you were now seriously considering as he held up a finger to you. 

In a calmer voice, he asked, “Are you really doing a piece on Ellis Beaumont?”

Scoffing, you reached over and grabbed your notebook from his grasp. He didn’t seem to put up much of a fight, hopefully mentally perceiving the threats running through your mind. As you returned to your desk, you glanced once more at him — and got caught on something in the look he gave you.

“Yes,” you told him before sitting down, leaving Parker and any distractions on that side of the half-wall. The last thing you heard was a sigh before you put your headphones in.

For the rest of the day, you finished writing up your notes and your other assigned work. In between projects, you secretly continued researching everything you could about Beaumont and where those donations went. Site after site returned empty, most of them just filled with propaganda for his non-profit.

With weary eyes and a fuzzy mind, you finally found something as everyone in the office began to finish up. You wiped a hand down your face, a weight lifting from your shoulders when you discovered an address.

Searching through countless websites, some of which you probably shouldn’t have been using your work computer for, you combed through records of donations to Stronger Together. Most listed City Hall or Beaumont’s address in their donation. But one other address continued popping up more than a few times — somewhere in upper Manhattan, far from where the organization would operate from.

If you were listening to Alice’s advice to follow your heart, you would’ve stayed home. Your pounding pulse yelled at you that going to check out this address after sunset was the worst idea you’d ever had.

On your walk home and all through dinner, you pushed back against the trickling fear down your spine — caused by the ice-cold voice in the corners of your mind filled with every worst-case scenario. It only grew louder as you neared the address. 

You hadn’t done much field work before, or any that hadn’t just involved taking blurry pictures of Spider-Man and making New Yorkers talk to you. As you walked along the sidewalk with your shoes tapping against the cracked concrete, following the directions on your phone, you wondered whether you were cut out for this. You kept your head on a swivel and senses alert, but did you have any clue what you were going to do once you reached the building? No, not really.

You had come after dark, so breaking in certainly didn’t seem out of the question. And as much as you disliked thinking about him, knowing that Parker wouldn’t back away from this if he were here kept your legs moving. 

Before long, with a warm breeze at your back, you came up to a large warehouse. It sat in a pretty empty area — one with few people around that you could see. A few street lamps illuminated the space around it, the light stretching down a small alleyway next to the building. Craning your neck, you began walking down it, seeing whether you could peer in anywhere.

Your fingers brushed along the building’s side as you passed by several dark windows. Unable to spot anything through them, you crept toward the back. No workers, or anyone really, seemed to be there. Nothing except for a metal fire escape. It seemed to lead up to a door with more windows lining either side. Fluorescent lighting shone from inside. 

Swallowing hard, you forced your body to walk toward it. Each step you took up went slowly, trying to keep your feet silent as you climbed the stairs. Under the weight of the stars and night sky, even with the sounds of traffic passing by, each breath felt too loud.

Silently wishing to anyone that’d listen, you hoped no one stood on the other side as you slowly looked in. But you only found boxes — not all that surprising, but disappointment mingled with the relief coursing through your muscles. 

Hundreds of boxes sat throughout the warehouse, lining countless shelves. You made a guess that they probably weren’t storing any tools for fixing the infrastructure like Beaumont promised. But you wouldn’t be able to find out what they held without breaking in, something you didn’t think your nerves could take.

Though… someone else could show you what’s inside. 

From the corner of your eye, you saw a brief movement along the floor of the building. Someone moved into view, dressed in a black uniform and holding a clipboard in their hands. They walked to a shelf you could just barely see and opened up one of the boxes. They set the clipboard aside to pull out something… long and metal. At the end appeared to be a claw of some sort–

Internally, you winced, instantly able to recognize it from all your articles. It was one of Doc Ock’s arms. The other side was full of fraying wires, no doubt ripped apart from a fight with Spider-Man. God, why did everything always have to come back to Spider-Man? 

And, in that moment, you must’ve pissed off some god of fate to deserve this irony. As you were about to pull out your phone to capture the evidence, your thought alone summoned the man. A web attached to the worker, the other end coming from the red and blue superhero crouched on a support beam. Within a second, he pulled them up to the ceiling and cocooned them in webbing to dangle there — the scene forcing an involuntary gasp escape your lips.

Spider-Man had jumped down with supernatural grace and looked like he was going to investigate the box further, but whipped his head toward you at your gasp. Your heart crawled into your throat, your hand snapping up to cover your mouth.

Racing down the fire escape, your scrambled thoughts tumbling around your head, you hurried back to the street away from what you’d witnessed. But before you could leave the alleyway, a flash of those dreaded shades of red and blue dropped down in front of you — your feet stumbling backward as you barely kept a startled scream from coming out.

“Hey, hey. Not here to hurt you. I do the opposite actually,” Spider-Man said, his hands up to show you he meant no harm. His voice sounded unnaturally deep, but blood rushed past your ears, clouding your senses. You shook your head slightly, trying to focus on getting out of there.

“But uh…” he continued, cautiously taking a single step closer, “I don’t think you live at this address. Is that right?”

You absentmindedly chewed on the inside of your cheek, debating on how much to tell him. He’d caught you sneaking around, but was that technically even a crime? Most likely. But clearly, you both were after some pretty similar things. So, while nodding your head toward the warehouse, you quietly asked, “What’s in there?”

His head tilted to the side as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Some no-no things. Which is probably why I should handle it, right?”

“Handle it how? By handing it over to the police?” you asked, a small jolt of panic rising in your chest. “What if it connects to something larger?” Your questions assumed that he didn’t exactly know where this warehouse came from and how it connected to Beaumont, but maybe not. Still, you couldn’t risk cutting this whole thing off early and breaking the investigation apart… and the story.

“Does it connect to something larger?” he asked, his gaze never seeming to leave you. You couldn’t tell much behind his mask, but the weight of those white eyes stayed focused on your face. They watched every microexpression crossing your face, despite the urge to hide from them.

Knowing you needed him on your side, or at least to not cover you in webs, you gave him a little more. Nodding, you said “Yeah, I think it does. I’m not sure how it all fits, but…”

“But?”

Pursing your lips, you let a breath pass before answering him. Jameson would kill you if he knew you were having this whole conversation without taking ‘photographic evidence’ and helping out Spider-Man. But that man was a prick anyway.

Letting out a long sigh, you said, “Check out Ellis Beaumont’s non-profit. I don’t think the donations are going where he says they are.”

He just cocked his head, but you moved around him, ready to leave this place and those watchful eyes. Your gaze avoided his as he let you pass toward the street, though he yelled out, “Do you need me to walk you home?” You just waved him off, your pace picking up. Still, he shouted a “Thank you!” for the information as you made the journey back to your apartment.

Unable to calm your body back to normal just yet, you found yourself jumping at every noise around you until your apartment door locked behind you. What you’d seen ran through your head again and again. 

What did Beaumont want with Spider-Man? Or was he working with the villains to get rid of Spider-Man? His money couldn’t just be going toward costume dress-up storage, but breaking into that warehouse alone was out of the question for you. Leave it to the superhero rather than risk your neck.

Your brain racked itself for answers, working to figure out what interest Spider-Man had in showing up at that warehouse anyway. Even into the next morning, these thoughts plagued your mind. It left you in a haze as you entered The Daily Bugle — the noise of the coffee machine and Jameson’s muffled yelling more distracting than usual.

Even more offputting was that sat at your desks was Parker, the second time he’d ever beaten you into the office. Immediately, his eyes found yours, but you didn’t have the energy to give him a sneer or a smart-ass comment. You just started up your computer, planning to type up your notes again. Your hand rubbed down your face as you waited for it to turn on, already anticipating the inevitable interruption.

Sure enough, Parker stuck his head over the half-wall, leaning his forearms along the top of it. His chin rested on them as he said, “You look rough.”

Without raising your eyes to him, you let out a long sigh. “Wow… Thanks,” you said, letting an unimpressed look take over your face. You opened your notebook, turning to the pages where you wrote every piece of information you could remember after the events last night.

Parker raised his hands up in surrender, as if he hadn’t insulted your appearance. “Jus’ saying, you seem a bit stressed. Need any help, sunshine?”

At that, you finally raised your gaze to meet his — his ruffled hair dipping over his forehead while waiting for your response. 

You squinted your eyes at him, your eyebrows furrowing at his words. “...I’m not letting you take this story from me, Parker.”

“Hey, I could merely co-author this story with you,” he offered with that smirk of his. “And I’m sick of writing about Spider-Man’s favorite restaurants to order from. C’mon.” He dragged out the word, practically begging you.

Crossing your arms across your chest, you considered him for a moment and his offer. His mouth tightened, drawing your gaze down to his lips and the sharpness of his jaw. Not the time.

“You really want to help me?” When he nodded, you still didn’t believe him. With a scoff, you asked, “Are you going soft on me?”

A sharp laugh escaped his mouth. “Don’t get used to it. This would cost you a week’s worth of granola bars.”

“Aren’t you the one asking to join?” you questioned with a smile you couldn’t hide. When he didn’t budge despite his ridiculous demand, you just muttered, “I’ll think about it.”

The long groan he gave as he sat back down told you how he felt about your answer, but it was easier to ignore now that he wasn’t staring at you. Why he was so interested in this story made no sense to you — not that you thought about it long as you finally typed up your notes. 

Instead, you tried to figure out where to go next, where this warehouse might lead you. But a growing fear told you that it wouldn’t lead anywhere, your research online not giving you someone to question or even contact information for Beaumont. This politician seemed to keep things annoyingly tight under wraps. 

As minutes slipped away while you ran into dead end after dead end in your searching, you internally debated whether to accept Parker’s help. Waves crashed in your stomach, the tide receding far away as if in anticipation of a tsunami — one threatening to destroy you. Letting him in meant risking your story, and risking the chance that he could get all the credit for your work.

As much as you hated the idea of sharing this with him, part of you thought you might’ve been in over your head. Especially after the run-in last night. And Parker certainly knew his stuff… sometimes. Not that you’d tell him that.

It was only once your search about Beaumont and that warehouse frustratingly turned up blank once more that you let out a sigh. It seemed it’d be a story with him or no story at all.

“Parker?” you called across the desks. 

The sound of his chair shifting joined his raspy, “Yeah?” You bit back a grin as you realized you’d woken him up from one of his frequent work naps. When he swiveled into view, the red spot on his cheek from where he must’ve laid it on his arms confirmed your suspicions. 

Still, you had to clear your tight throat before telling him, “You can help. But only if my name goes first, got it?” Before he could respond, you followed with, “And I take the lead on things, okay?” Your stare pierced his eyes, silently begging him to not take this from you.

The small laugh he gave loosened your tense shoulders just a bit, made your fists unclench. “Whatever you say goes…” he said, nodding with the most honest look you’d seen from him. “With some exceptions though. Cause you have a lot of bad ideas I’d like to veto.”

You wondered whether asking for Peter Parker’s help was one of those terrible, idiotic ideas. You hoped not.

@reidslovely

#peter parker #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfic #peter parker enemies to lovers #andrew garfield #tasm andrew garfield #tasm!peter #tasm peter parker #tasm spiderman #spiderman #spider-man #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader

[thebelugawhalefriend]

The Men Before The Rose - Yan!Royal Harem x Reader

PART ONE

CW: RELIGIOUS THEMES, EXECUTION MENTIONS, Homophobia

Note: This is a sequel to the first story! An expansion into Rose's heritage and how the world works for them. As someone pointed out, it's rather sudden how the homophobia shows itself and comes off as unartful. So! This will mostly dive into the division about same sex couples.

Months passed before you could consider yourself okay again. The isolation from your family and friends was something you slowly had to overcome the pain of. It still stings like an arrow to the heart, but living on was the least you could do for yourself.

In the meantime, you decide to busy yourself with finding the history of the royals. Rose isn't too excited to share in his own history, only providing you one book. Even given the sparse information Rose would provide, his family's long time rule was no mere feat to scoff at. What draws your attention most is his direct father, Aquila. Upon seeing his name on one of the pages, you turn to read the chapter dedicated to his reign.

Before our red haired king had assumed the throne, Aquila Florian sat upon the gilded seat of power. Hair as golden as the rays of sun, eyes a similar shade. No man nor woman could even compare to his mere size- Murals along the castle walls could only paint his figure from the top of his chest if they wished to paint his face!

By his side was his appointed wife that he named Tyto. Her previous first name has been erased from our records, but his command ruled that her name be changed to fit his rigid structure. In fact, much of his rule came from...

The book quickly proved itself to be a rather boring account of events. But, there is perhaps another way to experience the story. You close the leather book in your hands and set it onto the dresser, lifting up and wandering out of the bedroom.

"My Lady, to where shall I accompany you?" You're well aware of the guard outside of the room, and yet he never ceases to surprise you when you step out. "I told you before, you can call me (Y/N)..."

"Not when you've been wed to the king. I've been ordered to call you Lady and nothing more."

"Then... Alright, I don't wish to cause you trouble. Do you think you could guide me to Rose's study?"

The iron clad guard pauses for a moment, "His... His study is more than private, Your Grace. I wouldn't be allowed to lead you there- much less fulfill my duty to your care."

You shake your head a little. It's always been this excuse time and time again, "Is it a sin to want to know more about the man I married? About the family I am part of now?"

"With all due respect, not even Queen Florian has ventured within the study. I cannot let you violate the trust of the king- nay, your husband..."

"He's violated my own trust the day he commanded I stay within these walls and never see anyone I care for again. I'm not just asking as a..." You struggle to utter the mere words, "As a royal, but as a confused human being... Please, I must see the study."

The walk to Rose's study was short, but the tension made it seem like hours. Charles is anything but a hard hearted man. A tender gentleman just above your own height. While he was commanded to keep watch by the threat of death, he couldn't bear to see another moment pass with you longing for more.

"Thank you... Thank you so so-"

"Please make it swift, My Lady. Rose will return in a few hours."

You nod, easily slipping into the unlocked study.

Creeeaaaakkk....

The oakwood door moans as it reveals the room to you. It took your eyes but a moment to adjust to the darkness inside, but there's no mistaking what you're seeing. The eerily large room holds plenty of large murals that paint the elongated walls. Moonlight mixed with dim flames of the torches just barely illuminates the inside from behind you, but God almighty you want to see more.

"I'll need light..."

Closing the door carefully, you snatch yourself a candle from one of the nearby side tables and hold it to a lit torch. After all, no noble could leave their castle barren of a lighting system. It takes you little time to slip right back in and start to walk along the hall of artwork. Strangely enough, this didn't feel like a study. No, this felt like a room dedicated to telling the tale of their rule. You can animate in your head just what each painting told...

Men upon horses trample over others of their own kind. White stallions proudly sported iron clad warriors upon their backs, while at their hooves were unarmored and weaponless men. Swords glowed a beaming sun yellow to declare a holy victory to claim the land they fought for.

A man with white hair stands over a crowd of adoring people and dogs. What's strange is that the dogs stand on hind legs and praise him as if they themselves are human. Horses behind the crowd also cheer for him, but all four hooves stay connected to the ground.

A single long line connects a chain of kings, each one holding a link within a golden chain. Most sport blonde hair and blue eyes, but the last king stands as an outlier. He holds golden eyes and curled red locks. Under them each is a name, but most of the older ones were too faded to read. 'Raven Florian/Lady Mourn - Aquila Florian/Lady Tyto - Rose Florian/Lady Azalea/Lady (Y/N)'.

Even if the third one isn't the last, you take a long pause to look upon the names. Your new marriage has quite literally been set in stone. Painted with your name under the striking red haired man. Yet, you keep going. You must know more about them! What stops you is the hall widening into a rather quaint room. Now this looks a lot more like a study, with a large red chair sat in the midst of bookshelves and a messy desk of papers and a journal. It's the desk you're drawn to first, picking up the most worn out journal upon it.

"Blank?" You look on the cover. The only thing even describing what could be inside were the initials AF written on the leather cover's corner. "What could you be hiding?" You set your candle close and sit down, starting to read the pages inside.

Day of 30th, December, 1201

Today has transpired like any other. My breakfast was rather lean, but I can't complain when dinner is to be grand.

You laugh softly at such an inconspicuous entry. Maybe this would be a silly little journal of thoughts. Most follow such an idea, but some entries catch your attention more than others.

Day of 14th, April, 1202

Joanne of Jonstown has been captured.

Your eyebrows knot in confusion, turning to the page behind it.

Date of 12th, April, 1202

A grand disturbance has taken place at Noble Stewart's wedding. A strange rogue appeared and objected to the union, disgracing the ceremony to declare a disgusting lust for his wife. Any sane man would have wrung her neck on the spot, but the rat got away before he could catch her. It's no matter to him now. I have hired Jasper and his men to bring her to justice. With any luck, he could receive his own spot here by my side...

Date of 15th, April, 1202

Her execution has been dated for three days from now. I suggested we string and quarter her for her sins, but my royal advisor suggested I treat her not as a mere criminal. Rather, we could give her the same treatment as we do for suspected dark arts users. Not only will this serve as a painful death one like her deserves, but will also set the further precedent for what is to come of unlawful relations. If one is to partake in disturbing the union of a man and a woman for their own desires, they are to be burned at the stake. I have no quarrel with what the royal advisor pointed me to, and have let him write the law. It's on her execution day that I shall decree this law and set it into swift motion.

With an uneasy hand, you turn it to one of the final pages.

Date of 18th, April, 1202

The law has been set, and all was well. Not a single soul objected to the law while the spectacle took place. The

"Have you no respect for my personal space?" You immediately shift your eyes from the book to see those familiar golden eyes looking upon you with scorn. Dim candle light in his hand flickering and lighting up the underside of his displeased face. His figure draws closer as you retreat into yourself.

"I-I'm sorry, Rose! I wanted to know more- I-"

"My father's words are about as much history as murderers are innocent!" He practically roars, snatching the journal away and towering over your frame. "I gave you the resource you wanted... I gave you all you could ever want to know. This?" He holds up the book, "These are the ravings of a madman that no person should EVER learn from!"

"Learn from?" You start to rise from your position, a little offended by his assumption, "I wanted to learn ABOUT your family! Is it not my right to know what my children will be born into? What I tie myself to?"

"My father's words and thoughts have died with him. There is no need to continue learning from his example."

Standing up from your position, you place a finger to his chest and start walking him backwards. "You can't hide what your family has done to innocent people! Your father was a horrible-"

"I KNOW!"

His right hand drops the journal, latching onto your shoulder to allow his anger to set deep within. The glow from his candle dims to let the dark features of his anger settle in.

"I know he was a horrible man. He ordered the execution of many people who did not deserve it. If he knew of what I have now... He would surely kill me." Rose sighs, letting you go and setting down his fading candle. "I come from a line of men who claim to know their faith. Who hoped that persecuting the innocent would cure them of their own sins. You want to know what I think?" He looks to the book on the desk with a wicked snarl. "I think they're all burning in hell for the rest of their days. My father, his father, and the ones who came before. The men he hired that still work in the castle? They too will burn for being so stuck in their ways..."

You place a hand under his chin, bringing him to look at you. "It's no use to hide the history of your lineage. You are the result of those men, whether you like it or not." He tries to butt in, but you're quick to pause his interruption. "But what they've done doesn't make you a horrible man. It's what you do now that truly matters, does it not? You wouldn't have executed them. You let my mothers live in peace despite the law your father put into place..."

With a hefty sigh, he cups your face and finally draws out a smile upon his own. "You still violated my trust, dearest. I didn't want you to wander..."

"You assume I'd be content staying in one room for the rest of my years." Your teasing is bold, but his laugh was moreso. "I suppose you're right. Come then, I guess I owe you a proper tour of our home." As you both approach the doorway, you pause for a moment in thought.

"What is to become of Charles?"

"Ah... Him. He can't go unpunished for disobeying my order, my dear."

Your blood runs ice cold, but Rose is quick to try and soothe your tense worry, "Calm yourself! He's not going to be executed- Lord almighty, did you forget my whole point of not being my father? He'll spend some time thinking over his betrayal and punished as severely as the crime calls for. Which... Isn't too cruel."

"Will he continue to serve for us?"

"That remains to be seen. Come! I'll show you to the bottom floor!"

#yandere #yandere x reader #reader insert #x reader #yandere crush #imagines #yandere x you #yandere x y/n #yandere x darling

[atinyjules]

Hi, I saw your post about Lee Rang and have a request.

Lee Rang rescues dogs. Or animals in general. Maybe he still kills the evil previous owners. But Lee Rang with animals is so soft.

Thank you~ <3

I.F.L.Y - LEE RANG

First of all...YOUR REQUEST IS SOOO CUTE!🌼

So without further a do let's get started already! I am so sorry cause I literally went a little of track here.

Thank you for requesting🌼

Genre: fluff, romance, fantasy au, enemies to lovers trope, crack au

Pairings: Lee Rang x Named reader.

Warnings: Shouting, fighting and swearing.

Okay so hear me out, Rang with animals is just Σ>―(〃°ω°〃)♡→ cause he is soft af.

At first glance you're like "Wtf is he doing in the middle of the city with a puppy in his arms?" cause the both of you had a bad history together. It all started when you decided to join his brother Lee Yeon's side after you realised that he was blinded by revenge. And of course Rang being Rang did not take it well.

So y'all fought real bad and he accused you of betrayal and abandoning him saying that you were "just like the rest". Since then, things became bad between the both of you. Even though you left him, a tiny bit your heart still couldn't erase him from your memories part of the reason lies in the fact that you loved him...romantically.

Of course you being you couldn't help but coo and be disgusted at the sight of Rang holding a puppy who looked 2x times smaller in his arms.

It all began when you came out of the house to go get your monthly supply of banana milk from the convenience store and when you were going back home you came across Rang splayed across the concrete. Being the curious person you were, you decided to wait a bit and see what he trying to do.

After 30 minutes of laying on the ground near the sewer, Rang finally stood up all dirty, holding a dirty puppy who he smiled and coddled.

"Do you know how much trouble you could've gotten in if you fell in deeper? You're lucky I was just passing by...but you're safe now~" Rang cooed as you stood there in disbelief watching as Rang wrapped the shivering puppy with his jacket.

"How is that brat capable of being this soft to animals?" you asked yourself as you went home.

After that for the next week you don't come across Rang even once, not even a little cameo. So your mind was racing with bizarre excuses as to why he wasn't around.

"Why is he not coming to bug me? Did something happen to him? Did he die? Was he finally leaving me alone?"

Wait...first of all...why am I even worried for him? I thought to myself as I took notice of the golden pendant around my neck.

"If he's my enemy and I am his enemy...why do I still wear the pendant he gifted me and why is he still holding on to the ring I gifted him?" You asked youself as you fiddled with the golden heart pendant that you had a special memory with.

Noeul's

Flashback

"Here." I looked up at the golden heart shaped pendant that Rang held out to me while avoiding eye contact.

"What's this for?" I asked as I took it and patted the surface of the heart.

"You said that you wanted to own something pretty and expensive like other girls your age so...that can be it...don't lose it. It's made of pure gold." he said making me gasp.

"You're kidding!" I exclaimed and held it out towards the sun.

"Where did you steal it from?!" I asked earning a smack on the head from Rang.

"Idiot! I didn't steal it!....I got it made for you...it has yours and my initials engraved in it." he said as I looked at the carvings that said R&N.

"Why a heart shape though?" I asked as he sighed.

"You said that hearts were only for people important to you so I got it made in the shape of a heart." he said as a light shade of crimson adorned his face making me smile.

"So, I'm important to you?" I asked him with a smile as he huffed.

"Of course you are!" he said and looked away.

End of Flashback

I sighed and let my pendant fall back to its place around my neck.

"I guess I really am a traitor..." I mumbled to myself when a voice caught me off guard causing a shriek to leave my mouth.

"Yeah you are, I'm surprised it took you this long to come to your senses." I looked up to see Rang seated on my lounge chair with a cup of coffee in his hand.

"Will you stop barging in out of nowhere?!" I exclaimed and clutched my chest as he sighed.

"And will you stop questioning where our friendship has ended up at?" he said catching me off guard.

"Yah...were you eavesdropping again?!" I said as he took a sip of his coffee.

"You were the one who left me first so why are you regretting now?" he asked me without answering my question causing me to become speechless as I tried to change the topic.

"Why did you save the puppy from the sewer that day? That's unlike you." I asked trying to change the subject as I saw him falter a little.

"How much did you see?" he asked as I smirked.

"Everything." I said as he groaned.

"You were always so nosy." he said as I felt my anger boil.

"Oh so now we're spilling sudden honest opinions about each other huh?" I questioned as I stood up.

"Yeah, but wasn't it obvious? You were nosy to begin with." he said as I scoffed.

"Yeah like you didn't have any flaws, you were always so moody and attention seeking!" I said as he stood infront of me.

"Yah, shut your mouth." he said slightly raising his voice.

"No, I won't! You started it!" I exclaimed, raising my voice as well.

"I hate you!" He exclaimed as I pushed him lightly.

"Then why do you still wear the ring I got you?" I questioned as the heat of the moment caused an unexpected answer to come out of Rang's mouth.

"Because I fucking love you! So why do you still wear the pendant I made you?!" he asked as I exclaimed.

"Because I fucking love you too, you brat!" I blurted out as we glared at each other when realisation hit us like a truck.

"What-" We said in unison as our expressions cut off each other's words.

"I-I...let's just act as though that didn't happen." I said as he nodded.

"Agreed...we do not speak of this to anyone including ourselves...alright?" he asked as I nodded.

Another two weeks went by and I found myself in Rang's house with him as we fed the dogs and cats after he called me over for a chat.

"So...why do you rescue them?" I asked as he looked away.

"Someone once told me that every living thing that breathes and exists around us has a right to live happily like us...so we should help them..." he said quoting the words I once told him.

"Do you...kill the owners?" I asked after realising that one of them had a tag.

"For some situations...yes...I had to, or else they'd do the same to other animals." he said as I picked up a puppy.

Rang's

As we sat around the animals in silence I was deep in my thoughts when Noeul brought me back to reality by picking up a puppy and patting its head.

"Looks like Rang took great care of you..." She talked to the pup with a soft and loving tone making me soften as I got the courage I needed.

"Hey, Noeul...look, I'm sorry about everything that happened between us over the years and about what I said-" I was about to speak when she cut me off.

"Rang...I like-no...I love you so much...I loved you then and I love you even more now..." I felt my eyes widen at the sudden confession as I looked at Noeul who had focussed her attention to the puppy.

"I-I....I love you even more...the whole reason of me getting you that pendant was to confess but I chickened out at the last moment." I said causing her to look up at me with a surprised look as she smiled.

"So...we're cool now?" she asked as I pulled her by her shoulder and kissed her forehead ever so softly.

"Yeah." He said as we sat where we were and looked at the puppies and kittens with our hands.

_______________________

That's the end!

#lee rang imagines #lee rang x reader #lee rang ffs #lee rang imagine masterlist #totnt 1938 #totnt #fluff au #lee rang fics #lee rang x reader fics

[jimin-day]

Stare At Me

Part 2

Summary: You frequent a coffee shop only to be met with his dark eyes every time.

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

WordCount:

Genre/tags:

A/n: Part 2 has been sitting in my drafts for ~3 years. I have not been able to finish it and so I decided to release it to you guys. I'm sorry I haven't been able to finish, or even be present here. So there is an abomination of a ending/cliffhanger. Love you guys and hope you enjoy it a little at least. 😩

As you come out of sleep you snuggle into the bed, giving the comforter a tight squeeze. You are in your head before you can even open your eyes. You felt content, happy and sore. Outside of why you felt so relaxed why were you? These weren't normal thoughts and feelings for you, especially lately.

You slowly open your eyes to an unfamiliar room, light streaming from a sliver of window that wasn't shaded by curtains. You lazily lift yourself up on your elbow while wiping your eyes and take a look around. After a brief scan of the room you realize where you were and just how you ended up there. Your eyelids shoot wide open at the realization and your eyes land on the handsome brunette man laying beside you, you start to recall the events of last night. Your cheeks burn and you hide your head in your hands, almost as if it would erase your memories of what had occurred last night.

Lifting your head from your hands you turn it ever so slightly to the left and your gaze shifts back over to where Jungkook is sleeping. You notice his chest gently rising and falling, the freckle you hadn't seen under his plush lips, all of his soft features in the sunrise that peeked through the window. He looked so precious, so angelic and soft with his fluffy hair covering his eyes. None of the adjectives you would've used to describe him last night.

Deciding you shouldn't stay any longer you quietly lift the sheets over your body and slide out the of the bed. You scurry around the room to find your clothes scattered throughout the space and tugged them on one by one. Searching high and low, you found everything but your panties. Fuck this isn't good.

Quickly doing the math in your head you figured the longer you looked for them the chances of him waking up would be greater. You give a quiet sigh and you start physically shaking your head at yourself knowing this could be the dumbest idea you have ever had. Reluctantly you head for his door.

You successfully make it through without waking Jungkook up. As the door makes a click assuring that it had been closed you look up to see the goal. The front door is straight down the hall, you can do this. No time to waste, light on your feet you make a brisk pace. Right out of the hallway you are stopped by a boxy smile. Shit.

"Hey! Wasn't expecting you to be here still, want some breakfast?"

"Uhm, no thank you I'm just gonna go home." You start hustling to the door trying not to hear his reply turn the handle and rush out to the cold air hitting your body and making you shiver.

Taehyung scratches the back of his head and his eyebrows are up in his bangs. "Definitely wasn't expecting that."

Running out the door was probably incredibly rude, but you had to leave if you were going to live with yourself the next few days. How could you stay and have breakfast when Jungkook's roommate KNEW you fucked and spent the night. No way would your body let you stay in that place a second longer.

You grab your phone out of your pocket and call an Uber to your place. After you got the confirmation, you shove the device in your pocket and look up into the clouds lost in thought. You can't help but squeeze your thighs together at the thought of Jungkook on top of you last night. You also couldn't get out of your mind what happened to you. When did you ever call someone daddy, and why did you? Seems like you'll have to explore that some other time.

-----------

You sit at the restaurant with your bestfriend Lisa, her eyes wide at the story you had just told her over brunch and a few mimosas. "Holy shit y/n, I'm so proud of you!"

This was not the reaction you were expecting and had your eyebrows knitting on your forehead.

"Okay okay, I can see your confusion a mile away." She takes a sip of her glass and places it back down. "You've been so hung up over Jimin, and I... I don't know you just needed this. You locked yourself up in your apartment for weeks!"

"Ya but isn't that normal for breakups ?! I just needed some time to sort things out in my head." You slice a piece of your pancake and shove it in your mouth ignoring the slight pang that hit your heart at the sound of his name. "It was Jeon Jungkook, THE Jungkook the one that all the girls talk about!"

"Yes, which makes this even greater! How hot is that?! Honestly I'm so jealous, but obviously.. so proud of you." Lisa looks at you with a bright smile, giggling at her own joke. "So it was good right? He lives up to the hype?"

Your cheeks flush and you look to the side remembering all the dirty things Jungkook whispered in your ear last night.

Trying and failing you duck your face in your arms where they were resting on the table from your bestfriend. Lisa knowing you too well to let this act of yours go unnoticed she gives a big squeal. "Oh bitch, I need to know everyythinngg."

"Oh I forgot to tell you the most embarrassing part." Your eyes look around the restaurant as if you were being watched and spoke in a low tone. "I may have left my underwear there."

"You whAT!?!?" Lisa practically yells at your confession. Her face is shocked but is also holding in laughter, looking at you quizzically for more of the story.

"Well it wasn't on purpose! I just couldn't find them and I didn't want Jungkook to wake up while I was looking so I just ran out of there without them!"

"Oh Y/n you fucked up. He's gonna find those and use the-"

"stOP!" Leaping over the table and clanging some dishes you throw your hand over her mouth stopping her mid sentence because you don't want to hear what dirty things she is imagining.

"I don't even want to think about it. Please I just want to pretend that he will never find them, or if he does, he will throw them away and never mention it again." You look at her with nervous eyes and she reads your expression.

"Alright you can live in your prude fantasy world, but that's not gonna happen." Lisa raises her eyebrow and has a doubtful but playful look on her face. You know she's right, but you cant live with that just yet.

----------

You toss your purse on your sofa in the living room and collapse on the cushions. It had been awhile since you had gone out with Lisa and it felt really nice to talk to her about everything that was going on in your life, and hers.

Jimin was a big part of your life, you were together for five years and everyone expected you to get married, well so did you. Since the break the past few weeks were really hard, having Lisa there to talk to you was cathartic and much needed. Laying all your thoughts out to her instead of running them through your mind every day, every hour was a big weight off your shoulders.

Feeling stuffed you head to your room to change out of your clothes into something comfier. It was Sunday, so as much as you'd like to give yourself a break from studying you couldn't let yourself be idle all day. So you mocked up a plan in your head to crack open the books once you rested a bit.

As you were throwing an oversized shirt over your head you heard a ding come from your phone in the living room. You tug the last piece of clothing over your head and make your way to your purse. Thinking it was probably your bestfriend wanting to know if you got home okay or wanting to dish more you open your phone to find a text from him.

[Jungkook] 2:16pm

You left so soon?

You look at the text in front of you with a smile pulling at your face. Did he not want you to leave? Did he miss you? Why does he care if you left before he woke? You take a second to think of what to write, thoroughly confused.

[Y/n] 2:21pm

Well... I had some errands to run, plus I didn't think you'd want me around.

You just assumed this was a one night stand. Not, let me cook you breakfast while wild animal critters clean and fit you into a perfect dress. This wasn't a fairytale, there was no way Jeon Jungkook cared if you left before him waking up. He probably just wanted to keep you buttered up for a second time if he needed to get off.

Not that you would be opposed to it. Hell, you would skip over there right now if you didn't have exams to study for. Fuck, I have to study.

You throw your phone on the coffee table and head to your room to grab textbooks to start looking over. You walk over to your dining table whip open one of your biology books, put in some earphones and start cramming for your upcoming exam this week.

A few hours later you are stretching your arms above your head and extending them for a lengthy stretch. You decide to call it for today feeling like if you continued you wouldn't absorb it anyways with how tired you felt.

You get up and look in the fridge grabbing the water container, pouring it into a mug and throw it in the microwave. Tea always made you feel better after a long day. You pull out the box of tea from your cupboard and pick up a tea packet and placing it on the counter. As your water heats in the microwave you go to look for your phone on the coffee table.

Three unread messages?

You unlock your device, and tap the messages app. Almost immediately your stomach drops. Oh no no no

[2:26pm] Jungkook

Well I wouldn't have minded if you stayed a little longer in my bed..

Although this was a bold text, it was not the one that made you feel like your bile was creeping up your throat. It was the image that came after.

[6:16pm] Jungkook

[Image135.jpeg]

It was a photo of Jungkook laying in his bed, with his fluffy black hair in his eyes. He wasn't wearing a shirt and you could see his perfectly toned pecs and abs. Looking further down you can see his v lines disappear into his boxers. All of this laid out for you from the angle he took the photo. His dark sinful eyes were half lidded looking straight into the camera. But the most devastating part? Jungkook had his mouth open, with your panties laid out on his out stretched tongue.

You almost choked on your spit throwing your hand in front of your mouth with a gasp. Your knees feel weak and you nearly drop your phone on the hardwood floor. You go to peak again at the photo with one eye closed, not feeling like you can handle this much sexy with both irises. Holy shit.

Your thighs squeeze together and your core throbs, feeling arousal oozing from you. Everything in your being is telling you to be embarrassed but this... this was the sexiest thing you've ever received.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

"FUCK!" You were so enamored by the photo that the sound of the microwave had you jump and scream. Almost giving you your second heart attack of the day.

Coming back from reality and calming yourself down you remember you had a third text from Jungkook.

[6:17pm] Jungkook

Looks like my princess has lost her slipper, will you come get them?

You couldn't believe the situation you were in and you could only blame yourself. It was foolish of you to think this wouldn't backfire, at least you didn't want to acknowledge it would. But could you really call this a failure? No not at all, you could get on your knees and thank past Y/N for making such a perfect mistake.

Hesitating to answer you decide that you need a few minutes to recollect your thoughts on what the fuck you just saw, and how you are going to even reply to that.

Strolling over to the microwave you notice you panties sticking to your core and you get hot all over again. Trying to ignore the sensation you grab the hot mug and start to steep the tea. As your bobbing the bag up and down in the water your mind starts to drift.

Do I text him back, do I acknowledge that sinful picture, or do I just slam open his door right now and except the consequences? Obviously the last option is your least likely to pursue but everything about him is so alluring.

He obviously wanted you back and you couldn't understand why. It's not like you were the best fuck, I mean who is? But, why me?

You started to overthink and your brain began to feel fried. Coming to the conclusion that you were just easy and he knew you would come back to him if he asked. But... he was right. You would.

Why not? It's not like you had anything to lose and you could be honest with yourself it's not like you were falling for him or anything. Jungkook staring at you in the coffee shop was the most civil* thing you had with him so there was really nothing to be attached too.

Your heart tugged and you felt like you were lying to yourself a little. For some reason you knew there was someone there you could get to know, something was pulling you towards him. Could it have been when you would watch him study on his laptop before he had noticed you walk in, pulling cute and confused faces making him look so earnest and dutiful. Maybe it was this morning watching him sleep so softly and made you feel at ease. Or maybe when he felt when you were unsure and nervous from his advances and took a second to consider your feelings and asked if it was something you wanted. Ultimately, He calmed you.

You fill your lungs with air and breath out with a huff, pushing those thoughts from your head. This man was dangerous, and you could fall into his trap just like all the other woman he has enamored.

Tread lightly y/n.

You hear a buzz from your phone and your heart starts hammering away thinking about what more he could say. You take a look at your lock screen and see who it's from

[DONT ANWSER] 6:45pm

Please just let me explain

Seriously how could he be this persistent. Your ex Jimin fucked someone else and he thinks he deserves and explanation? What an asshole.

Ignoring the obvious name you had given him you start typing.

[Y/n] 6:46pm

Please just leave me alone and stop texting me. We're done.

You slam your phone on the kitchen table shocked you didn't crack the screen and you start attending to your tea once again.

Taking a sip and feeling the warmth travel through your throat making you feel calmer and more relaxed with your situation you grab your phone and mug and head to the couch.

You search the sofa for the remote and put on something from Netflix to relax.

-----

As you were binging The Office you skim your body with your hand searching for your phone, picking it up off your stomach. You idly start flicking through the usual social media on the couch and remember you hadn't replied back to Jungkook. You take a look at your previous messages and even take a second look at the photo he had sent you.

You pull your knees up to your chest and feel your stomach swirl with arousal. Damn he looked so good.

[Y/n] 7:25pm

Do you normally send photos with others belongings in your mouth?

You weren't exactly sure how to respond but you wanted to pick up where you left off. You were kinda new to this and didn't know how to kick off the conversation again. You and Jimin never really sexted.

[Jungkook] 7:26pm

Do you normally leave your panties at other men's houses for them to play with?

You toss your head back tickled with his question and his willingness to play along. You had a big smile on your face. What a cocky asshole.

[Y/n] 7:26pm

Hmm... not that I can recall. I guess you're just special?

Indeed he was special. The way he made you feel that night was nothing short of amazing and you didn't even know sex could feel so good.. and so dirty. Having Jungkook whisper in your ear naughty remarks made you unfold... and your pants.

[Jungkook] 7:26pm

Well I cant deny that I'm special. But I feel honored to have my princesses panties keeping me company while I think of your pretty pussy that was in them.

Jungkook obviously didn't have a filter and felt no shame in writing that considering how fast he replied to you. Feeling your stomach drip with arousal you close your eyes and think of a response hoping to egg him on a little more.

[Y/n] 7:27pm

And what else are you thinking about?

You couldn't resist knowing what was in that depraved mind of his and you wanted to venture into it a little more.

[Jungkook] 7:30pm

Well for starters I'm thinking of that headspace you slipped into... did you like calling me daddy? Would my littlegirl like to hear that I'm thinking of her precious lips around my cock, crying for her daddy?

Your stomach flipped and your pussy clenched around nothing at his reply. Fuck. He was so good with his words, it made your head spin. You would love to wrap your mouth around his thick cock bobbing up and down while he moaned and praised you.

As you finished your thought your phone started vibrating in your hand waking you from your obscene daydream.

You looked down to see the caller ID "Jungkook". Oh fuck here it comes. No doubt you felt scared to answer but you couldn't pass this up knowing where it will lead you. You swipe your thumb across the green icon and hold the phone up to your hear practically whispering a hello.

"Mmm hey princess." Jungkook answered in practically a growl and you can tell he was turned on and hungry. In the background you could here it was quiet but faintly you could hear some shuffling and what sounded like wet noises moving in a rhythmic manner. "Do you like teasing your daddy? Making him think of you and your slutty pussy?

You weren't even sure how to respond feeling flushed and red creeping up your face, your shyness getting the best of you.

"Answer me Y/N." He was authoritative with his response and it strikes you in your spine making you straighten up without even realizing it. He had a hold over you even through the phone.

"N-no... "

"No what?"

"No daddy" your face is full on flushed and you start to get up from the couch and move to your room feeling like your living room was far to out in the open to continue this conversation. You quickly rush to your room down the hall and close the door, sitting on your bed back to the headboard.

"That's better princess. You made me so hard thinking about your sobbing face and I need you to take responsibility. Will you help me out baby?"

Now you could hear it clearly. Jungkook was fisting his cock and masturbating making your pussy pulse with arousal. "Yes daddy"

"Mmm that's a good girl" Jungkook relaxed against his headboard and slowly moved his hand up and down his cock, resting his head up against the wood, closing his eyes imagining you there with him. "Strip for me baby I need you naked."

Without hesitation you put the phone down by your side and start to slide off your shirt and scoot off your underwear. The cold room reaching your nipples and making them perk up a bit. you grab your phone and press it to your ear.

"I want you to play with your pussy baby don't be shy, I wanna hear everything coming out of your mouth."

You slip your finger in between your folds and could feel your arousal coating them. Unsurprised at how wet you have become from Jungkook's words. You let out a soft moan at the gentle touch of your bundle not realizing how pent up you had been.

"That's it baby girl, are you nice and wet for me?" Jungkook felt a rush hearing your adorable moan and he couldn't stop thinking about having you there with him. He loved the way you were so shy and it made him want to smother you with words of praise and wanted to light your face up red.

"Mhmm, feels so good daddy." You start to move your finger in a circular motion around your clit feeling your arousal heighten in your stomach. You begin to imagine Jungkook with his thick cock out stroking it, while listening to his sexy deep moans in the background.

"Did you leave these panties here to tease me baby? I couldn't stop thinking about you all day." It was true, since he had woken up and saw you had left he felt a little saddened at the empty spot where he put you to bed. He enjoyed your company even if it was for a short time, and honestly he wanted to get to know you a little better.

Taehyung even teased him when he came out if his room to get some water. Saying that he must have fallen for her if Jungkook let her sleep over. It was a rule to Jungkook to not let any women to stay over night. It was a pain to get them out in the morning and he didn't want them to think it was anything more than casual sex. Waking up to someone who he had no feelings towards was awkward, and honestly he felt a little gross by his actions.

But he let you sleep over and all he wanted was to ask you out on a proper date and rewind the clock a bit. But then he found your underwear tucked underneath his bed when he was tidying up from the night before and it was game over. His dick got the best of him and he imagined you all over again beneath him crying and calling out for your daddy. Just thinking about it had him hard.

"N-no, I couldn't find them. Didn't wanna wake you up." You reach a little further to coat your fingers and reach back up to press your clit a little for more release and started rubbing harsher circles into yourself. You were letting out soft sighs and moans while your head was tilted back and eyes closed.

"So you were walking around with no underwear with my cum still in you? Did you like the way that felt baby?" Jungkook was painfully hard at the thought of it. Your cunt filled with his seed and no panties made him want to explode. Imagining your shy face while hiding the remnants of the night before.

"Mmm yes, yes daddy I did." You could feel yourself getting closer picturing in your head Jungkook filling you up again and making you his.

"Fuck. I'm gonna cum, are you close princess?" Jungkook's hand is tight around his cock, his movements fast and erratic as he tries to get himself off.

"Yes daddy, please!" You were so close, ready for Jungkook's words that would let you find your release.

"Okay baby come for me, I wanna hear it nice and loud." He held his breath and couldn't wait to hear you loudly moan for him. It was a moment that he didn't know he needed so much.

At his words you rubbed faster circles around your clit and finally you let go, your orgasm rushing through you and seeing stars behind your eyelids. Your voice is loud and hoarse with plenty of pants and gasps. "Fuckkk daddy, yes it feels so goood"

Hearing your orgasm made him crazy, you listened to him so well and it was the sexiest thing he had ever heard. Jungkook couldn't wait any longer and spurts of come fell all over his hands and stomach, while a primal moan at the back of his throat came out. Panting while still rubbing himself slowly he sighs out a 'fuck' while he tries to calm down from his orgasm.

You let yourself relax into your bed and you feel like all the tension from your body had left from studying and stress. Your chest rising and falling a little more slowly now that you have finished.

“fuck baby, you did so well for me.” Jungkook sounded like he had been put through the ringer. You would have thought he just ran a marathon. But really he was so turned on by you and he couldn't even explain why. 

Turning red at his confession you cant help but feel a sense of pride erupt from your heart. You love the way he praised you and it made you want to hear more from his lips.

“Uhmm, well I gotta go take a shower..” you cringe at your words and it felt so awkward to still be on the phone after sharing something so intimate. This being a novel experience for you, you weren't sure how to close this out.

Jungkook didn't want to get off the phone with you, he wanted to talk and learn your interests and hobbies, now that his dick wasn't controlling his brain. But he knew how shy you were and this was probably as much as you could handle... for the time being. So he let you go. “Ill text you soon baby.”

God damn if you thought you weren't attached, now you definitely were. All his pet names were going straight to your head and the thought of him texting you, willingly, made your heart seize up. “uhm, okay.. goodbye.” You tap the red icon on your phone and chuck it at your side. staring at the ceiling you think of what just happened and how he could turn you into a blubbering mess. Before you could over analyze the situation you get up to take a shower.

--------

The rest of the week goes by quite lazily. Going to school, coming home to study for your exam and eventually ordering out because you were to tired to actually make yourself something decent to eat. You hadn’t visited the coffee shop this week because you needed to save a little extra cash for utilities that were due soon. Eating out wasn't the best money saver but you had to cut out something and it wasn't going to be your dinner.

You hadn't heard anything from Jungkook, and you weren't surprised. Figuring he would either hit you up this weekend or just not ever again. The thought of it made you feel a little down, but you didn't want it to get the best of you so you submersed yourself in lectures, studying and Netflix. 

It was Friday and you found yourself running late to your only class of the day, Chem Lab. You had stayed up pretty late writing the research paper that was due today and found yourself up until about 3:00am. You missed your alarm and when you felt like the sun was rising a bit too much your eyes shot open, heart pounding like someone administered adrenaline in your chest and you grabbed your phone to find you were behind schedule. 

You quickly got dressed and ran out the door with only the essentials. Normally you would bring headphones, a hat and sunglasses if it was extra bright outside. These accessories made you feel invisible and you liked it that way. You weren't in college to make lifelong friends you just wanted to get in and out of class and right back to the safety of your apartment on campus and graduate on time. It was probably a sad way of life but it was yours and it made you feel most at ease.

You were hustling quite fast to your class and took a route that you knew would be a bit faster, between the arts department and the psychology building. Any other Friday you would take your time listen to music and travel at a leisurely pace. But today was not that day.

You saw a group of students exiting the arts department and you try and weave yourself in and out of them but you end up bumping shoulders with a man in all black. You lift your head to apologize for rushing into him and see those familiar dark eyes. 

You stand there as if you were glued to the cement looking up at him. All your mind goes to were the events of the past weekend and your stomach leaps into your chest. of course.

Jungkook takes a look at you and give you sweet smile and brushes his hands through his messy dark curls. “Hey Y/N, you okay?” He noticed that you looked a bit frazzled and were less than put together. 

You clear your head and scramble to find an answer, your brain had barely woken up with how fast you ran out of your bed. “Well, I’m late class. Sorry for running into you but I gotta go.”

Jungkook takes a look at you and puts the pieces together on why you looked so worn out and stressed. He looks at you with understanding and nods. “Ah got it.” he lifts his hand to the back of his head and looks away. “Well Ill text you tonight then, if that's okay?”

You look at him bewilderment, is he getting shy on you? What universe is this that Jeon Jungkook is acting nervous in front of you? “Ya that sounds nice.” You give him a reassuring smile and see that he instantly relaxes. “Talk to you later!” you hurry out of the bubble that you too had created and quickly set your pace again to your class. You have a big dumb grin on your face knowing you would be getting a text from Jungkook tonight and your stomach goes all a flutter.

Jungkook watches you scurry to class and begins to turn around to catch up with his classmates. His group was a little ahead but not far enough to not catch what had just happened in front of them. One of the men slaps Jungkook on the back in disbelief at what he just witnessed. “Dude did you go soft? What the hell was that?”

“Hyung he brought home that same girl this weekend and she stayed the night.” Taehyung was one of the men in the group and had a dopey smile on his face while looking at Jungkook. “I think he likes her.” 

Jin looks at Jungkook with wide eyes and cant believe what he is hearing. “Wahhh are you serious, why didn't you tell us?”

Jungkook looks at his hyung in embarrassment, he stiffens himself up and straightens out his back. “I just met her okay? Lets not freak out on me.” Jungkook continues to walk right passed the two and admittedly blushes at what just went down.

Taehyung and Jin look at each other both dumbfounded and amazed. For once in their lives they are speechless.

------

You had been home from class for a few hours, and finally you don't have to study or worry to much about homework. The workload that needed to be done was minimal so you could actually relax for most of the weekend. For the first time in a couple months you decide to make yourself dinner and hang out on the couch to relax. As you were loading the dishwasher you hear your phone vibrate from the couch. You finish up with the dishes and quickly wipe the counter down for any crumbs and walk over to your phone.

[6:32pm] Jungkook

Hey, what are you up too?

Oh wow he actually texted you AND it was tame? I mean even more than tame this was casual? 

[6:34pm] Y/N

Heyy, just got done with dinner, you?

Is this okay, this very normal way of talking? You weren't sure what his game was here, but you were curious what he could want.

[6:34pm] Jungkook

Ya same here. Actually, I was wanting to know if you’d like to get coffee with me tomorrow? You know instead of staring at each other?

As you got the text and read through it, you read it again. Is he asking you out on a date? A proper date? This was not what you were expecting and it has you a bit suspicious. But your heart wants what it wants and lately it was Jungkook. You were so elated by the question and it made your face feel hot. When was the last time someone took you out on a date? Even you and Jimin barely got dressed up to go anywhere when you were dating. Maybe thats just what happens when you date for a long time?

[6:35pm] Y/N

Ya that sounds really nice, same place same time?

You were way more excited than you cared to admit and your heart was racing. It had been a long time since you had felt butterflies and being so giddy. Hopefully this wasn't to good to be true.

[6:35pm] Jungkook

Sounds good! See you then!

So that was that. You were going on a date with Jeon Jungkook, the white whale of the school. Squealing and kicking your feet from the couch you immediately call your bestfriend.

-----

You put on your cutest outfit and get you hair and makeup ready. It had been a long time that you even tried to look in the mirror for longer than a few minutes. Only long enough to brush your teeth and do your daily skin care. You took some makeup tips from Lisa and she helped you with what you should wear. She always came in handy with this stuff because you were not he best at fashion.

You take one last look in the mirror and feel a surge of confidence radiate out of you. You look good and you felt good. This was a welcome change in your routine and something you should learn from you thought.

As hou were on your eay out and headig to the coffee shop you feel the vibration of your phone. You take a look at the lockscreen and displayed was a text from your bestfriend.

Lisa [10:51am]

YOU GOT THIS BITCH, I BELIEVE IN YOUU!

It was well needed because you were very nervous and you couldnt stop thinkig about what was going to happen on this date.

You let out a soft chuckle and your shoulders let go of some of the tension from the worry of the date.

You heave open the door feeling the familiar warmth and the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You take a look around amd you see his dark hair first, your heart leaps in your chest. He seemed to have styled it nicely and he looked so handsome. Like way too good that you already felt bashful that he was there for you.

You take your first steps forward, and he notices you walking up to the table. He lifts his head and gives you a big warm smile, almost bunny like. You cant stop staring at him, he was so adorable.

"Hi Y/N!"

...

End?

**Readers notes **

UHHH I am so sorry. I've been out of commission. The cliff hanger/end is an absolute abomination, and if this doesn't reach the high standards I set, I am truly sorry. However, this has been in the drafts for YEARS. I hope you enjoy it, I love you all.

#jeon jungguk #bts #bangtan #bangtan boys #ff #smut #jungkook dom #dirty jungkook #seven #jungkook

[station-3-drama]

might as well post the Faulk progress

1

It all started when I just wanted to draw Lydia again

it was a relatively quick sketch

this is different from the first sketch pic

2

line art

I’m honestly really happy that I didn’t make any huge blunders during this part

Believe me I have made B L U N D E R S

3

Coloring. Coloring her legs. But mostly her fur.

I used 2 different color pencils.

The same colors that I thought wouldn’t work together.

Why have I not done this earlier?

4

To be clear, I skipped a whole bunch

but generally,

I colored her skin

I added gradients to her outfit

So damn cool.

and I colored her gloves

Aw shit I missed a spot

5

After trying to whine about second opinions…

Ok fine, I did that much earlier. (3)

I decided to move the fuck on and continue coloring.

I added shading to the bandages, her sleeves, and added a bit more color.

6

I skipped a step bc I’m ashamed that I put blonde Colors on her hair.

it legit turned her hairstyle into a Karen ass hairstyle.

I wanted orange…

7

Ok I chose some colors from a color picker.

but I could only find two color pencils at the time so I made do.

“There’s always options” - drawing 2 professor

Next, I tried taking photos…my kitchen light is shit

my iPhone camera is shit.

I spent moments of my life trying to get a good picture of this piece.

Afterwards, all that I mustered was a half-assed photo.

She was pale.

There were noticeable grey areas.

The hair was messy.

The background hardly showed at all.

I went to sleep regardless.

8

So I took it upon myself to erase.

re-erase.

and re-color.

a handful of times.

Then I spent my time to haphazardly and carefully color the background.

The lighting is still relatively shit.

but I didn’t care.

it was done.

9

I sprayed the picture with final fixative with slight hesitation

(I think that the picture was before the spray)

Anyways, I set up a 6 minutes

placed the picture standing against a wall

And sprayed lightly.

I dashed back inside to prevent myself from even smelling the stuff.

then I did a sloppy sketch before the timer ran out.

I picked up the drawing and turned it on its side

before I sprayed it again.

I turned it around for each spray layer that I did.

Which was four times.

10

current condition

Shit ass lighting streaked again

But it’s relatively unharmed…I think

#lydiakatheereoc #art progress #mixed media

[littlemissnoname13]

hi could you please make a part two to feeling colors, i LOVED your writing in it. no rush :))

Hiii nonnie! 💕 I did end up writing a second part for the fic after all. I hope you like it as much as the first. X

Feeling Colours - Part Two

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Hufflepuff!Reader

Word count: 2500 give or take

Summary: Draco’s feelings for the reader start to grow

Warnings: fluff, excessive drinking, mentions of throwing up, kissing, nothing explicit, Draco being a softie (lmk if this needs more warnings)

Masterlist | Part One 

Your eyes fluttered open to find Draco Malfoy sitting on a chair next to you, breathing quietly like sleep was finally hitting him. Ruffled blond strands of hair fell over his weary eyes and he’d used his suit jacket as a makeshift blanket. 

Your first instinct was to silently lift up your covers and check if your clothes were still intact and thank Merlin they were. 

“Have a little faith Y/n.” Draco grumbled, startling you in the process as he struggled to lift himself into a more comfortable position. “I would never take advantage of a drunk girl.”

Fragments of the previous night came back to you when you heard him say that. 

The party, the burn of the booze, the dust-filled broom closet, the throwing up, the taste of soup and the strong and sturdy arms of the boy now looking at you with a sheepish grin on his face.

You eased at the sight of his smile. There came a certain type of comfort after someone had seen you throwing your guts up. 

“Thank you for last night Draco.”

“Like I said before Miss raging alcoholic, Don’t make a habit of it.” He let out a small yawn and started to smooth out his hair but much to his dismay, the strands refused to cooperate. 

You couldn't help but laugh at the displeased look on his face. “Here, let me—”

“NO. I absolutely refuse to let you touch my hair.” He protested, grabbing both your wrists before your fingers could make contact with his precious hair. 

“Come on Malfoy.” You pleaded, now fully out of bed and trying to break free from his hands. “I swear I can fix it for you.”

“Nope.” He said firmly as he tried his hardest to maintain a straight face. “Stop it—No please not the sides—no..”

“Please, just a bit more...ah okay….there we go.”

“Haven’t you done enough Hufflepuff?!”

“Oh. that rhymed.” You laughed, still touching his hair when the two of you accidently tumbled onto the chair he was originally sleeping on. 

Draco was agile in cushioning your fall with one of his hands balancing himself on the armrest and one hand wrapped around your waist.

It was only the second time he’d saved you from falling and you were already getting used to it. 

Something inside of you was immediately hoping that Draco would be there to break your fall for a third time too. 

It felt good with him.

It felt safe with him.

~~~

Alone at the school courtyard in the afternoon of the next day, Draco sat down in a far corner to rearrange his cluttered thoughts about you into tidy little compartments in his brain. 

It should have been easy for him. He was a natural occlumens after all.

But for some bizarre reason, he couldn't find a way to erase your name, the sound of your voice and your scent that was slowly dominating all four lobes of his brain and all four chambers of his heart. 

Even with the sun still in the sky, the occasional gust of wind made his hands turn cold so he instinctively shoved his hands into his blazer pocket to warm up. 

It was only then that he realised that he’d completely forgotten to give your locket back to you. 

~~~

A few days had now passed and Draco had gotten several opportunities to give your necklace back to you. 

First it was at the great hall.

He watched you intently from the Slytherin table, waiting for the perfect opportunity to talk to you while you nibbled on a cupcake.

His Adam's apple bobbed as he watched you lick the powdery pink frosting off your Peony lips.

He wasn’t all that fond of those cupcakes you were eating but he’d have done anything for a taste of the frosting from your lips. 

Before he could even manage to walk over to you, you stood up and walked away with your friends.

When you were close to the exit however, you paused and turned towards the Slytherin table to give him a tiny smile.

He quickly reached into his pocket to look at the locket, it was the exact pink shade of the frosting. 

~~~

The second time he tried to return it was at Potions class. 

Theo had so graciously agreed to switch partners with Draco and Snape did not seem to mind as long as the potions were brewed right. 

“Crush the petals as best you can before dropping them into the cauldron.” Snape instructed and you quickly grabbed a fistfull of rose petals. 

Draco watched in awe as you crushed rose petals in your hands, releasing the floral aroma into the atmosphere. The scent caught onto clothes and a flush crept onto his face.

“Well, are you going to help me, Malfoy?”

Draco silently copied your motion and stirred the cauldron till the potion was simmering and ready.

Returning your locket in the middle of Severus’s class did not seem like a smart idea so he decided to come up with a better one. 

“We are having another party in the dungeons on Friday. You should come and bring Abott if you’d like.”  Draco shrugged it off like it was the most casual thing ever. 

“Will there be elf made wine?” You wiggled your eyebrows at him and he let out a rather loud scoff earning the attention of the sulky potion’s master.

“Malfoy, Y/l/n.” Snape called out, looking as unimpressed as ever. “Detention.Saturday.”

“Incorrigible.” Draco muttered and you nudged him in the rib with your elbow. 

“Two Saturdays.” Snape said, before dismissing the entire class. 

On his way out, Draco discreetly sneaked a peak of the necklace in his pocket because he already knew what colour it was going to be. 

It was the exact same pink of the rose petals you were crushing. 

~~~

Two days had gone by since potions class and Draco was no longer fazed when the necklace emulated the same shades of pink from the bubblegum you were blowing or the fuschia ribbon in your hair. 

Draco also didn’t think it was necessary to make another attempt to return your necklace until Friday.

He already had a lot of things preoccupying his mind like actually planning the party. 

There had been no Slytherin Party planned for Friday before Draco invited you and now, He was getting his friends to help him arrange one. 

Crabbe and Goyle were tasked with getting more liquor,  Blaise and Theo were responsible for music and food while Draco was responsible with the overall logistics like silencing charms and getting the word of the party out. 

“All this for a girl.” Blaise mocked. Theo took this moment to whisper something to Crabbe who then whispered something to Goyle. 

“Care to say it out loud, Nott?” Draco seethed as he watched his friends clutch their stomachs and laugh out loud. 

“Theo called you a simp.” A teary eyed Goyle spluttered. 

“A what now?”

~~~

Friday’s party topped the previous one. 

More people, A wider selection of liquor, wine varietals, good food and music blasting so loud that the floors were vibrating. 

As per usual, Hannah had already disappeared into some dark little corner with her paramour leaving you all alone with a group of Slytherin girls. 

“I love your dress!” Exclaimed a tipsy looking Daphne Greengrass who herself was wearing a gorgeous turquoise number. 

“Thank you.” You replied, giving her your most polite and friendly smile. 

“Come now, let's go and dance already.” Pansy crossed her arms and rolled her eyes at the interaction. Although it wasn’t super obvious, you sensed that Pansy wasn’t too pleased to have you there. 

Daphne intertwined her hands to yours and pulled you into the dancefloor with herself, Pansy Tracey Davis and Millicent Bulstrode. 

Daphne’s surprisingly amiable nature took you by surprise but you decided to go with it. It was a party after all. 

When she placed her hands on your shoulders, you mirrored. When she swayed her hips, so did you. 

“He can't stop staring at you now, can he?” Daphne shouted into your ear over the music as you both continued to dance together. 

“I’m sorry who?” You shouted back. 

“Malfoy.” Daphne giggled. “ He’s been watching you all night actually. Why do you think he hosted this party in the first place?”

You stole a quick glance at Draco when no one was looking. He was sipping on a glass of whisky and watching you from a distance.

He had ditched his all black attire for a white button down shirt. The top two buttons were undone and his hair had a sort of laid back look to it

“See?” Daphne shouted again. “Hasn’t even taken his eyes off you once. It's driving Pansy nuts.”

Just to confirm if Daphne was in fact telling the truth, you tilted your head to the side to get a bitter view of him and the minute you did, your eyes met with his.

Heat spread all across your cheeks and he raised his glass to you as an acknowledgement before quickly turning away. 

After that, it was just an intense and tactical little gambit of who caught who staring. 

He covertly watched you sway your hips and you secretly noticed the way he tapped his fingertips on the glass he was holding.

Both of you refused to relent to whatever game this was up until the point where he grabbed a bottle of fire whisky and started to walk away. 

You didn't even need to think twice about where he was headed. 

“Go on.” Daphne nudged encouragingly.

~~~

Draco pulled the closet door open and stepped inside with a smile playing at his lips.

The last time he was there, he was introduced to you, your scent, your smile, your eyes. 

Before that night in the closet, he took colours at their face value. They were nothing more than visual representations of light—what amount, what hue, what saturation.

It was strange how things had changed for him. 

Not only did you make him see colours in a whole new light, you made him feel them, you made him hear them.

As Draco settled down with his drink, he saw the door creak open. 

It was still dark but he could already tell that it was you by the scent of your perfume. Oh, he could never ever forget that aroma even if he tried. 

Lumos. 

Draco held his wand in front of him and allowed himself to turn to his side to get a better view of you. 

Never had he ever seen someone glow the way you did under the lumos charm. The radiance in your eyes, the pearlescence of your skin and the curvature of your lips made him lightheaded.

“I feel like this closet is going to be a recurring thing for us huh?” You beamed at him and he found himself swooning. 

Salazar Slytherin. Nott was right. He was a simp.

“I guess so.” Draco quickly answered, Blaming this dizziness on the lack of ventilation while taking a big sip of his drink. 

“I don’t mind.” You said and twisted open the bottle of wine you’d brought with you. 

“Don’t tell me you brought another bottle of that god awful wine in here.”

 “It’s actually not that bad and it gets you drunk way quicker.” You shrugged. 

“Why do I feel like I might have to walk you to your dorm again?” 

He watched you take a long slow sip of wine and couldn’t help himself from noting that your lips were slowly getting stained red with the fruity nectar. 

“Might?” You shook your head. “Sorry to break it to you, but this wine is going to catch up with me soon.” 

Draco jokingly palmed his face, earning a laugh from you. It seemed like the perfect time to hand you your lost possession back. 

“Atleast, I’ll know when you are going to be sick though.” Draco said as he fished for the locket in his pocket. 

“How come?” 

“Because of this.” He explained, holding the necklace out. “I’m sorry I should have given it back sooner.” 

“That’s okay.” You murmured softly and pushed your hair away from your neck and he instantly took this as a cue to drape the necklace back to where it belonged. 

“Ah…there you go.” He whispered into your ear before shifting back to look at the gem. 

Draco expected it to be pink but to his astonishment, the gem had already turned a vibrant red. 

A new colour.

He could see red in the apples of your cheeks.

He could feel red pumping through his veins and hear red in the way his heart was rapidly beating. 

 “It’s red.” You commented and he slowly nodded. 

Even though he knew what red was for him, he needed to hear your interpretation before making his next move. 

“What does red mean to you y/n?” 

“To me, well…..red represents um..passion, something fiery, something that burns bright, leaves you breathless.” You whispered looking as if you were feeling almost as breathless as him. 

Draco swallowed hard when he noticed just how close your face was to his. 

“Y/n?”

“Hmm?” 

“If I kissed you right now, would you kiss me back?”

He noticed that your breathing was progressively getting shorter. You looked startled at his sudden question but held his gaze nonetheless. 

“I guess you’ll have to see for yourself, Draco.”

He couldn’t help but let out a hoarse chuckle before pressing his forehead to yours. “Is that an invitation hm?” 

You didn’t say a word but the deepening red color of your necklace gave everything away. 

Any remaining doubt in his mind went away when he felt you caress his cheeks with your cold hands. 

He gently let his fingers slip into your hair as he closed the distance between your lips. 

The kiss was reminiscent of the rush of first love. The innocence, the giggles. 

The kiss paid homage that perfumed night in the broom closet that had started it all. 

The kiss was bleeding, seeping, trickling In various shades of red and he was drinking every drop. 

Draco Malfoy could finally tell what the colour red tasted like. 

It tasted like your wine stained lips. 

He backed away and placed a gentle kiss on the top of your head and you gave him a shy smile in return. 

~~~

The two of you spent the remainder of the party inside the closet. 

Drinking, talking, laughing and more kissing.

So much kissing. 

“Alright y/n, let’s get you to your room now shall we?” Draco sighed when he noticed that you were getting more and more inebriated by the minute. “Come on.” 

You struggled to step out of the closet and almost tripped on your own two drunken feet.

Almost. 

“As if I’m going to let you fall face first.” He mumbled to himself before lifting you up in his arms. 

You let out a small laugh before looking up at him. 

“Draco?”

“Hmm?”

“I know you said to not make a habit of this but unfortunately for you, I already have.” 

FIN. 

~~~

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#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy imagine #draco fanfiction #draco x reader fluff #draco fluff #draco one shot #draco fic #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x hufflepuff!reader #draco x hufflepuff!reader #draco x yn #draco x you

[minahoeshi]

you were loved the most of all.

Ushijima Wakatoshi x reader | break-up angst

summary: You should've known that when Ushijima Wakatoshi found it easy to fall in love with you, it might be even easier for him to fall out of it. But who expects the worst when it comes to loving someone as seemingly perfect as him, anyway?

Chapter 1 of 2

Chapter 2 of 2

He said it was easy to fall in love with you. He said he didn’t know when exactly, at which place, nor for what reason. Simply one day, Ushijima Wakatoshi found himself looking at you with the epiphany that maybe there’s something more meant to happen between you and him. There you stood before him that day, the person he could promise love to. (And there he stood before you that moment, the boy whose promises you found yourself believing in no matter what.)

So maybe that’s why it was even easier for him to fall out of love. When he told you he was no longer in love with you, it didn’t matter to you to ask when exactly, at which place, or for what reason. Even the universe itself is meant to fizzle out one day along with the death of the stars. Just one more person drifting away from you like a lone planet with no real orbit shouldn’t leave you broken. You are used to this. You won’t fall apart.

But you break anyway.

It was snowing outside when he decided to tell you to end things now before it hurts both of you even further. Not that the snow has anything to do with the coldness creeping up your chest threatening to spill out of you in endless sobs. You were glad, though. That at the very least, he remained honest with his feelings. He never left you guessing. Every time, he never forgets to tell you what’s on his mind. His honesty is something he thought was necessary.

“I understand, don’t worry. Thank you for telling me right away. I know you’re also considering me–” you tell him and choke up. There are tears running down your face but you’re not worried about that. Wakatoshi never let you mask your emotions around him. For the longest time, he reminded you to feel free to be completely bare with him. All the good and the bad, he said. Don’t be afraid to show them to me. I will always understand.

He steps closer and puts you between his arms. You feel his chin on top of your head as you lean your face into his chest. You’re sobbing now. “I’ll be fine, Toshi. We’ll be fine.”

He kisses the top of your head and lets you stay in his arms for minutes. “I loved you then, and I love you still. It’s just that they’re no longer the same kind. I will stay if you ask me to, okay? Anything you want.”

This only makes you cry harder. He’s always been too good. And even in breaking your heart, he’s too good. You want him to hold on. You want to ask him to stay with you for years and years. Even with a different kind of love, you’ll let him be as long he’s close by. But someone like him who has dreams beyond yourself shouldn’t ever be with someone like you who still lacks certainty toward anything.

“Just for tonight,” you ask, still crying. “Can I stay?”

“of course,” he replies. Anytime you want. Anything you want. It has always been this way.

Because humans are creatures of routines and familiarity, you spend that night the way you usually do when you’re at his place. You cook dinner with him and eat on the dining table, sharing stories and laughter. You keep adding food to his plate and he smiles as you giggle at everything you find funny.

It’s okay, it’s okay. You’ll be okay. You’ll be fine.

You clean the kitchen and stay in the living room. He leans on the couch as you lay down with your head on his lap. You keep talking and laughing. He goes along, sometimes adding things to make you laugh even more, sometimes simply agreeing, sometimes asking questions. You keep it loud and light, afraid of the silence. Inside you, it’s so heavy, your heart might just fall off. This will be the last, you tell yourself. You want to be happy for now. While he’s still here.

"Do me a favor, okay?" You tell him as you're nearing slumber. "Let me leave first tomorrow. Maybe stay in bed, maybe pretend you're asleep. But tomorrow, don't get out of the room until I've left the house." Your voice shakes, feeling yourself wanting to sob.

"I don't want to wake up to another empty bed but I don't want to see your face when I wake up too," you curl into him even further. "I'm sorry for being selfish. I'm sorry I still don't really know what to do. And I know you wake up pretty early and you know, do stuff, but just for tomorrow, please?"

Wakatoshi didn't really understand why. He originally planned on cooking breakfast for you and taking you to the train station. He would watch you board the train and he'd make sure to smile at you as he waves. You always waved back. That's how it works. Even after fights, and even after especially bad nights, you'd still do the same. Watching you leave with a smile was how you both knew you'd still be fine the days after. That nothing much can affect your relationship. For years, this has been the routine.

But tomorrow, he knows he has to give way. He knows what he said hurt you. It would be wrong of him to do what he wants simply because he's used to.

Tomorrow's the last, he realises. And then if you want, he'd never see you again.

--

You wake up pretty early. The sky is a calm shade of blue, the world outside still waking up. You check the time on your phone and find it's 6 AM. Last night, you slept with your back on him. The sight before you is the other end of his bedroom and you notice just how much of yourself you've managed to leave around his place. Pieces of just one other person in his life, scattered in places around his world pretending that’s just where they belong. You didn't mind leaving things behind back then. You never really thought of the day that you might’ve to take back all of them. Just how does one pick up parts of themselves when they thought they’ve finally found a place for them to stay?

But as you stand up, you conclude that when things end, traces shouldn’t be left behind. He didn’t decide to break up only to be reminded of you even after you’re no longer close to him. So you go and pick every little thing that's yours. Even your jacket and sweaters and a few pairs pyjamas in his closet. You'll just take his things from your place too and hand it to Tendou's shop. Coming back here won’t do you any good. Him coming to your place instead wouldn’t either.

Collecting all your things, even the ones you can't use anymore, you leave the bedroom and enter the living room. You don't have many belongings here aside from some DVDs and books. You only take the books and leave the rest for him. You've always preferred reading anyway.

Setting your bag and things aside on the sofa, you go ahead and wash yourself in the bathroom and bring your toothbrush and some other products with you when you're done. You then head to the kitchen to cook him something light to eat for breakfast . You knew you didn't have to. He knows how to cook. It has always been him cooking breakfast for you. When you could, you’d rather stay in bed until the very moment you must start preparing to go to uni or work. But you did anyway. He's probably in his bed, awake. He has never been a heavy sleeper. With all the moving you did around his room, he was bound to wake up if he wasn't already.

You make him a simple omelette and write a small message on top of it with ketchup. "Good luck with practice today!"

You've already cleaned everything you used, preferring to wash and set utensils as soon as you're done with them. That way, when you're sitting down to eat, there won't be any cluster around to distract you.

You put the ketchup down and decide that should be enough. You'll stop here. You should go now.

Ushijima is sitting on his bed. He's been awake since 5 AM when he usually goes on his run. It isn't the first time he chose to stay with you instead of going out, but he can't help but feel heavy this time. He stayed in for you. But as the minutes pass by, it seems that he simply cannot find the courage to sit up and face you.

He wants to sink into his bed.

There's knock on the door followed by sentences uttered softly. "Toshi, I'm going now. There's breakfast on the table. Make sure to eat before you go."

There goes the heavy feeling again. Maybe if this keeps up, he might just actually sink and never get back up.

You've done that a few times. Leaving while he's still in the room. You don't even open the door. You simply knock and tell him you're about to go, always reminding him to eat before he goes too.

But this will be the last, he thinks. If you leave now, will he never see you again?

a/n

chapter 2 will be up soon not rly sure when tho. (it's up now the link is at the top)

also, im not entirely sure but i think i didnt use any pronouns or gendered nouns for this except "girl" in the 1st paragraph which i erased just now? if i'm right, then i hope everyone reading this get to feel as though theyre rly the person in the story. unless ofc u dont want that bc this isnt the happiest ushitoshi x reader fic u can find🥲. but thanks for reading!!!! m so sorry for typos nd other errors as well. i kinda cant read my own writings bc sometimes doing so makes me wanna smack myself in the head and never write again nd i hate that so now im leaving my mistakes to the gods nd hope they love me enough or smth. but yes thank u sm again for reading!!!!

#ushijima x reader #ushijima scenarios #ushijima angst #ushijima fanfic #ushijima reader insert #ushijima x y/n #ushijima wakatoshi

[strawbearisamu]

for a day like this

timeskip! hanamaki takahiro x gn! reader

summary: a coincidence on a train ride home leads to a confession and kissing in the rain.

note: requested by anon :) here, semi long one guys

cw: light swearing, semi makeout scene

wc: 1.8k 

the sky shrouded by a dense fog, the blue of it completely concealed by a covering of wooly grey clouds. rain continuing to pour from the desolute atmosphere as you heard a disembodied female voice announce the departure of the train. you sighed, train starting to move as you look out your window only to see a strike of lightning, the muffled thundering of the storm only growing louder, reminding you of the impending consequences of today's events.

"miss..miss...excuse me miss?" shaken from your daze, you meet the face of a middle aged woman carrying an infant and a young child, "miss, would you mind switching seats with me? there just isn't enough space for my baby's breastfeeding equipment on the other side." she asked apologetically, "even though i specifically requested it," mumbling the last part under her breath.

you press your lips in to a small smile, grabbing your things as she thanked you in relief, your eyes light up at a familiar shade of strawberry brown, occupying the very seat next to the one you were supposed to replace, "makki?" you couldn’t help the grin as called out from behind.

he whipped his head towards you, eyes widened, mouth slightly agape as he eyed you a few times. as if making sure you weren't a fake, making sure the familiar resonance and tenor of your voice, the one he replays to himself some nights, making sure it wasn't just an auditory hallucination. "y/n."

eyes lighting up with excitement, you speed up towards him, engulfing his sitting form in a warm hug, arms wrapped around his neck as he breaths in your scent.

"missed me huh?" you don't miss the playful glint in his eyes as you finally let him go. "yeah," a beaming grin displacing the forlorn look on your face.

"what were you doing in the city?" you asked, squeezing past him into the window seat as he towered over to the side of the walkway to make room, you see his eyes glaze over for a split second before he says "just a reunion with the boys."

"how are they! you guys were always quite the gang."

"yeah," he paused, slight hesitation lingering in his voice, "they're good i mean, really good."

the thunder crackling, a shot of lightning briefly lighting the gloomy sky as the scenery beyond your cabin window blurred with the speeding train.

"you look awful," he says, words slipping out absentmindedly, his eyes widening in absolute horror as he spluttered an apology, rambling on, "not as in you're ugly but your clothes, your stuff, it just looks a little...disheveled."

you burst into laughter, the first time today, "my bag was stolen today, some guy on a motorbike snatched it and knocked me over, it was crazy! i tried chasing him too!" you recounted the story again, but for the first time today, in humour.

"pfft, sorry not the point, you tried chasing him?" his mouth curving into his signature lazy grin.

"what's your point strawberry head?" narrowing your eyes at him as he raised his hands, pleading innocence. "you okay though?"

"i'll survive, can't say the same for my job, had some really important work documents there, weren't supposed make copies, now they're gone."

"oh..."

"yeah, i'm so pissed but well the jury will be out after the weekend," you sighed, "but anyway should we be talking about how you look just as bad as me, makki?"

a boyish laugh resonates from him, it does something to you, the familiar scratchiness of it inscribed in your mind from long ago. the corner of his eyes crinkled, "shit i guess i do," he said. "mhmm," you hummed, nodded along in laughter.

"the reunion," he cleared his throat, "i mean first off, this is not even close to being as bad as your day," he precautioned.

"just get on with it," you rolled your eyes.

twisting and fiddling the ring on his pinky, "just saw everyone doing really well, what with oikawa and iwaizumi being on olympic teams, even mattsun has a steady career and plan you know? i think i'm second guessing myself? i thought i was living life, having fun, but sometimes everything feels like filler before death.”

you nodded along to him, listening intently. you had always known makki to be more of a free spirit so this was rare.

"we all have those days," you mumble under your breath.

you let a comfortable silence fall between you, rummaging your bag for the slightly squished convenience store sandwich and your earphones.

"it’s tough huh, trying to find our place now.” you said, handing him one side of your earphones.

“yeah, so much easier when you’re two dumbasses goofing around, playing with erasers and tic tac toe during class," he slotted in the bud, and you do the same, as the ambient music filled your ears.

“you and mattsun?" you probed.

“no you, you and me.” for second his playful facade falters. his eyes lingering on yours as you held each other captive, your stare burning through his enigmatic grey eyes, a raw emotional intensity that made it seem like time had slowed down, neither of you finding the courage to make a move in the moment of impenetrable tension.

"i guess the rain is quite fitting for a day like this." you finally dared to look away, taking in the storm weathering just beyond your window, "but somehow i feel a little better now makki. maybe it's your pink hair."

"you do love it," he said, "i feel a little better too," he whispered, and you barely catch it.

—

he took a deep breath in, releasing it in a heavy sigh. “miyagi air right? nothing like it.”

“can’t tell if you’re a free spirit or an old man now.” you stepped off the platform, bags in hand.

"let me walk you tonight. you don’t have an umbrella.”

“neither do you?” you pointed out, handing him one of your bags as the both of you walked towards the exit.

"don't worry, i've got a plan," he winked a cheeky smile playing on his lips.

—

the wind howls, your hair violently blowing into his face, "this was your genius plan makki? run a little faster will you!" you shout over the blaring pour of the rain, incredulous.

"easy for you to say, you're not the one hauling your heavy ass bag." one of your bags slung around his shoulder, arms stretched around the both of you as he holds his jacket up for cover. well, your cover, his exposed side completely drenched.

"we're close," you called out, awkwardly trudging across the puddle ridden road, his warmth emanating from beside you as your heart raced in your chest, though you couldn't decide if that was the rain or makki, more probably both you finally decided.

"we actually made it in one piece." you breathe a sigh of relief as you finally made it under the roof of your home, catching your breath a little as he twisted his rain soaked jacket.

"what are you waiting for? aren't you gonna open it?" he asked.

"okay what?"

"open the door?"

"i don't have the keys, they got stolen remember?" you said dubiously, now working the water out of your clothes as he gave you a baffled look.

"what? how are we gonna get in?

"well i assumed you had the keys?"

"how in the world would in have your keys?"

"in that confe-, letter i gave you? said you were here all the time you might as well have the key and gave you a key?"

"letter? what letter, y/n?"

"wait the letter...you didn't receive it?" the colour in your face drained, you took a sudden notice to his drenched figure.

"you're soaked dumbass." you say in an attempt to quickly move on, unzipping your bag to pull out a fresh t-shirt. he tries to stop you but you don't let him.

"shut up just let me do this makki." you pull on his forearm, tugging him down to meet your eye-level, his face inches from yours as you gently pat his face and neck dry.

"is this just an excuse to kiss me?" the same lazy smirk playing on his face again but his expression morphs into an unreadable one, eyes clouding, "the letter," he whispered looking down at you, his bangs skirting his lashes as you dabbed his cheek with a t-shirt.

"you wish you could kiss me," you joke.

"i do wish," he doesn't.

"was it a confession?" you didn't answer him, "can i kiss you makki?" the burning desire held off long enough as you somehow found the courage to ask.

makki broke into a smile, clumsily taking your hands in his, hurriedly dragging you back into the rain shower. hard rain hitting you, massaging your head, but even as you felt your senses become overwhelmed your attention was still singly engrossed by the man in front of you.

"what are you doing? i just patted you dry!" you reprimanded him, shouting over the pour of the rain, looking up at him, now 6'1, his soft gaze easily slipping past your faux stern one.

"it's more dramatic this way," he whispered, his hand gently caressing your face, thumb running circles on the now flushed apples of your cheek, his eyes becoming clearer to you as you finally begun to understand the liquid grey eyes that held you captive for so long. your heart speeding up again, butterflies fluttering aggressively in your stomach.

you tiptoed a little, eagerly reaching a hand into his now drenched strawberry pink hair that you were always so fixated on. he responded in kind, securing an arm around your waist, hoisting you up, you body colliding into his warmth, lower lip tingling a little as he traced it with his slightly calloused thumb. finally, he cups your jaw, taking your lips in his.

his lips warm, soft, impossibly plush against your own, the soft tickle of your hair on his cheek, your honeyed taste playing on his tongue, the shared warmth between you melding into one, your heartbeat synchronous, in perfect parallel with your harmonised movement. lips slightly parted, he bit your lower lip as you moaned a little.

"you think the neighbours can see us?" you pulled away, holding his cheeks in your hands, still in a slight daze.

"don't know, don't care."

"when did it become a drizzle?" you asked as he shrugged in response, desperate to capture your lips in his again.

and you guys stood there, in the light drizzle of the rain, soft rays of sunlight finally peaking through the glum clouds, making out for the audience of your entire neighbourhood, enjoying the petrichor of the rain. because yeah you were still locked out of your house, yeah you were probably getting fired and yeah he still didn't know shit about what he was gonna do, but everything seemed just a little bit better.

"i guess the rain was quite fitting for a day like this.”

sol's comments: can you tell i have no idea how to write a makeout scene? :")

m.list | each and every reblop is appreciated ☻ (+ free hugs)

#sweet by sol 💗 #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #hanamaki takahiro x reader #hanamaki takahiro #hanamaki x reader #makki x reader #makki fluff #strawbeari requests: mailed #i made something! — sol ⋆·˚ ༘ *

[no-droids]

Rushed

Part Seven of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 6.9K haha NICE

Warnings: SMUT, mildly jealous Mando, penetrative sex, slight degradation, slight edging, cumplay whoopsies

A/N:  Listen I was planning for there to be a soft moment at the end of this where they talk about some personal shit but then the smut went too fuckin hard and I couldn’t make it fit so it’ll happen next time no worries

***

The first thing you see when you blink your eyes open is… green.  Green, and sideways.  Three little fingers, grabby as usual, clutched onto a strand of your hair and tugging.

Gigantic, pitch black eyes blink slowly at you as you focus your vision, lifting your head just slightly from where it’s resting on a balled-up, makeshift pillow.  The baby coos at you, a musical and happy sound, tugging your hair once more as you take in your surroundings.

The cot you’re laying on is pulled out of the hull just partially, just enough to bathe your legs and the lower half of your torso in light while the upper half is still in the confined within the tight space inside the wall, but that still doesn’t explain how the kid got in here with you.  How did he climb—?

Something—a hand—comes down to thump over your ankle, not too hard but not really overly concerned about it either.  “We’re here,” grunts a modulated voice, interrupting your adorable little alarm clock.

Ah.  That’s how.

You immediately reach out and scoop the baby up into your arms just because you can, turning him around and holding his back to your chest as you cuddle him on the bed.  “Okay,” you sigh dreamily, kissing his wrinkly, hairy yet somehow also completely bald little head and gently smushing your cheek into it.

You settle back down with the kid for another few hours of rest, only a hand thumps down on your ankle again.  “Come on,” Mando’s voice drawls through multiple layers of metal.  “Let’s go.  Karga is waiting on us.”

Your eyebrows pull together, just as your little, little spoon starts to wiggle in your arms.  “What?  Who’s us?”

“Us,” he repeats shortly, pulling the bed the rest of the way out of the wall by your ankle but slowing it to a gentle halt right before it can reach the end of the tracks.  “Now hurry it up.  And stop smothering him.”

You groan and sit up in the brightly lit hull, blinking around at the… remarkably tidy ship.  

It wasn’t like this before.  Where’s all the clutter?  The first aid kits strewn about?  The excess pieces of gauze and tape on the floor?  The… the blood on the walls?

Your eyes fall to the corner near the hatch almost immediately, the sight of… The Incident.  Only you find it completely spotless, not a single thing out of place.  Come to think of it, you don’t think you’ve actually ever seen the hull cleaner than it is now, even when you’ve spent literal days working at it.

There should be blood there.  There was a pool of blood there.  Wasn’t there?  There was a pool of blood right there, right in that little space between the—

“Hey.”  Your jaw is caught in a gentle grip and pulled left just a little, and you suddenly come face to face with a metallic visor.  His helmet is nothing but sharp angles and your own warped reflection staring blankly back at you, but his hold is steady and his voice is soft through the modulator.  “Us.  You, me, and the kid.  Right?”

You blink at him, suddenly reminded of the child held in your arms.  And then you nod slowly at him, hearing the baby gurgle softly near your chest as he looks up at Mando.

“I’m not leaving you today,” he tells you, moving his hand up to cradle the side of your face.  “But I also have to meet up with Karga.  It won’t take long.”  He jerks his helmet to gesture over at the open hatch, before looking back at you and brushing a thumb across your cheekbone.  “So let’s go.  Okay?”

You nod once more.  “Okay.”  But then you remember the blood all over your hands and clothing.  “No, wait, Mando—I have to change clothes—”

“No, you don’t,” he interrupts.  “Come on.”

“Yes, I do,” you protest, gathering the child in one arm and bringing the other up to show him.  “Look, I still have blood all ov—”

A black, long sleeve tunic.  Baggy, clean, and worn.  Not what you passed out in.  Not actually your shirt, you don’t think.  There’s not even gauze covering your arm anymore.  The blood’s been wiped away and the wound marring the inside of your forearm completely healed overnight.

“Hey, look at me,” he says once more, bringing his other hand up to hold your face completely still in front of him.  The baby makes grabby hands up towards him, but Mando just stretches your neck and makes you lift your chin to keep your attention focused on him.  “I let you sleep for as long as I could.  But we have to get moving now.”

You nod, trying to figure out how you feel.  Grateful, you suppose?  That he did as much as he could to erase what happened yesterday?  If he asked, you probably wouldn’t want to talk about it, so… so what’s the problem?

Nothing.  Nothing is a problem.

***

Alright, so maybe you… get it.

You get it now, why E-Bacta is just as sought after as spice.  You can still feel traces of the partial dose lingering in your bloodstream even now, even while trailing behind Mando and his equally reflective spherical shield as you three make your way into the crowded cantina.

You feel… physically, you feel spectacular.  Glowing.  Radiant and awake.  Not so much high anymore, but almost like the Maker hit a reset button on your entire body.  You’re incredibly well-rested, no aches or pains, absolutely nothing to suggest something major happened last night.  You know you should at least have some trouble walking, but you don’t.  Fuck, even your skin feels clearer and healthier than ever before.

If you hadn’t killed someone yesterday, you might even have a spring in your step.

You’re… you just have to stop thinking about it, you tell yourself.  You’re being stupid and childish.  You killed one fucking person in self-defense.  Mando disintegrates people.  He’s taken out more people with fucking doors than that, of course he’s not going to openly acknowledge it unless you bring it up yourself.

You’re so lost in your thoughts, you almost don’t respond when a booming voice calls your name over the chatter and music.  It’s… it’s almost a bit startling to be recognized first when you’re standing next to someone like the Mandalorian, and you immediately whip around as a warm, equally as loud, “Mando!” soon follows it.

A hand is clapped down on top of your shoulder, Greef Karga beaming at you both as he mirrors his other hand on Mando’s pauldron.  “And baby!”  He adds brightly, catching sight of the little green monster hovering next to you.  “Hey, baby!”

“We don’t have much time,” your companion immediately informs him.

“Oh, of course not!”  He turns his head to look down at you with a wide, almost secret smile.  “Always down to business, isn’t he.  Never one to dally with small talk.  Come, join me!”

You casually trail a few steps behind everyone, feeling just slightly out of place in the dusty cantina even with the forward acknowledgement from Mando’s guild contact.  You’ve met him once or twice, never for very long.  It’s... unexpected, the sudden attention.

Mando unclips his rifle and leans it against the table before taking a seat, and then you slip into the booth next to him, huddling your arms inwards a bit and trying to take up as little space as possible.  Greef gestures for a round of drinks from one of the rusty droids prattling around the bar as the bounty hunter beside you eventually presents three pucks to him.

“I seem to remember you leaving with four of those, last time you were here,” he remarks, visibly surprised.  You don’t know why, but you immediately stiffen, even though Mando doesn’t move a muscle in response.

“The last one wasn’t worth the effort,” he eventually grunts.  You keep your head tilted down just slightly and Greef’s attention is subsequently captured by the droid as it approaches the head of the table, taking three shots of glowing blue liquid from its circular tray and then waving it away.  He places one of the glasses down in front of you.

“I like the days Mando decides to collect,” he says to you, holding up the other two shots of alcohol in both hands.  “The droids are stupid, they always bring over an extra drink.”  He winks at you, tipping one of them in your direction.  “My gain.”

He downs the drink, and you blink down at the one meant for you.  It would be impolite to refuse it, right?  But you don’t really... really feel like drinking right now, especially considering you woke up probably not an hour ago.

“Come on!”  Greef eventually gestures, before downing the other shot of glowing liquor.  “Don’t tell me you’re as much of a stick in the mud as this one is.”

Your hand comes out for the shot glass without thinking.  Mando is completely silent next to you as you tip your head back and drink the entire thing in one gulp, the liquid burning as it slides down your throat.  The man sitting across from you smiles, before digging his hands around in his pockets for payment.

A palm quietly settles on your knee under the table.

“As promised,” Greef exchanges a sizable portion of credits for the pucks.  “Someone is already collecting the carbonite plaques from your vessel as we speak.”

Mando nods his understanding, but doesn’t say anything in return.  Neither do you.

“So.”  Greef slowly settles back in the booth, looking between the two of you.  “This is new.”

“The next job, Karga,” the bounty hunter next to you reminds him shortly.

“Is he this pushy all the time?”  Greef turns and asks you, pointedly ignoring Mando.  “This rushed?  Or is it just because he doesn’t like me?”

“No,” you answer on instinct, and when neither one of them say anything, you eventually flush a brilliant shade of red and realize they’re waiting for you to elaborate.  “He’s not… al-always rushed.”

Greef blinks at you a few times, and then he quite suddenly barks out a laugh, loud and abrupt enough to make you jump.  While chuckling, he pushes four new tracking fobs across the table.

“I was only going to give you three of these, since that’s all you came back with,” Karga says, gesturing for another round of drinks with a lazy twirl of his finger.  “But I like her.  More than you, Mando.  So I’ll forgive you this once, but try not to make it a habit.”

“And you’ll get two extra drinks this time as a token of appreciation.”  Mando slides his hand down to cup your knee and give it a gentle squeeze.  “We’re leaving.”

“Of course you are,” Greef huffs, watching you both scoot out of the booth and gather your things.  “It’s already been five whole minutes since you first sat down.  Far too much socializing for one day.”

“Thank you for the drink,” you tell him politely.  “It was very nice seeing you again.”

“Likewise!”  He projects, widening his arms and beaming up at you.  “If you ever get tired of him, you are always more than welcome here on Nevarro.  You’re far nicer to look at than anyone else in this sector.”

Mando’s palm rests low on your back, his voice quiet through the modulator and partially lost in the chatter of the crowd.  “Let’s go, sweet girl.”

Greef waves three fingers at the kid in his metal sphere.  “Bye, baby!”

Mando doesn’t let go of you.  Not when you turn around and start walking away, not when you leave the cantina, not when you’re making your way through the busy Nevarro marketplace afterwards.

“That was rude,” you eventually turn your head and tell him under your breath, not at all used to him walking side by side with you like this.  You usually always trail slightly behind the both of them, but his arm on your lower back keeps your strides aligned with his.

“I know,” he agrees lowly, guiding you through the crowded public square, the kid hovering in his shield next to you and blinking up at all the excitement going on around him.  “He was being too bold.”

“I mean us, Mando,” you correct.  “We were rude.  He was being friendly.”

“Karga doesn’t have friends,” he responds lowly.  “He has business associates that tolerate him because of his connections and position in the guild.  You were already nicer to him than most of his contacts ever are.”

You don’t say anything back to him.  How long ago was it that you were likewise nothing more than a business associate Mando tolerated?  Less than a few weeks, maybe?

And yet, it’s only when you reach the ship that he finally lets go of you.

***

You love the kid.  Honestly.  You’d die for him.

But sometimes.  Sometimes you just want to… step on him.

Okay, no—you shouldn’t say that.  He might choke you in your sleep with his insane fucking demon powers if he hears that.  No, it’s just… it’s like he feeds off the energy around him sometimes.  Which is great, especially when you’re exhausted and his naps tend to align with yours.  Canto Bight was a different situation considering you were in such an incredibly crowded area, but in hyperspace?  The kid only has you and Mando around to take his cues from.

Which means, if you’re buzzing with energy and just waiting for him to fall asleep, guess what?  Guess who suddenly gets a second, or third, or fourth wind?

It’s never ending.  The moment you think he’s about to pass out, he bounces back with even more energy than before.  Sure, he’s cute and all, but that shit only lasts so long.  It’s a facade meant to deceive everyone and it’s all just a clever, systematic fucking ploy.  After all, if you needed someone else to feed you and protect you and take care of you for the first fifty plus years of your life, evolution would make you adorable as fuck, too.

Hours.  Maybe even a full day or so before the little shithead finally decides to close his eyes for longer than a few seconds.  Mando so graciously left you alone to babysit him while he shut himself away in the cockpit and navigated to the nearest quarry destination, and the baby was such a handful from the second you stepped back on the ship, you didn’t even catch where you’re headed to.

Not to mention all the cleaning Mando did earlier today leaves you with little to nothing else to do to occupy your time besides supervise the little terror.  And of course, the entire time, all you can think about is Mando’s hand on your thigh under the table.  The way his voice sounded calling you an endearment in public.  

How he felt railing into you last night.  How you wish you could still feel it now.

You close the kid’s shield and stow him safely in the pitiful little cot you slept on almost the exact second he falls asleep.  You don’t waste any time.  You’re immediately climbing up into the cockpit to seek out your armored companion.

Mando is sitting with his back to you in the pilot’s seat when you open the door and quickly shut it behind you.  You lower yourself into the copilot’s chair on his flank, completely silent.

He doesn’t move.  Neither do you.

Time passes differently in hyperspace.  It’s almost like everything somehow drags and blurs simultaneously.  Over the handful of months you’ve been partnered together, you’ve probably spent a little less than half that time in hyperspace with Mando, and excluding these past few weeks dedicated to locating this last set of quarry, it’s hard to recall any one singular instance from the hundreds of hours you must’ve spent with him in this exact setting.  Hyperspace, silence, and this damn cockpit.

Except—except this time, everything is different.  This time, you’re hyper aware of every second that passes as you sit behind him, not moving a muscle.  Your eyes are glued to the headrest behind his helmet, your jaw clenched and your nerves buzzing at the proximity between the two of you.  Though the ship is deafeningly silent, the energy burning inside you almost makes it feel like it’s too loud in here.

Mando can feel the tension.  You can tell, because it’s steadily continuing to rise.  If you were just left to simmer by yourself, you probably would’ve just plateaued at some point.  As it is, he almost acts like an amplifier, reflecting the anticipation in the air as much as he is the starlight overhead.

You’re feeding off each other like always.  But unlike all the times before, this time, you’re the initiator.  

This time, you want to fuck.  

His chair slowly turns around to face you.

And then you both just look at each other for awhile in perfect silence, like Mando absolutely fucking knows it.  Like he knows exactly how much you fucking want him again, and he’s dragging it out.  Savoring the way you’re perched on the edge of the seat, staring at him and waiting for him to make the first move.

“If there’s something you want from me,” he eventually tells you, shattering the quiet with his modulated voice.  “All you have to do is say so.”

Fuck, he has no idea.  You want more than something, you want everything from him.  Anything he’s willing to give.

Instead of answering him, though, you quietly stand up and take a few steps closer to him.  Mando doesn’t move a single muscle as you slowly hook your thumbs around the waistband of your pants and begin pushing them down your thighs.  He just watches you silently as he sits back in the pilot’s chair, likely taking note of the way you consider taking your shirt off for a second as well but then ultimately decide against it.

You probably would’ve taken it off if it was actually your shirt, but something tells you he likes you in his clothes.  After all, he could’ve dressed you in your own clothes last night, but he didn’t.  He knows where you keep your go-bag, he knows how easy it would’ve been to dig through it for a clean shirt.  But he didn’t.

So, with nothing but your undies and his dark tunic draped over you, you carefully brace a hand on his pauldron and lift your leg to settle yourself down on his lap, situating yourself between him and the flight console and straddling the hard beskar on his thighs.

“There is something,” you eventually admit, dragging your palms along the unarmored curves of his sides.  “Something I want from you.”

“It’s yours,” he says immediately, both of his hands coming down to settle on your thighs.  “Tell me.”

Fuck, the unhesitating conviction almost throws you for a second.  The way he’s looking at you through the helmet, so fucking sincere.  You bite your lip and consider him for a moment, his body physically barricaded from you as much as he always is but never looking or sounding so open before.

“Will you take this off?”  You eventually whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to the beskar shielding his face.  “I want to kiss you.”

“It’s—it’s too bright in here,” he tells you, sounding a little out of breath underneath it.  “You’ll be able to s—”

“I won’t open my eyes,” you promise, kissing the front of his visor once more.  “You can put it back on right after if you want, I just—I need to kiss you.  Please.”

His fingers tighten on your thighs, and your own reflection is the last thing you see before you’re slowly and purposefully squeezing your eyes shut in front of him.  You carefully let your fingers drift up on his chest plate, over the rigid lines of his collar bones, before finally bumping into the hard metal at the base of his helmet.

His hands immediately lift to cradle yours, quick enough to imply it’s entirely instinctual.  While his hold isn’t painful, it’s strong enough to keep you still.

So, you wait.  Patiently, with your eyes closed, hoping he trusts you enough to give this to you.  When he doesn’t pull your hands down, you press a soft kiss the beskar again, and then slowly begin pulling the helmet up.

“Wait,” he murmurs.  Wait.  Not a stop, not a get away from me, not a don’t even think about it.  Just a… wait.

You pause and don’t move.  With the way you’re wrapped around him like this, the tips of your toes barely rest on the ground, but you can still feel the floor of the cockpit start to circle underneath you.  Mando’s thighs shift underneath you as he slowly rotates the pilot seat all the way backwards, keeping his hands anchored to yours as you continue to hold onto the bottom of his helmet.

It takes you a second to realize what he’s doing.  Most of the light source in here comes from the stars streaking across the observation transparisteel, but it’s concentrated at the front of the ship where all the glowing buttons also happen to be.  He’s silhouetting his face as much as he can by facing the ladder to the dark hull.

It’s pointless, you immediately recognize, so you readily let him have it.  You know well and good that if you slip and open your eyes for even a split-second once he lets you take his helmet off, the cockpit is too bright to keep Mando hidden regardless of what direction he faces.

These are high stakes.  But the prize is far too appealing to pass up.

So you kiss the cold beskar again and slowly begin pulling the helmet up once more.  And this time, he lets you.  This time, he holds the backs of your hands and lets you keep kissing the metal as you gradually lift it up, your crotch still pressed tightly to his even though there’s now much more open space behind you to utilize now.  Your lips touch the hard edge of the helmet and you dip your chin to follow it downwards, and then suddenly you’re touching something soft and giving, something that instantly parts and licks into your mouth before you’ve even removed its shield halfway.

Heat burns through you and you moan in relief at finally getting what you wanted.  You completely forget your task as soon as his tongue is in your mouth, but Mando’s hands around yours help you guide the helmet off completely, before carelessly tossing it to the side as he kisses you.  He’s grabbing hold of your jaw and fitting his mouth perfectly to yours before you even hear the beskar clang against the metal floor.

You keep your eyes shut tight as you immediately relax into his body, making a soft noise and melting into him.

Fuck, this is worth it.  This.  This, right fucking here, this is worth everything.  Sitting on this forsaken ship and waiting on him for days or even weeks to come back, never seeing his face, always having this damn beskar separating him from you—it’s all fucking worth it when he kisses you like this.  When he makes a low sound in his throat and moves his mouth against yours like he was just fucking made for it, wraps one of his arms around your lower back and presses you tight against him while the other holds your jaw open.

You can feel yourself get wetter the longer he drags it out, every second he spends slowly biting your bottom lip and tasting you is another dark spark of arousal between your legs.  It’s lazy and hot and so, so good, you nearly whimper into his mouth and push your hips down on top of him.

The navcomp beeps a few times, the autopilot function signaling an upcoming drop from hyperspace.  Apparently your destination was much closer than you expected.

“Shit,” he huffs, breaking away from you.  “Shit—we were supposed to get bacta on Nevarro, I—shit.  I forgot.  You… y-you distracted me.”

“Tell you what,” you bury your face into his neck and reach your hand down between you two, wiggling it into his pants.  “We’ll just promise each other real hard not to get stabbed until we can get more.”

“That’s not—” his breathing stutters when you grab onto his cock and downright purr into the crook of his neck when you find him rock hard and throbbing, “that’s—n-not funny.  You’re lucky I even had that shot to give you.  Wouldn’t—wouldn’t have woken up nearly as happy as you did this morning if I didn’t.”

“How much of that would’ve been from the vibroblade though?”  You pull him out of his pants and moan hot air into the fabric covering his throat.  “Bacta on my arm wouldn’t have helped me walk any straighter, would it?”

Mando gets a single syllable out in response before you’re hooking your panties to the side and moving your hips forward, engulfing the hard underside of him between your slick, swollen lips.

His entire body jerks at the blazing heat of you, and he grits a curse when you gradually begin to move back and forth along the thick length of him.

“I don’t want you to do that next time,” you whisper, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.  Your hips drag against his as you slide his cock through your drenched slit, pressing a gentle kiss to his neck.  “Don’t do that.”

“You’re—you’re right, I’m—” Mando gasps, tilting his head to give you more room and hands coming down to clamp tight over your hips, “fuck, I’m—I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been so rough w-with y—”

“No,” you breathe into the crook of his neck, grinding your pussy against his throbbing cock.  “The shot.  Don’t do that.  Bacta kits only,” you gasp, tightening your hold around him as your clit drags over his thick erection.  “From now on, that’s all I get.”

“Fuck, come on,” he contests, slowly tipping his head back.  “It wasn’t that bad.  You barely felt it.”

“I know,” you whine, rolling your hips along his body.  “That was the worst part.”

“You—” Mando cuts himself off abruptly with a growl, his grip turning to steel on your hips.  “You… you wanted…?”

“I wanted to hurt today,” you moan, trying not to bite down on his neck with how fucking good it feels to rub your cunt along his cock like this.  “I wanted to feel you when I walked.  When I sat down in that cantina booth next to you.”

His fingers dig into your hips so hard, you’re forced to immediately stop gliding your slick pussy over him.  The navcomp beeps once more, this time rapidly.  Ten seconds until hyperspace drop.

One of your hands moves to clamp down over his shoulder while the other threads through the thick locks at the back of his head.  You pull your hips up and tilt them just a bit, just enough to position the tip of his cock at your entrance.  And then you bite his neck and slowly start to sink down on him.

Mando grits out your name, just as the navcomp beeps reach a crescendo.

The Razorcrest is thrown out of hyperspace with a giant lurch in g-force that practically shoves your cunt the rest of the way down his thick cock and then further, pressing him up so far up inside you with such a chaotic shift in gravity that Mando actually chokes next to your ear.  You’re surprised you can hear him at all, considering the blast of white noise at the rapid intrusion and the way you sob through your teeth as they dig into the thick muscles wrapped around his neck.

Fuck, he hits so fucking different from this angle.  He stretches you and fills you spectacularly, forces you to yield to him while you breathe heavy through your nose, wondering how dark of a bruise he’ll have on his neck from your bite.

Mando fucking likes it, though.  You can tell.  From the way his hand immediately comes up to tangle in your hair and hold your face in the crook of his neck while you gradually begin to pull your hips up, clamp down around him as hard as you can and slowly drag his thick cock out of your pussy, you can tell he fucking likes this.  He likes feeling your teeth in his neck while you start to fuck yourself onto him, riding his cock so steady and unhurried in the pilot’s seat of his ship.

“Fuck,” he nearly spits, his hand squeezes your thigh hard enough to leave a mark.  “Is this—is this what you n-needed, sweet girl?  Hm?  Just a little—little attention?”

You whimper, wondering how it feels so fucking amazing like this.  How the head of his cock is pushed up tight against your g-spot, spreading wildfire in your lower belly and seeping through your pelvis and into your upper thighs.  Fuck, you grind the head of his cock slow and hard against it and try not to dig your nails into his arms where your fingers are clutching tight to the dark fabric.

“Needed—Needed you to touch me in that cantina,” you whisper, already half out of your mind with the aching bliss, saying whatever the fuck comes into your head first and not thinking anything past it.  “Needed you to… to put your hand down my pants while you talked to Karga—”

“Shit,” he snarls, his hips jerking up into yours almost unintentionally with the sentiment.  “Shit—I—”

“I would’ve let you,” you moan, starting to move as best you can with his thrusts.  The positioning doesn’t allow for him to do much besides roll his hips in short, stunted movements, but it’s just enough to let you slowly build your pleasure until it’s simmering and burning through you.  “Do you think he would’ve still flirted with me if he knew you had two of your fingers inside me under that table?”

“Shut up,” he snaps, but it’s way too breathless and worked up to be anything close to threatening.  “Maker, you have to—have to sh-shut up or I won’t last—”

You can hear how fucking wet you are.  Your pussy is nearly drowning him now, slick and hot and drenched as you roll your hips up and down on top of him.  “Does that turn you on?”  You murmur, breathing hot air onto his neck and riding his cock slow and steady.

“Fuck—you’re—” Mando growls, tugging a fistful of your hair and fucking up into you as best he can in this position.  “You’re asking if it… if it t-turns me on to hear you s-say—say you wanna cum all over my fucking hand while I talk b-business with someone?  You f-fucking kidding… kidding me?”

Your cunt starts to tighten around him.  Fuck, the power trip you’re experiencing from being on top of him is starting to go to your head.  You feel brash.  Reckless and bold.  It translates to a quicker, harder pace, your hips starting to shove down onto him at the apex of his thrust upwards and hitting a spot inside you that flashes lightning down your spine.

“Fuck, I used to—used to th-think about it,” you gasp, your eyes squeezed shut and just trying to breathe through it.  “Some—sometimes.  Used to get off thinking about it.  Used to think about you and touch myself and make myself cum on the floor of your fucking ship, Din.”

Fuck, the sound he makes is one you’ve only heard once.  The time he had a jagged knife wound on his back.  An agonizingly tight, ragged gasp of a sound, the one he only makes when he’s in incredible pain and trying to hide it.  The blast of heat from it nearly sears through you and suddenly everything is pulling up hot and tight, settling low and locking your hips in position as you start to grind down hard on him—

Fuck, you’re almost there—you’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re almost—

But then suddenly you’re being lifted up, and you nearly sob into his neck and desperately claw at him when his cock falls out of you with the jostle.  But then you’re being carried backwards and your back is slamming down into the floor, and he’s shoving his arms under your legs and positioning your hips up over his thighs.  For a split second, your eyes nearly come open with the chaotic shift in position.  But as if he knew exactly what would happen, Mando claps his hand over your eyes and braces himself on the floor by your head with the other hand, and then—

And then he starts fucking you.

Actually, no, because that word isn’t nearly good enough right now.  One of the very few occasions where a word as universal as “fuck” just doesn’t quite seem to cover it.  It would be better to say he shoves back into you and starts shattering your entire galaxy to pieces on the floor of the cockpit, making you scream his name—his real name—as he starts jackhammering his hips against yours, hand held tight over your eyes and legs braced over his broad shoulders.

It’s fucking debilitating.  It’s absolute madness, snatching your body up and wringing it dry of any last traces of your sanity.  The adjustment to his angle and speed is like a nuclear detonation inside you, and it launches you higher than you thought you could go.  You just dig your nails into his arms and sob brokenly for him at the ceiling, letting his hips collide roughly with yours as he fucks you down hard into the floor.

His mouth is at your neck as he grits the words darkly against your throat.  “Fuck, you need to learn how to be quiet when I fucking tell you to, understand?”

“I’m—” you gasp, eyes screwed up so tight behind his fingers that you don’t even notice the tear slipping out.  “I’m s-sorry—”

“Fuck—shut up,” he growls once more.  Stars, he’s hard and throbbing and he’s shredding up against raw heaven inside you, and you can barely hear him over the sound of your crying, so fucking close to the edge and begging for him.  “Maker,” he snarls, bringing his elbow down next to your head and shifting his weight so he can reach down in between your legs, “if you want it that fucking bad, I’ll f-fucking do it.  I’ll rub your pr-pretty little clit in the middle of that fucking cantina next time just like this.  Make you cum right in front of him, show him that you’re fucking mine—”

You feel like you can’t even breathe anymore.  “He—he didn’t w-want to fuck me—”

“Everyone in that d-dirty piece of shit bar wanted to fuck you, you s-sweet little thing,” he grits, rubbing tight circles over your clit and pounding directly into your g-spot with such precision and force, your eyes roll back under his hand and your spine suddenly goes rigid.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, Din,” you whisper, your voice frantic and rushed and breathless as you claw aimlessly down his chest plate.  Everything pulls up sharp and burning and you’re already starting to bear down on him, starting to slowly squeeze his cock and tighten down hard in preparation for it.  “I’m gonna fucking cum—”

“Fuck, yes—” he gasps, “—fuck, let me f-feel you cum—let me feel this fucking cunt g-get wet, little girl, let m—”

He keeps talking, but you don’t hear him.  Everything is suddenly drowned out by the roaring of blood rushing through your ears, your body locking down so fucking tight around him that you wouldn’t be able to see anymore, even if his hand wasn’t clamped down hard over your eyes.

Din keeps fucking you as your orgasm slams through you with such force that your voice cracks, the blaze of white hot bliss ripping you apart.  He rubs your clit and holds you down and makes you take his cock the entire time, forcing you even higher through the explosive pleasure and muttering filth about how fucking gorgeous you are when you cum on him, how he wants to make you cum again but he can’t hold it back—

You’re saying something.  Repeating it, over and over again breathlessly in time with his ruthless thrusts, pleading and gasping it through shuddering tears.

Din—Din—Din—Din—Din—

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” he groans, stuttering to a halt inside you.  You can feel him swollen and throbbing hard inside you now that he’s still.  “Can I—can I c-cum—o-on your—”

“Yes,” you gasp, not needing anything else.  “Please.”  He can cum wherever the fuck he wants to and you’ll beg for it all the same.

So he abruptly pulls out of you and drops your legs down from his shoulders, letting them sprawl out on the floor and shake as he clambers over your body.  His breathing is ragged and you can hear him jerking himself off already as he continues to climb over you.

“Fuck,” he nearly wheezes, “fuck, don’t open your eyes, sweet girl, don’t open your pretty f-fucking eyes, I’m gonna—” and then his hand is coming off your face and tangling in your hair to hold you still, “—fuck, you’re—you’re so f-fucking p-pretty, baby, m’gonna c-cum all over your pretty fucking f-f-face, I—”  His breath catches, and the only sound that can be heard besides his hand jerking himself off over you is a hoarse, tight, “open your m-mouth—o-open your fuck—ing—”

His body jolts with pleasure above you and a moan tears from his throat as you immediately do as you’re told.  And then he’s cumming, spurting thick ropes of his warmth all over your face and parted lips and gasping out curses and his satisfaction with you.  Fuck, you feel him paint your cheeks and mouth with it, feel him shudder and hear him growl your name as he lets go.

When Din’s body finally stops shaking and he slows down his hand around his cock to squeeze the last bit of it out of him, you wait a few seconds before asking.

“Do you want me to eat it or do you want me to keep it on my face like this?”  You whisper, eyes still obediently shut.

“Fuck,” he pants from above you, trying to catch his breath.  Metal clangs next to your head as he braces himself against the floor.  “F-Fuck—eat it.”

You immediately bring your hand up to gather the sticky warmth from your cheeks on your fingers and dip them in your mouth.  He watches you the entire time, even though you can’t see him.  He watches you eat his cum off your own face, your eyes closed and content to just lay here and clean yourself off as he catches his breath.

Suddenly his tongue is hot and wet as it slides under your jaw, gathering a bit that you missed and then attaching his lips to yours and pushing it into your mouth.  You hum under him and tangle your fingers into his hair, feeling him move back a bit to stretch his legs and settle himself down on top of you.

You break away from him and turn your face just in time to feel all the oxygen rush out of your lungs the second he plops down on you.

“Maker, you are so fucking heavy,” you say, trying to conserve as much air as possible while speaking because he’s making it so fucking hard to breathe like this.

“Tell me about it,” he sighs, nibbling at your collarbone and sounding completely undisturbed by your predicament.  “It wasn’t so bad when I was younger, but now my back is always just fucking killing me.”

“Fuck, get off,” you grab his pauldrons and try and shove him off you, your eyes clenching tight with the effort.  He eventually rolls off you, but it’s very obviously because he eventually decides to take pity on you and do it himself.  “I don’t even know what fucking sector we’re in but I’m pretty sure we’re gonna be dropping into an atmosphere real quick now.”

“Fuck,” Mando grunts, just as the navcomp starts beeping rapidly.  “Fuck, I can’t—can’t get up.”

“You can’t get up?”  You bite out, draping an elbow over your eyes so you won’t have to worry about accidentally opening them.  “Put your fucking helmet on and fly the ship before it crashes.”

He grumbles under his breath and eventually drags himself off of the floor, and the only thing you’re able to catch as he stumbles into the pilot seat and swivels around to face the console is “Karga” and “I was pushy.”

“Can I open my eyes now?”  You ask after a moment, feeling the thrusters kick in and hearing the beeping abruptly cut off.  The sound of metal scrapes across the floor before he answers you.

“No,” he eventually says, but the voice is modulated and run through a familiar filter.  “Keep laying there with your legs open like that.”

You would’ve snarked back at him if the last part of his response was nearly as sarcastic as the first part.  He almost sounds… vaguely serious.  “What are y—”

“Don’t move,” he tells you, and you still can’t fucking gauge the tone of his voice, especially now that it’s coming through fucking beskar.  “It’s the first quarry and the kid is still passed out.  I’ll land somewhere and… we can keep going.  Just for… just for a little bit before I leave.”

He… is he serious?  He wants to… keep going?  What does that even fucking mean?  He just made himself cum all over your face, what the fuck does he mean by “keep going”??

All you can do is lay there on the floor, waiting to find out.  After all, you stand by what you said earlier.

Mando isn’t always rushed.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #reader insert #no-droids #rough day #SMUT #Pedro Pascal

[hpalways]

Spice and Tea || Zhongli

EVERYTHING seemed to be much grander in the city of Liyue Harbor. The tall, towering structures were built from an endless budget of mora, glistening in the darkness. Golden-amber lights shown from each building, they were nearly blinding, but so beautiful. It were these very details that made the city so popular with the tourists... though it was a rather different matter for those who resided here. Besides the fact, these colors reminded you of something — no, someone. 

This someone was currently in front of you, his tall figure leading you through the streets. His long, ebony hair swishing in a ponytail behind him, the soft-looking strands almost slapped you in the face several times. He then glanced back at you, his golden hues digging into your soul. “Are you alright? You look quite out of it,” he observed. 

Blinking for a few seconds, you cleared your throat and quickly nodded. “I am? I didn’t realize.”

Actually, it wasn’t too surprising that you were. The memory of Zhongli telling you that he was the Geo God was resurfacing. No matter how much time you had to process all of this, you could never truly grasp it. A god? How could someone like him... be something so impressive? But the evidence was there. From the way he looked to the way he acted, his entire being symbolized the city. 

You first acquainted him when you found him lingering around your stall, curious of the herbs and spices that were laid out for sale. Dressed in exquisite clothing in multiple shades of brown, you assumed he was someone of high status. Intimidated by him immediately, you steered clear of him and only spoke when he had any inquires. His voice low and calm, he turned out to be really philosophical. His knowledge of the herbs you tended to was profound, and you couldn't help but be in awe. When he finally decided to buy something, it left you dumbstruck. He didn't have mora on himself. How could someone not have mora on themselves?! He was a mystery to you. 

Chasing him away for making a fool out of yourself, you couldn't believe you wasted time on him. However, that wasn't the last time you saw him. He visited a few times a week, coming without mora as always. To this, you were supposed to kick him out, for he provided no business. But deep down inside, you had no heart to do so, not when he looked so passionate talking about mundane things like herbs. Listening to him speak left you at ease, so a smile would take place on your lips more often. 

So here you were now. The two of you developed a closer relationship throughout the weeks. Yet, the news of Zhongli as a god seemingly complicated things. Why would he spend time with a mere mortal being like you? You were nothing compared to him, a speck of dust within his years. In no time, he would forget you... and the thought of that hurt.

Brushing those thoughts away, you decided it was best to enjoy this moment with him. The future was unknown, concerning the two of you, but worrying would only add wrinkles onto your face. Speeding up your pace, you were side by side with the consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. He rose his eyebrows, sending you a soft smile that left you flustered. 

"Why do we have to go to a teahouse when I already have herbs to make tea out of?" you complained. "I'll be the one spending my mora too."

He blinked in surprise. He always did this when someone brought up the currency, as if he didn't realize mora existed. "Oh, that's right. The tea is going to cost pretty expensive," he said, humming. He looked unbothered, knowing he was a total parasite to you. Damn, if he was a god, couldn't he at least create some mora and have you become rich?

The teahouse was coming into view, the homely building wide and spacious. Strolling through the front door, you were led to a table for two. Sitting yourself down in front of Zhongli, you watched as he professionally scanned through the menu. 

"Do you have any preferences?" he asked you. "If not, I know a good one. It's refreshing and has this distinct taste that never fails to reduce stress. After all, a lot happened today, did it not?"

He was correct in that. Today, the newest stocks for your spices didn't deliver on time, because the wagon fell into the ditch. This was a great annoyance to your day, but you decided to go check on it, in exchange that you would get your products safely. What you didn't know was that the wagon had ran into hilichurls earlier, who still lingered there when you arrived at the scene of crime. Ambushed by the creatures, it was thought you were to meet your end when someone saved you in time. It was no other than the Geo God himself, the very one sitting across from you at this moment. 

This encounter had struck more doubts within you. The difference in strength and power between you and Zhongli was out of this world. You were so weak, but he slashed those monsters dead with a few hits. It made you wonder if it was better if he didn't need know you; you were such a nuisance for him, someone not worth of his time. 

"Thank you for saving me back then," you said for the millionth time already. "I guess paying for the tea shouldn't be a big deal, since I wouldn't even be here if it weren't for you."

"It was a pleasure saving you. You are my favorite merchant, after all." He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned on the back of the chair, looking pleased with himself. A staff member approached the table and he went to order tea. Once they were gone, the consultant leaned forward, gazing intently at you. His gloved hand lifted from beneath and was placed on top of your head. Stroking your [h/c] locks endearingly, he was throwing you off drastically. He was never this affectionate. "Go get some rest after this. Don't go back to the market -- it should be closing soon anyway."

Much to your disappointment, he removed his hand when a teapot was set in the middle. Porcelain tea cups were stacked beside it, ready to be used. Elegantly reaching for them, he poured the steamy liquid into the fragile cups, handing one to you and keeping the other for himself.

Patiently blowing into the tea, you took a sip and melted at the taste of it. He was right; this was almost enough to erase all your worries away. 

"This citrus and honey scent stemming from it... it reminds me of you, [Y/N]," he said softly. His lashes lowered, showcasing how long and dark they were. Beautiful. Why was he so beautiful? "Soothing and warm. You allowed me at your stall when no else did. You became a haven, if I dare say." He sipped his tea and let out a content sigh. "Most relationships I've had with others were bounded through contracts. Although, with you, there is none and I still find myself returning to see you. Is this the meaning of sentiment then?"

You were thoroughly unprepared with his words. He kept surprising you today. Was he somehow affected by the near death experience you had today? That couldn't possibly be true. "I-I don't know," you choked out.

It was silent for the next few minutes. Averting your eyes away from him, you buried your face into your cup, gulping down the rest of its contents. Now empty, you hurried to pour in more tea, hoping you didn't look as awkward as you felt. Meanwhile, his features were passive to the point it was unreadable. What was he thinking about? 

"Am I making you uncomfortable?" he asked bluntly. Your shoulders stiffening, you quickly shook your head in denial. "I see. And yes, to see you almost dying, it frightened me. I couldn't bear to lose you." Your mouth parted in shock. Did he somehow read your mind? 

But his words... they touched you, making tears prickle the corners of your eyes. Blinking them away, you gulped and fixed your posture self-consciously. He truly cared about you. 

Before you could stop yourself, you summoned up the courage to voice the question that had been on your mind all night long. "Will you forget me someday?"

He chuckled in amusement, shaking his head afterwards. Reaching for your hand, he guided it to the side of his face. His skin soft and smooth under your fingertips, the feeling of it sent your heart racing. His crimson bangs brushed you, tingles erupting on your tender skin. He nuzzled himself into the crook of your palm, fluttering his eyes shut. "Never. You will be thought of during every tea I drink, every herb I analyze, every merchant I meet, and every hilichurl I fight. Memories with you will be cherished forever... so don't go forgetting me either."

#zhongli #genshin #genshin x y/n #genshin x reader #zhongli x reader #reader insert #liyueharbor #romance #fluff #oneshot #OneShots #genshin impact #tea #writing #love #angst #childe #tartaglia #lumine #xiao #diluc #kaeya

[fleckcmscott]

Coffee & Donuts

Summary: Arthur’s thrilled to be part of a crowd. Though the evening doesn’t go perfectly, Y/N’s flirtations make it sweet.

Warnings: Smut

Words: 4,602

A/N: Alright. After the heart wrenching angst of my last piece (which I love, by the way; don't get me wrong! 😂), I had to write another story in which Arthur and Y/N are happy and together. It's inspired by one of Arthur's visions during their kiss. I hope you all like it! Special thanks to @jokerownsmysoul for beta-ing!

If you have any thoughts or questions, please comment, feel free to message me, or send me an ask. Requests for Arthur and WWH are open!

Parties and celebrations weren't foreign to Arthur. He'd worked plenty, enough to make him realize what he'd been missing out on. He was well-versed in pin the tail on the donkey, musical chairs, and balloon animals. But as an adult, those activities didn't satisfy. He wanted to be included rather than paid. Connect with people, introduce himself. Discuss his experiences and pursuits. Feel sufficiently at ease to loosen up a little and have a good time.

Now he was a guest - a certified guest - at Patricia Gorman's fifty-sixth birthday party. The first party he'd been invited to since being the weird kid in class who'd rotated between three worn out sweaters and could never afford a gift.

He'd been a tad apprehensive about going to Burnside. Gotham's nicest borough had a reputation for high rents and low tolerance. When Y/N and he had entered 2E, however, Patricia's greeting ("You made it!") and the apartment were thoroughly welcoming. Crocodile brown walls and forest green shag carpet made the spacious living room a cozy hideaway. Marigolds leapt across the polyester of the T-cushion sofa and its easy-chair companion. The floor lamp's amber, crimped glass shades cast the spacious living room in a glow borrowed from warm autumn days.

Patricia's husband, Robert, was out on an emergency call. An HVAC had gone haywire in a residential building in Hinckley. Her daughter, son-in-law, and grandson had been by for lunch. That meant the only other guests were Matt - Y/N's old boss - and a bottle-blonde in a black halter dress and spike heels, who Y/N introduced as Laura. ("She's Matt's ex-wife," Y/N later disclosed. "He's been trying to win her back since I moved to Gotham.") Both shook Arthur's hand when he offered it, and he felt a little thrill whirl his stomach when Y/N laid claim to him by telling the woman, "This is my husband."

A collection of appetizers served as dinner, a fun and novel menu. The slow cooker meatballs Y/N and he had lugged over on the subway were a bit tangy; he still couldn't believe the recipe called for grape jelly. The deviled eggs with paprika, a pleasant mix of savory and sweet, was a dish he'd heard about on television. Cream cheese and cucumber sandwiches were light and airy, a good match for his iced tea. Only the artichoke and spinach dip gave him pause. Its beans and hot sauce made his taste buds wince.

That unpleasant flavor was quickly forgotten when Y/N pulled him to sit next to her on the sofa, so Patricia could open her presents. She proudly showed off the orange, clay ashtray her grandson had made for her. Arthur, having successfully kept the secret of her light smoking from Y/N, chuckled at Patricia fibbing she'd put candy in it. She thanked Matt and Laura for the champagne, wrapped in a silver bow with a simple "Happy Birthday" tag. The bottle wasn't popped. Upon peeking into the large giftbag Y/N placed on her lap, she made a soft sound. The Dazey whirlpool bath, which attached to the side of the tub and had three strength settings, was a hit. She announced her plans to try it in the morning. The dark blue Rexbuilt briefbag was intended to replace her cracked, leather briefcase, Y/N explained. Patricia ran her fingertips along the expanding inner compartments, the personalized planner that included the credential "CLA" after her name, and flipped through the included steno pads, eyes brimming.

She sipped at her cocktail and put an arm around Y/N. Melancholy tinged Patricia's voice. "At my age, the people in your life tend to stay the people in your life. Whether you like them or not." She reached further and patted Arthur's knee. "I'm glad an old dame like me gets to call you all friends." His throat clenched in gratification, though he wasn't daring enough to squeeze her hand and thank her for deciding he was a friend.

Still on top of the world an hour later, Arthur sauntered to the red and white enamel dining table to serve himself a second slice of upside-down pineapple cake. The evening had gone well, better than a guy with a natural inability to mingle could've expected. He bobbed his head to the beat of "Come Fly with Me." It was a happy coincidence that Patricia's taste in music aligned with his. She'd regaled him with tales of seeing Sinatra and Count Basie on her and Robert's honeymoon in Vegas. Arthur took a bite absentmindedly, wondering how long it would take for him to save the money to surprise Y/N with plane and concert tickets.

The daydreaming didn't last long. Matt's plodding footsteps preceded him, followed by a long sigh as he propped himself on the beige stone of the dining area's accent wall, across from the u-shaped kitchen. He held out a Budweiser and smirked. "Marriage is a hell of a lot of work."

Pleased that he was being treated like one of the guys, like a regular husband with a regular relationship who got to speak about his regular wife, Arthur accepted the beer and considered the comment. Matt's sentiment was hard to grasp. Dr. Sally had said marriage could be difficult, and Y/N's first hadn't survived the ripples of her life. But it didn't feel like work with her. Their arguments were minor. Her nagging him to find a primary doctor for annual check-ups, even though he'd survived this long without one. Or back in Missouri, when he'd told her to stop shielding him and trust he could take anything she had to give.

Arthur adopted a similar nonchalant posture and jutted his hip against the table's edge. "I like it. It's easy to take good care of her." He wasn't able to completely erase the smugness of success from his tone.

"You're what? Two years in with the most headstrong woman in Gotham? She's great and all, but she spikes my blood pressure." Matt slapped Arthur's back and let out a hearty guffaw. "Give it five more and you'll be in my office trying to avoid alimony."

"Don't. Say that." Arthur crinkled the can in his grip and glared up at him.

"Hey," Matt started, withdrawing even as he tried diplomacy. "It was just a joke. I didn't mean anything by it."

Flinching, pulling at the cuffs of his red sweater, Arthur fought the surge of anger in his veins. It wouldn't do to lose control and cause a scene. Of course Matt's comment about them splitting up was supposed to be a joke. But Arthur didn't find it one bit funny. Even with his complete faith in her and his firm belief that they were meant to be together, the possibility that she'd stop wanting him hurt. It didn't occur to him that the implication of the punchline could be that he'd get sick of Y/N.

With a muttered apology, Matt walked to the others in the kitchen. Arthur glanced over to see her laugh tipsily, until she grabbed her stomach and swatted Patricia's shoulder, a stark demonstration of how much he and Y/N differed. She always knew how to respond to people, the right comebacks. Appropriate timing and levels of interaction. It seemed she was in her natural element, the loveliest swan on a lake. Whereas after years of therapy and practice with her, he was still a fish out of water, flopping around on the shoreline in hopes some stranger would take pity on him and throw him back into the sea.

Maybe that was the real punchline. Eventually their contrasts would no longer complement each other and instead become a chore.

Scowling, he ambled towards the record player stationed before two double-hung windows. Increased the volume to drown out the intrusive notions. It didn't really work. He settled on a grounding technique he'd practiced, all the while lamenting that he couldn't handle a party without needing it. His attention went to the spinning LP, the needle following its grooves. The bright blue album cover, where Ol' Blue Eyes beckoned him, the scuff marks on the cardboard's corner edges. He acknowledged the spider plants sat on the windowsill, worried a papery leaf until it broke off. He stared out the window, taking in the whole of the city. Pinpricks of light dazzling in the darkness.

"Gotham's beautiful at night," Y/N said from behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to watch her approach. Her cheeks glowed with alcohol and good cheer, the collar of her ivory blouse unbuttoned. "There's a life behind every light out there. Ten million of them. Here. Try this." She offered her hurricane glass, filled with an off-white slush.

He sipped the pina colada with cautious skepticism and grimaced as soon as it hit his tongue. The blend of pineapple and coconut tasted of cheap sunscreen and tropical imitations, the kind advertised in smudged brochures for bad cruises to islands with made up sounding names. "No, thanks."

Snorting, she shrugged and embraced his back at the waist. "How are we doing?" she asked, curling into his side. After a few seconds, she prodded him. "Had your fill of Matt?"

"He was just joking." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck and sighed.  She set the drink next to the record player and brought her hand to his, trailed it over the inside of his wrist, up his forearm. She pecked his chin and nudged him until he turned to her. As soon as their gazes met, the concern in hers told him she'd continue to pepper him with questions. But he wasn't about to let his misplaced doubts spoil her evening. And he knew the perfect way to distract them both.

A new song started. An oldie that sang of Jupiter and Mars, playfulness among the stars. He cupped her cheek, thumb sweeping the corner of her mouth. "Dance with me," he said. Before accepting his proffered palm, she laid a sloppy kiss on him. With a flutter of her eyelashes, she grinned, and his smile grew to match her own. As he held her side, led her in a slow, swaying circle, he marveled at her. At her ability to soothe every molecule, every lingering ache. Self-assurance welled in him, chased away his earlier dejection. He cradled her to his lanky frame, trembled and felt himself blush. She was the only woman for him. That was as certain as his cigarette habit.

Despite Patricia's reassurances she was fine, that Robert working late wasn't unusual, Y/N insisted on staying until he got home. Though Arthur would have preferred they take their leave an hour earlier, being allowed to smoke inside blunted his grumbling. The disarming flirtations she bestowed on him also didn't hurt. She'd pour herself a drink (four in total, if he counted correctly), help Patricia make a plate of leftovers for her husband, then throw him a wink. Whisper and cackle while cleaning, then kiss his temple.

Around midnight, Patricia put her foot down. Ushered them out with a promise to call and a hug fierce enough to crush his ribs. She raised a brow at Y/N's unsteady gait, grasped Arthur's arm, and said with a wry, tired smile, "Make sure you put that woman straight to bed." His dark brows shot up and held. Had she intended a pun? Or had Y/N's spare caresses caused the interpretation? Either way, he liked being trusted to take care of her. And the hint of arousal that flared in his belly.

By the time they stumbled into their apartment, that arousal had reduced to a dull exhaustion. She kicked off her heels on the way to the bathroom, calling a slurred "night!" as she closed the door. Yawning, he put dish soap and hot water in the crockpot, scrubbed burned bits of sauce from its rim, turned it upside down on a towel to dry. Once he'd brushed his teeth for one minute rather than the recommended two, he tossed his sweater, trousers, briefs, and socks in the hamper, and went to the bedroom. He found his blue pajamas in their usual spot, the chair in the corner, and slid them up his skinny but toned legs. Tucked in next to her, he was carried to sleep on waves of fatigue and her quiet, wet snoring.

~~~~~

A tickle threatened to rouse him. Whispers along the waistband of his bottoms. Heat snuggled his back. Delightfully drowsy, he cuddled deeper into cozy, cream-color sheets, already returning to a pleasant, dreamless slumber. But a rumble of exhaust, likely from a bus that needed a new muffler, dragged him to consciousness. Arthur grumbled and tucked his arm under his pillow, not ready to transition to a world of overcrowding and concrete, commotion and bad jokes.

Yet, Y/N's insistent grazes continued, luring him with promises of placid pleasure. Her toes wiggled at his heel until he made space for her to slip her foot between his ankles. The corner of his mouth quirked. He was reminded of last night's playfulness, her endless teasing. The way he'd held the crockpot as a shield to fend off her advances on the train home, her forwardness to the point that he would've preferred having a laminated card to present on her behalf. Forgive my wife: she has a condition. It causes frequent and uncontrollable displays of affection.

Nimble fingers edged lower, loosened the tie of his pajamas before dipping beneath the loose elastic to lace through his dark brown curls, darker than the chestnut hair on his head. Her knuckles ran over him, lazy caresses full of intent. Up and down, up and down. Delicate. Deliberate. The blood racing to his groin, the pleasant swelling, made his abdomen twitch. Soon full and heavy, the sensitive tip straining the cotton seams, he pressed his lips together. When she skimmed the tender skin resting on his inner thigh, he flexed the muscle at the base of his erection. It bobbed and hit her wrist and she let loose a girlish giggle, more intoxicating than wine.

With her left leg draped over him at the knee, she undulated against his rear. Plush lips brushed the boney knobs of his spine, damp breath fanned the nape of his neck, labored, needy. Pebbled nipples grazed his back through the thin nylon of her nightgown, taunting and compelling. He made up his mind to throw an arm around her, to yank her on top of him. To eagerly take part in her seduction.

But she withdrew from his bottoms to palm his stomach and plant a gentle kiss to the shell of his ear, whispering, "Sleep tight." The mattress shifted and she rolled away from him. He furrowed his brows. She rarely relented this easily - other times he'd awakened, hard and aching, enveloped by the captivating wetness of her mouth. What was she up to?

Covers rustled. Her calf bumped his. And the opposite of what he'd assumed occurred. Instead of light footfalls leading out of the room, there was silence, silence that seemed to stretch on and on...

Until a hitched gasp gave her away.

Touching herself. She was touching herself. She'd just been all over him, acted like he was some sort of model on the cover of Vue magazine, and now she was touching herself. Right beside him! Ecstatic to have inspired such brazenness, he grinned and fisted the pillow. Her fleeting, stifled moans tangled him in knots, implored him to give her what they both burned for.

He flipped in her direction, his hand shooting under the sheet to grab hers. "Gotcha."

Eyes wide, she gaped at him in surprise. But adoration softened her expression as she entwined their fingers. "How long have you been awake?" she asked.

"Long enough."

He stretched to rewind the shades, the diaphanous curtains staying in place. Sunlight diffused over them, wrapped around her face, lent her disheveled hair a warm luster. He twirled a feathered lock and pecked her eyelids. "Finishing what you started on the subway, hm?"

"Me?" Y/N brought his knuckles to her mouth.  "You're the one who came to bed without any underwear."

"Well, it was a late night." The pad of his thumb tugged at her bottom lip to reveal the pink tip of her tongue. He bent to claim it. "I was lucky to find my pajamas."

Chuckling, she broke their connection. "Did you have a good time?"

"Yeah. The cake was good. And the music. Everyone was nice."

"Patricia loved having you there. She thought you were very sweet." A pause as she mapped a dimple. "Matt said he'd upset you. Something stupid about breaking up?"

Vague shadows of discomfort flashed through Arthur, a frustration he'd mostly moved on from. He did his best to ignore it, waving her concern away. "Don't worry about it."

"He was just jealous, you know." Her nails ran along the small of his back. "He wants Laura to look at him the way I look at you."

Arthur had spent so much of his life yearning for change, to understand his purpose in the world and improve himself. The idea that a man with a good education, a successful career, and no disabilities could ever be jealous of him was, frankly, bizarre. But he didn't correct Y/N, instead locking her praise within his heart, preserving it for when he needed it most. He boosted himself on his forearm and fiddled with her V-neck, traced its button loops as he slipped the plastic knobs through them. "And how's that?'

A hint of scandal glimmered in her irises. She arched into him as he eased a strap down her upper arm to reveal her shapely breast, the lilac fabric momentarily catching on its taut peak. "Like I can't get enough of you."

He huffed at that, fondled her faintly before his lips met the velvety skin of her chest. A tonic comprised of the musk oil she'd dabbed on before the party and distinct sexual wanting wafted to his nostrils. He licked at her nipple, the bumps on her areola, and drew it between his teeth. She whined softly and lifted the bottom of her nightdress to her waist.

Hurriedly, he yanked on the waistband of her cotton panties, pushed them past her knees. She kicked them off while he knelt to lower his bottoms. Straddling her, he pumped himself back to hardness and opened the drawer of her nightstand. He searched haphazardly until he retrieved a small, glass bottle of lubricant. (She'd ordered it from a mail catalog, both of them a bit too bashful to walk into an adult shop, even together.)

She snagged it from him and poured half a teaspoon in her hand, then palmed herself. He moved between her legs and she grasped his length, coating him with the warm, slippery liquid. He pushed forward into her. Gradually, slowly, savoring every millimeter of her enticing heat. He noted the stretch of her mouth, the jut of her jaw, the lifting of her upper lip. "Mmm..." she breathed and begged him to keep going. When he did, her head tilted back into the pillow, eyelids falling shut. A smile cut across her cheeks as she purred her satisfaction. "Arthur, I love you."

His touch wandered down the curve of her thigh. At the sight of her subtle writhing beneath him, the sway of her slightly uneven breasts in time with his languid thrusts, he pushed her knee into the mattress, splayed her wider. He grunted lowly. "Look at me."

Their gazes met but didn't hold for long; hers dropped to where they were joined. She caressed right above his pubic bone. "I love seeing you like this." Her fingertips walked a line up his sternum to his chest. "And touching you like this." She wrapped her arms around his middle and drew him to her, locked their lips in a greedy kiss. "And making love like this."

He snorted. "I think this is the only reason you married me."

"Well, not the only reason. There's your good hair, too."

"I've been thinking about cutting it. Trying something new."

"Don't you dare." She tugged at his loose curls, wore her best pout. "What else would I hold onto when we're doing this?"

Laughing lightly, he bumped his nose to hers. Falling into her was like falling into his old fantasies, the ones that'd sustained him through years of isolation. Dates at diners, at comedy clubs, at donut shops, at home. Their shapes had changed as he'd matured, his role in them, his aspirations and infatuations. But they'd remained a warm comfort nonetheless, a place that felt like belonging. And now he belonged with her. Hunger filled him. Happiness. And love. So much love, more than he'd ever believed he'd carried in him. He bucked a little harder. "You feel so good," he murmured. "You make me feel so good."

A strained cry left her and her pelvis answered his steady rhythm with demands of its own. Her calves rose to squeeze him closer, encircle his narrow hips. They were pressed together so tightly; it felt like they were one flesh. He never wanted it to stop. But a dizzying euphoria had ignited, one that eclipsed the romantic yearnings of his heart, twisting his desire to last all morning into the desperate drive to possess her. Gasping, Arthur raised himself to his knees, delving deeper with each push. Their foreheads met and he grit his teeth at the scald of her, the texture of her walls. She fit as though she'd been made for him.

He supposed she was.

Pressure began in the base of him, building and building in terrific torment. The muscles of his inner thighs contracted inward. Tingling climbed his shaft, his tailbone, his spine. He wove his fingers into the sheet, his grip a vise that wrested its corner from the mattress. She kissed the spot where his jaw met his neck, all the while murmuring encouragements for him to let himself go.

Bliss shot through him, from the tips of his toes to the follicles on his scalp, and his back stiffened as he whimpered and poured into. Fever engulfed his frame, sublime in its frenzy, leaving him in a heady stupor. Aftershocks made him tremble. Once, twice. Until, sated and spent, he landed on top her. He closed his eyes, ribs rising and falling as he forced air into his lungs.

A minute later, he swallowed and looked down at her. "You didn't come."

She carded through his sweaty locks. "It's all righ-"

"Shh." He slid out of her and settled at her side, reached between her legs to swipe at her core. "I'm not done," he declared, tracing the edges of her entrance, slick and swollen. One of his favorite things about getting her off was demonstrating his prowess in bed, how well he'd learned with her. His thumb met her plump clitoral hood, and he felt her throb beneath his ministrations.

Nails biting his bicep, she rocked upwards. A bewitching blush crept up her breast, her neck, spread across her cheeks. Shallow pants hit his face, short puffs suffused with high-pitched whines, utterly irresistible. He circled her nub at a steady cadence, tapping when she'd shiver, and she clasped the back of his hand. He swirled his tongue around her nipple, sucked the pretty peak, and lowered the other strap of her nightgown to bare her completely. A hushed plea fell from her lips. "Please, please..."

Suddenly, her vulva grew white hot and she seized, her hips stuttering with each flutter of his touch to her folds. She thrusts her breasts towards him, a sharp moan caught in her throat. Liquid pooled against his fingers, proof of her rapture that made him wish, with mild amusement, that he could be an unmedicated young man again. He would've gladly taken her a second time.

Giggling and rubbing her temple, she released a long exhale and opened her eyes. He brushed her hair back and grinned, completely smitten, like the first time he'd heard a joke and understood the punchline. The light brown picture frame on his nightstand caught his attention, and he regarded the wallet size photo in it, one of the shots of Y/N from the booth at Amusement Mile. The last thing he looked at before turning in each night. He lay his head her shoulder and hummed, listened to the drum of her heart.

She smooched his hairline and wriggled out from beneath him to stand. Her nightie had been reduced to a crumpled stripe of lilac cinched about her waist. It felt tawdry and shameless and he wanted to see her in it for the rest of the weekend. But she peeled it down her legs, wrinkling her nose when it got stuck on her thighs, and stepped out of it one foot at a time. She dropped it on the floral bedspread and retrieved her bathrobe from the closet. "Meet you in the kitchen," she said, opening the door.

The sun had risen higher, its beams slanting across the covers. He basked in it, catlike, then swung his legs over the side of the bed. He pulled on his pajamas, got a new pair of socks from their dresser, and made his way to the kitchen. He washed off the remnants of Y/N's arousal from his fingers, popped open a prescription bottle and took a tablet. He poured water into the coffeemaker, grabbed the can of grounds from the second shelf, added three scoops to the paper filter. Their three-tone brown mugs sat in their spot next to the machine, waiting to be filled.

When the glass coffeepot was half full, Y/N emerged from the bathroom, chuckling to herself. She opened the breadbox on the opposite counter and took out a wax paper bag. "Do you have any idea how dull this morning would have been if we'd never met? I'd have read the Sunday paper, had a drink. Probably worked on a file." He handed her a couple dessert plates, watched her put a donut on each one. "I wonder where you'd be. What woman you'd have breakfast with, what jokes you'd be writing, what magic tricks you'd have learned."

"Um..." At first he wanted to ask where this speculation had come from, if Matt had let her in on exactly what he'd said. But the confident slant of her smirk told Arthur she was teasing. He tried to play along but winced. No matter how appealing, how extraordinary she found him, his gut told him there wouldn't have been another woman. There'd be no more stand-up routines, no more Carnival. He certainly wouldn't be taking care of Penny. He'd likely be locked up in the hospital, maybe even dead. Without an anchor, his life would have lost what little sense it had.

Y/N was one of his anchors now, hooked into the sand alongside his material, treatment, the ability to pay bills. He seized her hand and squeezed it tight, unaware he was squishing her fingers. "I don't wanna think about it," he said quietly.

She sidled up to him and pulled him to her side. Rubbed his flank soothingly and pecked the corner of his mouth. "Don't worry." She took his chin and guided him to look at her. The intimate comfort of her smile helped him believe her next words, even before she spoke them. "I'll always be here."

~~~~~

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added!): @harmonioussolve @ithinkimaperson @sweet-nothings04 @stephieraptorr @rommies @fallenstarsabyss @gruffle1 @octopus-plasma @tsukiakarinobara @arthur-flecks-lovely-smile @another-day-in-chuckletown @hhandley80 @jokerownsmysoul @fakestreet​ @ralugraphics​​ @iartsometimes​

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck fanfic #arthur fleck smut #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x female reader #arthur fleck x ofc #joker 2019 #watchwhathappens

[whereisten]

Forever Yours

A Xiao Jun fic that’s part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: you’re a fallen angel that can’t find her way back to Heaven, and Xiao Jun, the one person that can help you, just can’t seem to remember things. This, however, doesn’t stop him from falling in love with you more and more each day.

Pairing: Angel!Reader X Café Owner!Xiao Jun (was an angel as well)

Genre: fluff, romance, angst

Warnings: brief mention of violence, Lucifer!Jaehyun, death mention, physical illness mention, religious themes (its not deep at ALL, just mentions of God and angels tbh, please do not take offense, this is just my personal perception).

Word Count: 6.1k

(A/N: thank you all again for taking the time to read and reblog our fics!! We appreciate all the support and are having a blast with these creations! I hope you like this one and come back tomorrow for the next one! Also, I am tired and did not proofread! Sorry🥺)

——————-

You fell through the sky hard and fast with one image in your mind.

The face of Jaehyun, God’s most beautiful angel. He had turned on you, on all of you. 

“Jaehyun?! Why have you betrayed us?!” You cried as he fought you at the edge of Heaven. His eyes displayed a deep shade of red that you hadn’t seen before.

You were one of God’s most faithful warriors and so was he, yet he had turned on God and the rest of you, starting war with his own dark angels at his side.

“Because they killed her, y/n! I loved her!” He said as he grabbed your arm and swung you over the edge.

He held your arm as you dangled from the edge.

With tears in your eyes. “Jaehyun..please, stop this, think of the rest of us, we are suffering.”

Jaehyun cried as well, the two of you had grown together like siblings. You never expected this day to come. The day when you watch your family be torn to pieces and thrown from the kingdom.

Jaehyun still held your arm in a tight grip as he debated whether or not he should let you go. 

“Please..Jaehyun. I love you, we all love you. God will forgive you.”

Jaehyun’s look of uncertainty turns to one of anger, he burns you with fire from his hands. “I do not seek forgiveness..Goodbye, y/n.”

He releases you and watches you fall through the sky, before turning back to continue the fight.

Your wings could not save you as you fell too fast, like a meteor. You couldn’t see anything but his face, you couldn’t feel anything but sadness as your heart broke.

You threw your arms about for something to grab, but you only grasped the thin structures of clouds as your world transitioned from that of Heaven and then to Earth.

You couldn’t call on God or any of the other angels. All you could do was fly down through the sky and hope for a safe landing.

You should’ve died by now, the fire created by your pummeling body should have decimated you, but you weren’t shunned out by God. You were being protected by them, for being relieved by them was the only way for you to perish completely.

And then it happened. You finally collided into Earth.

But you felt no pain as the blanket provided by God offered a soft cushion to your backside.

You sighed and relaxed into the ground. You retracted your wings and turned over to your side, holding your face as you cried yourself to sleep.

————

You squint your eyes as you feel slobber coat your face.

“Hello??” You slowly open them, only to see the long tongue of..a dog.

“Uhh..hi.” You hear a male voice say.

He was so stunned by your beauty, he didn’t tell his dog to stop kissing you. You laid there barefoot in a long white silk dress . Your skin glowed brightly as a strange aura rested around you. Gold specs decorated your skin as well, making it sparkle in the sunlight. Then he saw an imprint of a hand on your wrist.

You suddenly sat up straight, quickly wiped your face. “What is this?” A look of disgust crosses your face.

“Oh! Oh, um Bella! Stop that!” The male says to the dog and pats her behind.

You open your eyes finally. The sun is bright, not as bright as it was in Heaven but still too much for you sleepy eyes.

Then you see him and gasp.

“Xiao Jun?!” You blink rapidly.

“Wait..how do you know my name?”

You stumble to your feet. “You’re here! And your brows are still bushy as ever” you laughed out, but he stood there with a look of confusion on his face.

“I’m sorry I think you have mistaken me with someone else.”

“It’s not a coincidence that I would land here. God let me fall to you!” You were beyond happy to see him, someone that knew of the world you came from and this world as well.

“Listen, I have no clue what you’re talking about, but come with me, I’ll get you help.”

He turns to leave.

“Xiao Jun, it’s me! Y/n! We grew up together! We trained together, and then you..”

He turned back to you and gave you a frightening glare.

“Listen, somehow you’ve ended up in me and my roommates backyard..which is now..ruined like it’s been destroyed by a fire. I don’t know why you decided to set fire to our backyard then proceed to lay in it’s ashes, but I’m calling the cops.”

“What?” Your face fell. You turned to look behind you and saw that the yard had in fact been ruined by your landing.

But even more surprising was the fact that Xiao Jun didn’t remember you or have his angelic identity as he did when you knew him long ago.

And then, it all came back to you, the rumor of what happened to Angel Xiao Jun.

Xiao Jun was an angel like you, he was assigned to protect a human lady on Earth, but he couldn’t keep himself from falling in love with her. He fled Heaven just to be with her, leaving you and the other angels in shock.

God was anything but happy with Xiao Jun’s decision and decided to curse him by erasing his memory. Xiao Jun landed on Earth with his wings, but God took them away along with the vision God blessed all angels with. It was rumored that Xiao Jun essentially became a normal human. He didn’t remember his human love, his life as an angel, nor how to get back to heaven.

But if he couldn’t find his way back to Heaven, that meant you wouldn’t be able to either. 

If there was a way to get him to remember , he might be able to lead you back since he landed with his own free will.

“Hello? What are you staring at?” He waved a wand in your face to break you out of your daze.

“Xiao Jun..you have to remember.”

“That’s it..let’s go.” He shakes his head and takes you by the hand to lead you out of his yard.

“Hey! You can’t do this..I’m an—“

You hesitated, you were sworn to keep your identity as an angel hidden when dealing with humans. 

“A criminal that I’m going to press charges against? Yeah, I already knew that.”

“Xiao Jun! Please, let me explain..”

He still dragged you to what you believed was his car as you whined.

“I don’t want to hear it, you pyromaniac.”

His dog, Bella, followed behind the two of you, barking her head off as you were being dragged by him.

You can feel yourself start to lose energy, your health is failing because you are on Earth. God had ensured that all angels stayed angels by cursing them with multiple ways to breathe. Of course, you had the regular way of breathing through longs like the average human, then you had the premium way of breathing through your wings.

Your wings would start to lose their feathers and you would die a little more with each loss. 

You had to get back, you had to make him remember if you wanted to live.

“Xiao Jun!” You put your feet down, and made yourself as heavy as stone.

He nearly fell backwards as he stopped and turned to you. “What the-“

“You leave me no choice..go to sleep.”

Xiao Jun scoffed. “This lady..listen, I’m not gonna—“ his eyes close suddenly as he starts to fall to the floor.

You quickly dipped down and held him in your arms.

Bella wouldn’t stop barking at the sight of her owner helpless and in the arms of some strange woman.

“Bella..I’m sorry, but you must go to sleep too.” You snapped your finger and watched as she whimpered quietly then laid down on her side.

“Good dog.”

You turned back to Xiao Jun. He was gorgeous, even in his human form. He was still beautiful with high cheekbones and the nicest eyes you had ever seen, they were deep and commanding. He was one of God’s greatest warriors as well, but then love took over. 

You laid him down on the floor gently.

“Xiao Jun..please..think of your journey to Earth..how did you get here? At what point on Earth can I access the gate? Please remember..” you whispered quietly.

“He came out of his mom, so no, I don’t think you can access the gate.” Another male voice spoke.

You stood up quickly and turned to him. A tall gentleman stood at the front door and raised his bat.

“What the hell are you doing to him and our dog?”

You shook your head. “I don’t want to do this to you too..please just go.”

“I’m not going anywhere, the police are on their way.”

Your eyes widened. You didn’t have much time, you had to get him to remember.

You dropped back to your knees and raised your hands over his head while closing your eyes. 

The other man’s eyes grew as he watched strange blue and white lights apart from your fingertips as they hovered over his head.

“Hey! Hey stop that right now!”

“Lucas! Go to sleep!”

You called out.

“Wait, how do you know my-“ the tall figure fell to the floor in a loud clunk.

You tried to see Xiao Jun’s memories, but you got nothing, they only went back so far. You couldn’t find his childhood memories, you couldn’t find the moment he woke up here, nothing was clear other than the fact that God was making this incredibly difficult for you.

But you had to prove yourself worthy of your return anyway, you wouldn’t stop.

You released all three from their sleep spells right after fleeing the scene before police arrived.

Xiao Jun and Lucas were both confused when they woke up. And when asked about the woman by police, they said they didn’t know what happened or where you went.

The police got upset and left.

That night, you tried to influence Xiao Jun’s dreams by inputting your own memories of Heaven. You laid under his bed and made sure to make yourself invisible to his dog. You raised your hands and started to manipulate his dreams as he snored.

Beautiful, majestic images flooded his brain as he dreamt. He saw what you had seen. All of the angels roaming about, speaking and laughing with each other as you enjoyed your time together. You started to cry as you saw the wonderful images of your family. You wondered what had happened to them and if they were okay, you hoped that the demons led by Jaehyun didn’t win.

———

[The Next Day]

Xiao Jun arose and went to work. He owned a café not too far from his home. 

But as he drove he couldn't stop thinking about you. How beautiful and dangerous you were. He wondered where you had gone and what you had done to make him go to sleep.

And his dreams, why were they so vivid and pretty? What was this place he dreamt of because surely he had never been to it?

He shook his thoughts off and turned his car off.

His day went on as it usually did. He served up cupcakes and biscuits with a smile.

You watched from a cloud above as he smiled at his visitors. He truly enjoyed his job and you liked that, you liked that he was attentive to everyone’s needs. Even those of the old citizens that just wanted a little more sugar in their coffee or a napkin.

You winced in pain, holding your wrist as Jaehyun’s burn mark remained bright on your skin. It was ingrained into it, like you had been stamped with a hot iron.

That wasn't the only source of your pain. You were growing weaker and to even fly to this low cloud was a chore. Your wings weren’t as efficient, you found yourself using up too much of your power to raise your body onto the cloud.

Around lunchtime when he had a break, you came back down and entered. You floated through a department store before, grabbing a large brown coat and a hat to wear over your dress. You also slipped on a pair of loafers and begged for God’s forgiveness as you manipulated the camera footage as well as the vision of the cashiers to steal without detection.

You sat down at the table he sat at while he sipped a coffee from a mug and scrolled on his phone.

He furrowed his brows and looked up at you. 

“I’m taking a break, ma’am.” He said annoyingly.

“Do you remember anything?” You raise your head slowly.

Xiao Jun puts his mug down and stands up.

“What..what are you doing here? Why are you stalking me?”

You take your hat off, revealing your sad expression and wide eyes.

“I will not put you to sleep again if you just talk to me, Xiao Jun.”

He shakes his head. “I’m calling the police.” 

“No!” You stand up and the place shakes violently. Cups clink against each other and sway back and forth, threatening to fall from the high counter tops.

He looks around in terror. “Okay, fine, what do you want from me?!”

“I need you to remember.”

“Well, I don’t, okay? I don’t know where I can from, I was adopted. I was thrown away like a piece of crap by my mother and raised by someone else. That’s all I remember! Now, get out!”

He pointed to the door, causing the café visitors to gasp. They never saw the owner get like this.

He was telling the truth, he was confused and didn’t know what you were talking about and why you were pressuring him to remember things he tried to forget. 

You nodded and accepted defeat.

So you got up and left, but you still didn’t give up.

———

[A Few Days Later]

You tried to adopt human life until you could get back.

You felt sick on most days, but tried your best to power through your pain.

You slept on the clouds and showered in waterfalls. You continued to steal clothes and shoes. Luckily, you didn’t need to eat. Instead, you’d walk around and secretly help those that needed it. For instance, you guided an old couple crossing the street, or you’d sneak some candy to a child that cried because they’d drop their lollipop.

You also did your best to heal anyone with minor health issues like the flu that you passed by. With your vision, you could see weak hearts or pulses, and to those people, you’d touch them briefly to provide a helpful spark.

Watching Earth from above and being on it were two completely different things. It wasn’t pretty and not many people were nice. There’s so much heartache and pain. It reminded you of why it is so important for you to get back and help the other angels. They must’ve been suffering right now as the humans were because of the war between good and evil.

You visited Xiao Jun once again.

He sighed as he walked over to the table you sat at while reading a book. 

And once again, you looked unbelievably beautiful. Your hair shined brightly in the sun and the aura around you never left. He somewhat believed you were otherworldly.

He raised his eyebrows. “You know, if you weren’t a weird stalker, I’d probably ask you out..”

He sat down across from you.

You smiled then put your book down.

“Who was your first love?”

Xiao Jun cackled. 

You thought maybe if he remembered WHO he fled heaven for, there’d be a chance he’d remember everything. 

“Uh..that’s a weird question, but once again, what can I expect from you..hmm..how about I ask the questions today..”

He tilts his head and points to himself.

You cough into your hands, when you look down into your palm, you see black blood. Your health was quickly deteriorating, you were giving too much of your power up by helping others while being away from heaven for so long.

You quickly grabbed your napkin and wiped it before he could see.

“Go ahead.” You nod.

He smiled and you felt your chest weaken. Why were you, an angel, feeling such childish things?

“Who are you? Where are you from?”

“My name is y/n..I’m from H—Hawaii.”

“What do you do for a living miss y/n?” He looks on you sternly.

“I save people..Um like a..like a nurse!” You grinned

“Okay, so you’ll be able to pay for the damages to my yard right?” 

Your smile fell.

Xiao Jun still smiled widely. “That’s what I thought.” He got up and walked back to the kitchen.

“Xiao Jun, we might as well be friends, I mean, I don’t have anyone..”

He stopped in his tracks and turned to you slowly, he glanced down at your wrist.

“What do you mean you don’t have anyone?” 

Quickly. You had to come up with a story, quickly.

“I-I came here to start over, I need help.”

He stepped closer to you. “Y/n..did someone hurt you?”

His eyes were sincere, you hoped once again that God would forgive you for lying.

You nodded slowly.

Xiao Jun sighed. He thought it was strange that you just popped up in his yard, but then he thought maybe you were fleeing from someone, maybe you really did need help. And he was just too kind. In an instant, he felt the urge to protect you. He didn’t know why he was like that, even though it had proven time and time again to only hurt him in the end. He was loyal and kind to the wrong people, people that took advantage of him.

“Luckily for you, Lucas is moving out this weekend so..I have an empty room in the house.”

Your eyes grew large. He swore he could see specks of silver in them, you were an anomaly in front of his eyes. There was something so indescribable yet familiar about you.

“Does that mean-?!”

“Yes...yes, strange woman, you can stay with me.. But only until you find a place of your own! I’ll give you three months to get it together.” He turned from you and headed to the back again, leaving you a jumping ball of excitement in the center of his cafe.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! I can work for you here too if you’d like!”

“No!” He quickly shouted out from the kitchen. 

You laughed and smiled to yourself.

You were happy to get closer to him, but you knew that you didn’t have three months. You’d be dead by then.

You had to get him to remember his one true love.

———

[1 Month Later]

You turned to look at yourself in the mirror of your bathroom, you released your wings. They weren’t as bright and full as they should’ve been, every day you lost feathers and every day Xiao Jun would curse as he found them on his floor.

“Where do they keep coming from?!” He said from the living room.

You stepped down the stairs in a large t shirt and shorts. “I’m sorry, I think I must’ve broken a pillow or something.”

Xiao Jun threw his head back and flailed his arms.

“How in the WORLD do you break a pillow?!”

You laughed as he made a big deal out of everything like he usually did. But you missed the last step on the stairs. You fell forward and was about to save yourself, but Xiao Jun quickly grabbed your arms and held you on him to stabilize you.

Time moved in slow motion as you gazed at each other. You had never been this close before and Xiao Jun smelled your hair. You smelled like peppermint. But your skin, it felt incredibly smooth and cool, like the finest silk in the world.

“Oh..thank you.”

You stood up straight and waited for him to remove his arms, but he didn’t. His fox-like eyes stared at your lips.

You stared at his as well and swallowed hard.. oh, how you wanted to feel his lips on yours.

But you needed to cough, you quickly brushed his hands off and ran to the downstairs bathroom.

You coughed loudly, uncontrollably.

Black blood splattered across the sink. 

“Are you okay?!” He yelled as he ran after you.

You looked up at the mirror and saw a black stream escaping out of your nostril.

You quickly washed your face. He swung the door open right after.

“Are you alright? That doesn’t sound good, we should go to the doctor.”

‘We.’

Xiao Jun was so caring, he still retained some of his angelic qualities.

You pat your face dry and look away from him. “I’m fine, it’s just a..cough.”

He still looked worried. “How do you feel? Is there anything you want?”

I don’t know, I want so much, but more than anything right now, I want to kiss you.

That is what you wanted to say, but you couldn’t.

“Xiao Jun..I promise, I’m fine.” You left the restroom sadly. 

He stood there in the doorway and looked at the sink, noting how a singular drop of strange black liquid rested on the counter.

———

[1 Week Later]

You sat and watched movies on the couch while waiting for Xiao Jun to come back home from work.

When he got home, he plopped down on the couch and sat beside you. “Whatcha watching?”

He got comfortable as you pulled your legs up to your chest to make space for him.

He pat his thighs. “Put them here.”

“Ehhh it’s called Nightmare on Elm Street, it’s pretty boring though.”

You stretched your leg back out and placed your feet on him.

“Pretty boring? This is one of the greatest horror films of all time!”

“And what’s so great about it?” You turned to him with a smirk, waiting for him to make a dramatic argument.

When you finished watching him speak softly as he explained it to you, you fell asleep.

He watched you in your peaceful state. You still looked perfect and precious, your long lashes darting across your cheeks and your lips perfectly pursed.

He smiled to himself.

You coughed a few times, but still slept.

He always noticed your persistent cough, but whenever he asked you about it, you brushed him off and changed the subject.

———

As days went by, you did your best to help Xiao Jun remember her, but he couldn’t. You tapped into his memories once again, but couldn’t gain a clear picture of who he was. He was the only one that knew deep down.

Your hope started to fade as your health did. Why didn’t any of the angels come down to retrieve you? Why did you feel alone?

Bella came up to you as you sat at a desk in your room and thought about what to do.

She rested her head on your thigh and looked up at you with big brown eyes.

You put your hand on her head and out of curiosity, you got into her mind and saw her memories as well.

You closed your eyes and saw images of her dog food, Lucas petting her or throwing a toy to her, and then her memories with Xiao Jun.

He was laughing and smiling as he let her. He walked with her on the beach, or through the neighborhood, he’d cuddle her. He looked so happy. Then you saw a memory that troubled your heart.

It was of Xiao Jun sitting on the bathroom floor and holding his head in his hands, he was sobbing. Something had hurt him deeply and Bella was the only one to see it.

You wondered what it was that made him like that.

When you let go of Bella’s head, you got up and looked for Xiao Jun.

“Hmmm..where is he?”

Bella led you outside.

Xiao Jun laid on the grass, snacking on an apple as he hummed a tune to himself and watched the stars above.

You laid down beside him.

A moment of silence rested between the two of you.

“Xiao Jun..what is it that makes you hurt?”

He chuckles. “A ruined backyard.”

Your face grew into a smile. You turned over on your side. “No, seriously. Tell me.”

He looked down at you and blushed. He couldn’t help himself. Everything you did was cute to him, from the way your eyes grew when you got excited to the way you pouted when he didn’t answer your nagging questions.

He swallowed hard and thought of your question. 

His face grew more serious. “I don’t remember much..my memory..it’s so bad..”

You knew exactly why.

“But I remember the feeling of disparity, heartache, and just pure pain. It feels like I’ve lost something, but I don’t know what it is. Some days..the pain is so unbearable, all I can do is cry.” He looks back up to the sky.

“Thank you for being honest with me, Xiao Jun. you know, living with you isn't that bad.”

He turns over to look at you as you watch the night sky. The stars dazzle in your eyes.

“Well, it sounds like you’re getting too comfortable. What can I do to make it bad enough for you to leave?” He laughs.

You laugh as well and shake your head. “I don’t know, you can start off with not looking as good as you always do.”

“You think I look good?” He put his chin in his hand and raised his brows.

“Of course, you look wonderful..” you felt your face become warm.

He leaned over you as you laughed. You stared at his lips and waited for the moment. You knew it was coming and you wanted it more than ever. He kissed you.

You felt something new in your body. A spark of energy ran through you as he caressed your lips with his.

You closed your eyes and kissed him back softly before raising yourself up on your elbows to get closer to him.

He holds your face in his hand and rubs his thumb over your cheek.

He turned his head as he deepened the kiss and enjoyed every moment. Your smell, your taste, your warmth. It was refreshing and made him feel like he was vacationing on the beach somewhere. You felt unreal, his mind went blank as he felt a strong breeze against his face. He saw sunshine and clouds, he felt silk on his thumb and joy in his veins.

And when he pulled away to breathe, he placed his forehead on yours. Both of you still close your eyes and breathe heavily.

Everything feels good and fuzzy, you feel love towards him and don’t want to stop.

Then you feel it again. You quickly turn to your side to avoid coughing up black stuff on him.

“I’m sorry.” You croak out. Your happy feeling fades as reality sets in. You’re dying. You can’t do this to him, you can’t fall in love and leave.

So you stand up and lick your lips. “I’m sorry Xiao Jun, but we can’t.”

He opens his mouth to protest but you turn away and walk into the house quickly.

———

[Two Weeks Later]

You take another look at your wings. There are almost no more feathers left. You break down in tears in the bathroom.

Your time with Xiao Jun had been wonderful, even since that night. He taught you how to roller skate, you went to the dog park on the weekends and you even got to try alcohol for the very first time with him.

There were many stolen glances and moments of admiration, but there was nothing official and you didn’t allow for another kiss even though he wanted it so badly.

Then one day, Xiao Jun is frozen in his tracks. She’s there, the woman of dreams. He feels a pull to her that is undeniable.

You walk into the cafe just as Xiao Jun begins to speak to her. You notice that change in his facial expression, the way that he is just so happy to be looking at this woman, and it clicks, for something changes in the air.

“That’s her..” you say to yourself quietly.

You feel jealousy, and it’s not good. How can an angel have any sense of that in their heart? Maybe you weren’t worthy of being an angel anymore.

Maybe you had lost your way. You should be excited, this meant that he could possibly remember everything.

Xiao Jun doesn’t notice you so you walk out of the café and head home.

You flew through the sky, dipping into it as you struggled to hold yourself up. Why were you crying? He was happy, as he should be. 

Once Xiao Jun gets home, he has the biggest smile on his face. “I met the loveliest woman today!” He yells out to you.

“I know..I saw her.”

“She’s beautiful! She gave me her number and told me she’ll be back tomorrow!”

“That’s great to hear..because..”

“Because what?” Xiao Jun sits next to you at the table.

“I have something to tell you, Xiao Jun.”

“Go ahead.” 

“I am..an angel. That day when you found me..I had fallen, or well, been thrown from Heaven. I lost my way, I needed you to take me back.”

Xiao Jun can’t hold back his laughter. “Ahhh you’re funny.”

“I’m serious...the girl that you met today..she’s the one you were assigned to protect when you were an angel too.”

“Stop it, you sound crazy.”

“You were an angel,  Xiao Jun, that’s why you can’t remember anything. You left heaven for her and God cursed you by removing your memory of everything, including her.”

He stands up from the couch. “How dare you insult me for my memory loss by creating such ridiculous stories.”

“I wish it was just a story, but it’s not.”

He starts to walk away. “This is bullshit!”

You release your things wings, causing a swooshing sound to enter the house.

He turns and looks back at you. His eyes widen when he sees your nearly empty wings, bones expand from your body as feathers dangle loosely and in sparse areas.

“This is the only way for me to prove that I am telling you the truth..”

“I-what are you.?” He says with fear in his eyes.

“Xiao Jun, if you can remember how you got here, you can help me get back. Or I’ll die..please.” You step forward and hold your hand out.

“This is crazy!” He backs away, running out as you stand there with tears in your eyes.

———

[1 Month Later]

You lay alone and gasp for air, taking your final breaths.

Things never worked out with Xiao Jun, you terrified him with the truth and ran away shortly after. You no longer lived with him, you slept in an abandoned cabin and went back to showering in waterfalls.

You hoped that he would remember everything now that she sparked love in his heart, but you were wrong and now you were left to die a fallen angel, cold and alone.

“God..please forgive me for failing you..I call on you..in my most desperate time of need, oh God.”

Your eyes close and everything fades.

Xiao Jun was now dating his first love and one night, he dreamt of everything, with some strange and possibly Godly intervention, he saw his past. He remembered everything. 

He woke up and knew he had to find you, for he knew of the gate and where it was.

He searched in his backyard for you and found nothing. He looked all over town, nothing.

Then, one day, something drew him to a particular point in town.  He furrowed his brows as he drove and looked everywhere for you.

“Ahhhh..Xiao Jun, long time no see.”

Xiao Jun nearly drove off the road when a voice spoke out from his back seat. He hadn’t noticed that someone was there. He looked into the rear view mirror.

“What the?!..who are you?!”

“Come on, Xiao Jun, I know you remember me now. Who do you think gave you your memories back?”

“Winwin?” He quickly turned to him.

Winwin nodded.

“Yeah..it took you long enough.”

“Where is she?”

“Oh, I know where she is, but God has kept me from telling you where she is..” Winwin looks out the window.

Xiao Jun scoffs. “That’s ridiculous! Tell me where she is so she can live!”

He starts to drive faster.

“It is not God’s will for you to hear it from me.” Winwin says smoothly and shrugs his shoulders.

“Okay, first of all, why are you here then? And also, tell God they can f-“ 

Xiao Jun is interrupted by a random lightning strike just a few feet from his car.

He grasps the steering wheel as the car spins and becomes unbalanced.

Winwin only chuckles. “Oh, God did not like your tone.”

Xiao Jun finally straightens up on the road and turns back to Winwin with a frustrated look.

“A little birdy tells me her time is almost up.” Winwin nods his head slightly to the right then disappears.

Xiao Jun glances to his right and sees an advertisement for the local bird sanctuary.

“A little birdy...that bastard.”

———

Xiao Jun finally finds you in the center of the sanctuary. Your wings are out and completely featherless.

“Y/n..” he shakes you gently. 

Birds fly over his head as he tries to wake you up.

“Please...God..please save her.” Xiao Jun begins to cry. He wished he had believed you, he wished he could just see your smile one more time. “I am so sorry, y/n..please forgive me.” He cries harder and rocks your body back and forth in his arms.

“Oh, Xiao Jun, this is what happens when you leave the kingdom..God has given you two options.”

He is startled by the voice and looks around for the source of the cool, low voice.

And there he is. Winwin sits on a tree branch and watches him below.

“God said to tell you to choose between staying here and living with your lover but watch y/n die, or come back to the kingdom and bring y/n..you can never leave again.”

Xiao Jun scoffs, how could God be so cruel?

“Winwin, I messed up, please take her back with you.”

Winwin flies down the two of you and lifts your arm, but it’s as heavy as stone, you can’t be moved by him.

“As you can see..it is not God’s will for me to take her back.” Winwin steps back.

“What will you decide, Xiao Jun?”

———-

You peel your eyes open as someone delicately taps your forehead with a wet cloth. You expect to see the dull world you were just in, but instead you see beautiful skylines and specs of gold in the air. You hear the singing of angels, and smell peppermint mixed with rosemary.. You’re back home.

You sit up straight, you can feel that you’ve healed a little bit.

“What happened?”

“He brought you back, y/n.”

“Who did?” You furrow your brows.

“I forgot how beautiful it is here.” A voice from beside you speaks out. You didn’t notice there was a body beside you on the recovery bed. Then you saw Bella jumping around at the foot of the floating bed.

You look over to see Xiao Jun and without much more thought, you smile widely and pull him into a strong embrace.

“Xiao Jun?!”

You look at him with his full set of gold wings and wide smile.

“What happened?”

“I remembered everything, then God gave me two options.” He still smiled while he looked at your bright face.

Your smile fell as you searched his eyes.

“No..” you said quietly. You knew him being here meant that he couldn’t be with her, his first love.

So why did he choose to be with you?

Xiao Jun nodded.

“I liked her..don’t get me wrong..but I-“

He hesitated while he looked deep into your beautiful eyes.

“I love you.”

Your mouth rose again into the sweetest smile he had seen.

The two of you lived in the kingdom, protecting and healing others together. You’d watch more scary movies and roller skate on the clouds.

And when the sun set real low, you made magical love in the clouds.

Xiao Jun kissed your cheek as you cuddled and watched the sun rise for Earth below. His wings encapsulated around your body, keeping you warm.

“I’m forever yours.”

Come back tomorrow for the next spooky story...

#nct #nct 2020 #wayv au #wayv scenario #xiaojun x you #xiaojun x reader #wayv xiaojun #wayv x you #wayv x reader #xiaojun #xiao jun #xiao jun x you #nct angel au #wayv angst #nct au #nct fluff #nct smut #nct angst #wayv fluff #wayv romance #nct romance #nct aesthetic #nct moodboard #wayv art #wayv aesthetic #nct imagine #nct scenarios #wayv #wayv imagine #nct halloween

[heliads]

Breaking Barriers

You are a Winter Soldier, used to being a hired gun anymore and nothing else. When Sam Wilson calls you to help with the Flag Smashers situation, you assume it’s just a job like everything else. He might convince you otherwise.

masterlist

When you first see the call pop up on your phone, you’re not sure whether you should answer at all.

You recognize the name, you know who’s calling. You know who’s waiting on the other end. You also have a sinking feeling as to why they’re calling- you know you couldn’t stay dormant forever. You were a Winter Soldier, after all, and you would never be allowed to stay away from a fight for too long. No matter how much you wished you could avoid it.

In the end, you answer. James Barnes, as you suspect, is waiting for you to reply. He’s not alone this time, joined by one Sam Wilson. The Falcon, a possible Captain America, now an ally of the very man who once tried to kill him. Then again, if you were going by people who tried to kill him, you would also be on that list. You operated under harsh mind control, you lost every fragment of your reality and ability to think for yourself. You’ve only been able to recently claw back some semblance of control, and even that has been hard-won.

You had hoped that staying away from the fight, whatever fight it may be, would do something for you. After the war against Thanos, when you had fought your hardest only to die and be reborn into another fight, you had taken advantage of the time to relax. In a way, that brief death was one of the only true moments you had to yourself. In that instant, watching your fingers give way to ash and dust, you had thought for just a second that you would finally stop being someone else’s weapon. Then you had been brought back to life, and a gun had been shoved into your hands as you had been told to fight once more.

It wasn’t their fault, of course. The Avengers needed help, you were there. However, there is something nice about being asked whether or not you wanted to join Sam and Bucky’s cause this time around. Yes, there are strings attached, as there always seem to be, but there have rarely been jobs without them. You know Sam Wilson is a good man, and Bucky tries his hardest to be one. Of all the fights to start, this might be your best one so far.

You meet them at a small airport in the outskirts of Latvia. You’ve managed to make record time on your flight, but even from your first few footsteps in the dusty tarmac, you can tell that you arrived too late. Seconds before you landed, you saw the videos trending across the world. You saw John Walker, that false Captain America, raising Steve’s shield like a barbarian and using it to slaughter a man who was begging for his life. You know what this means, and you know why you’ve been brought here.

Even without the video, you can tell that something terrible has happened. There’s a haggardness in Sam’s face, a weariness that seems to line his brow. You hadn’t spent that much time socializing with the Avengers, as even the world’s mightiest heroes tended to shy away from silent, potentially mind-controlled soldiers who tend to operate between the darker shades of gray, so you couldn’t claim to know Sam as well as his other coworkers.

This being said, you’d come to see Sam as someone who always knew what to say. You’d watched with grudging admiration as he plied the tools of his trade: soft knocks on the doors of people who needed to talk, gentle reminders that it’s okay to let one’s guard down. He’s tried them on you before, but they never really stuck. You didn’t know him well enough to fully go along with his talks, or he was still too wary of you. 

You could hardly blame him- even Bucky Barnes was known first as a kind, courageous 40s-era veteran. No one knew anything about you; no files to prove your worth, to save you or damn you as someone worth the Avengers’ time. HYDRA had essentially erased you from history, and all the world knew about you is that you were one of the Winter Soldiers tasked with mindless killings up until Sam and Bucky had pulled you out. Even Bucky had Steve to back him up, but you had nobody. That is the way of the world, you suppose, not everyone has a protector. Some people have to pave their own way through.

Despite all this, though, it still shakes you to see Sam so worried. You didn’t realize how often you’d looked to him as a source of calm and reason until you saw him concerned. This alone is enough to make you lengthen your strides, closing the distance between you and the pair of Avengers until you’re standing only a few feet apart. Sam extends his hand without hesitation, and you try to match his trust when you take it.

“It’s good to see you, Y/N. You look well.” From anyone else, this would be a nothing, a pleasantry designed to get past the first few stages of protocol. From Sam, however, you feel something different. Like he might actually mean it, or know how to look for the good and bad in you. You’re not sure you were ready for that, or that you’re entirely displeased with the fact that he’s already looking out for you.

Sam gestures towards an awaiting vehicle at the far side of the airport, and the three of you begin walking. You nod once at Bucky, he nods once at you. Winter Soldiers, always knowing when to hold your tongues. Sam raises an eyebrow at this. “So the staring thing isn’t just him?” You smile inwardly. There’s the Sam you remember. Even this brief moment of humor, however, disappears quickly to be replaced by a look of concern.

“Judging by the fact that you’ve gotten here so quickly, I’m assuming you’ve seen the videos. John Walker has to be stopped before he does more damage, and we think he’s taken the super soldier serum. We could use your help in trying to get him to stand down or in taking the shield.” Even this last saying is phrased like a question. You can’t help but compare this to the way HYDRA or even the Avengers used to talk to you. Their speeches were always full of brief, harsh sentences saying exactly what would happen. You would fight, the enemy would not get away, you would stay until the job was done. 

Sam, on the other hand, always leaves a way out, an escape route if you need it. You’ve already taken his call, already arrived in Latvia. There’s no chance you wouldn’t be willing to take on this job, yet Sam still checks to make sure you’re fully on board with the idea. This simple act of empathy is oddly heartwarming, and you find yourself trusting the man even more.

You nod at him, forcing yourself to recollect your thoughts. You’ve been a soldier for a long time, far longer than you should have. You can at least pull yourself together and not act like a starstruck teenager just because Sam’s the only one in years who’s truly looked at you as something more than a weapon. But it does strike like something different, doesn’t it? That’s why it’s so hard to push aside.

“Sounds good. Walker won’t come quietly, though. He saw those cameras and kept going, I doubt he’ll hand over the shield without a fight.” Sam tilts his head in acknowledgement. “I would be surprised if he did. That’s why we’ve got you, though.” You raise an eyebrow. “Backup?” Sam grins. “A friend in case we die.” Maybe he keeps surprising you after all.

John Walker, as it turns out, does not like the idea of turning over the shield any more than you had thought he would. It ends up in a fight, as it usually does. Sam and Bucky approach first, as you had agreed, with you waiting in the shadows in case Walker decided to come out with fists swinging. When things had looked particularly dire, you had jumped in, using your enhanced strength to begin forcing the shield away from Sam’s exposed head.

Walker had glared at you, recognizing you the same way he had Bucky. “You’re another Winter Soldier. You’d turn to criminals instead of staying on my side?” This last part is directed towards Sam, who stands up with a grunt. Something flickers in your chest at the sight of blood slicing up his face. “She’s not a criminal. She is an ally.” Sam says. You’re surprised to hear the honesty in his voice. He truly believes you to be a friend. He might be the first in a long time.

Walker turns back to you, attacking with renewed vitriol. “It doesn’t matter. I am Captain America. The shield is mine, even if I have to take down another super soldier to get it.” You shake your head. “It’s not about the super soldiers, Walker. It’s about making the right call. And I’ve fought enough super soldiers in my time to know that this is the right one.” You manage to wrest the shield away from Walker long enough for it to clatter to the ground. At the sound of ringing metal, the fighting momentarily stops as everyone- Sam, you, Walker, Bucky- turns to face it. 

The din of metal on the ground fades away as it comes to a halt, and then everyone dives to either retrieve the shield or stop it from being retrieved by someone else. In a way, it kind of reminds you of the golden apples of immortality from the Greek Myths- one thrown, groups of mortals falling after them. The shield doesn’t just represent power as it does to Walker, it’s a legacy to uphold. The immortality of a name always seems to come with a legacy.

The fight ends with Walker unconscious on the ground, the shield finally returned to Sam. You watch as Bucky strides away after nodding one last time to Sam, then stand up yourself. Sam calls after you and you turn, seeing him silhouetted in the light of the empty door. The dark of the garage seems to hang around everything but him. It somehow seems right on him.

“Do you have a place to go? Somewhere safe? After this business with Walker, you’re going to get some unexpected callers.” You nod slowly. “I’ve been able to keep HYDRA off of my back for years. Disappearing without a trace is my specialty. I’ll be gone before you know it.” Sam considers this for a second. “What if you didn’t have to do that?” You cock your head at him, confused, and he takes a step forward. The light from the door seems to follow him in, reflecting off of the sharp white lines and metal details on his suit. 

“There’s a place in Louisiana. Delacroix, near the harbor. I have family there. You can come visit, if you like.” You smile, feeling the refusal already rising to your lips. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but if you’ve got family then I probably shouldn’t be there. I attend to attract trouble.” Sam shakes his head. “So do I. So does everyone in this line of work. It doesn’t mean you have to be on the run forever. Take a chance, Y/N. It might pay off.”

With that, he leaves, disappearing into that window of light to the outside world once more. You watch him go, thinking over what he said. There’s a small motion from Walker and you glance over sharply, relaxing when you realize he’s still unconscious. Well, he’s going to wake up eventually. You might as well take a trip and see what you find in Louisiana.

Bucky ends up having the same idea as you, and the two of you meet up for the drive in. Once in Delacroix, it turns out to be fairly easy to find Sam- just follow the train of people congregating around one particular sun-bleached boat bobbing away by the dock. Sam’s gaze lights up when he sees you, and for some reason seeing his happiness makes you feel a little better about coming. You had always been taught that this lightness in your chest, this carefree feeling, was a distraction, something that would only serve to make you worse at your job. Yet why do you feel stronger now then you have in a while?

You don’t have that much experience with boats, but everyone around you seems willing to teach you. You’re not sure whether they recognize you as a murderous Winter Soldier from the news or are just willing to overlook it, but everyone seems ready to accept you as yet another visitor. You can see how this place shaped Sam- his unwavering kindness is present in every single face you see.

You end up working almost all day, and find yourself relaxing on the dock as the golden light of dusk starts to reflect out across the horizon. You hear steps echoing down the dock, and seconds later, someone sits down beside you. “I’m glad you came.” You turn to Sam with a slight smile. “I’m glad too. There’s a new kind of feeling here, something I haven’t had in a while. It’s good to get away from everything and just take a second to breathe.”

Sam gestures towards you in agreement. “That’s the thing. We can all be excellent fighters, but you’re going to wear yourself down to nothing if you stay on the battlefield for too long. We all have to give ourselves a chance to rest.” His tone becomes softer. “That goes for you too, by the way. You are worthy of taking a break.”

You force yourself to laugh. “I didn’t realize I was going to be having this in-depth of a conversation tonight. I would have prepared myself.” Sam gives you a look. “You’re trying to avoid the topic by making jokes. You’re forgetting that I do counseling for the veterans. You can’t use any of the old tricks on me.” You raise an eyebrow. “I can try.” Sam shakes his head, but he’s smiling. “It’s too late, I already know what you’re up to. The point is, your past can only take you so far. You have a right to a good future, and you keep running from it.”

You sigh, staring out over the water. “I just- I’ve done so much. I don’t know who I’m supposed to be without it. Bucky had Steve, had an entire museum exhibition where he could go read up on who he was. I don’t know who I was before the Winter Soldier program because HYDRA wiped it all away. Without something to fall back on, how do I know who I am anymore?”

Sam reaches over, gently wrapping his hand around yours. It’s a surprisingly comforting gesture, and you end up getting so distracted by it that you forget to move your hand away at all. “I know who you are. You are Y/N L/N, the Avenger who would never give up on a fight if she thought it was good. You have a drive unlike anything I’ve seen before, and you’re the one person I called because I knew you would always have my back. I trust you, Y/N, and I know that you will be able to find a place for yourself. You found a place with me, if it’s worth anything.”

You smile at him. It’s a full smile this time, unburdened by worry or fear of the past. “It’s worth a lot, Sam Wilson. To me, it’s worth everything.” When he kisses you, you’re not surprised at all. Just happy that it would be him to finally break down your barriers, and to convince you that you are worth all of the time and energy and love that he will have for you.

marvel tag list: @mycosmicparadise​

#sam wilson #sam wilson imagines #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson oneshot #captain america #captain america oneshot #captain america x reader #captain america imagines #falcon #falcon imagines #falcon x reader #falcon oneshot #avengers #avengers imagines #avengers x reader #avengers oneshot #mcu #mcu imagines #mcu oneshot #marvel #tfatws

[nationalharryleague]

So Golden

Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

Genre: FLUFF

Word count: 1.2K

A/N: Hi guys! This is a quick and fluffy little something I wrote super quick tonight! I hope you like it and please let me know what you think in my ask! You can also read more of my work here in my masterlist!

***

“Harry, you have to stop fidgeting,” you playfully scolded as you attempted to smooth the foundation brush across his cheeks. You were both sitting on the floor, you straddling his thighs, hovering closely to his face and concentrating on getting an even coverage. He let his eyes fall closed and his back rest against the foot of your bed, hair held out of his face by a clip sat atop his head in a poof.

“It tickles,” he whined and you giggled in response. You gently slid the foundation over his skin, moving to even his skin tone but not to cover up all his moles and freckles you loved so much. You dabbed concealer under his eyes to cover the blue hue that always developed when he was working too much and over small spots on his forehead that had started this whole ordeal. After complaining about a pimple, you had offered him some concealer and it had somehow morphed into a full blown makeover.

“Oi, be careful,” he muttered, as you dabbed under his eyes to blend the cream. His long eyelashes fluttered and flinched with every gentle tap.

“You’re acting like you’ve never had your makeup done before, Mr. Rockstar,” you teased as you rested a hand on his bare chest to steady yourself. You had moved on to powder and set his base, sliding the big puffy brush coated in a white powder softly across his still slightly blushed cheeks.

“I only let professionals do my makeup,” his pouty lips smirked, teasing right back. You feigned offense with a gasp and moved to get off his lap, but your hips were caught by his large hands, his eyes never even opening in the shuffle. “I’m kidding, don’t stop,” he spoke softly. You continued on to blush, popping it on the apples of his cheeks, deciding to skip contour as his cheekbones and jawline didn’t need any help.

You loved being this close to him. While the two of you were that couple, and spent the majority of your time touching each other in some way shape or form, you hadn’t gotten the opportunity just to stare at him for a while. Harry was always on the move, unable to sit still for any extended period of time you could use to observe him. The only time you got to stare and take him all in was while he was asleep, but Harry had recently become an early riser, always out of bed by the time the sun broke through the curtains and woke you from your slumber.

You carefully watched him as you worked. Light fell softly over his flushed cheeks and showed off his exquisite eyelashes, ones you had always teased he had no use for. His tattooed chest rose and fell lightly with his soft breath and you resisted the urge to press your hand to his chest to feel his heartbeat; sometimes still questioning whether or not he was real or a figment of your imagination.

“Open your eyes,” you instructed, rousing him from his peaceful calm due to your own selfish urge to get a look at your favorite shade of green. His eyes fluttered open and there it was. His irises were a speckled mix of forest and moss greens and always reminded you of shattered sea glass.

“What color are you thinking for my eyeshadow?” he asked, looking down at the stacks of eyeshadow pallets you had pulled out from the drawers in your vanity.

“Gold,” you told him confidently. “I think it’ll go nicely with your eyes.”

“I trust your professional opinion,” he said as he nodded in agreement, knowing if he teases you again that you would quit for real this time.

You continued on to his eyes, attempting to blend warm browns over his eyelids, prepping them for the bright and metallic golds you had planned. With each tap of your brush, his breath caught in his chest lightly in surprise and his eyelashes fluttered with the flinching of his eyes, no matter how many times you warned him the brush was coming. You smoothed the gold across his lids at last, brightening them with a sparkle and metallic gleam. He stayed quiet and still as you worked for the most part despite the ‘I’m so golden’ he occasionally sang, earning a laugh from you.

“Do I look pretty yet?” he sing-songed from underneath you, clearly running out of patience.

“You’re always pretty, my darling,” you assured him, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, praying not to have smudged any of your work in the process. You decided to forego eyeliner, knowing that would never end up going well on your fidgety boyfriend. You carefully applied glue to a set of false eyelashes and waited for them to get tacky while you explained the importance of him staying still for your next step.

“If you move too much, they will get glued to your real eyelashes and the glue will pull them all out,” you warned.

“Jesus Christ, that’s brutal.”

“Beauty is pain. Now, stay still or else,” you playfully threatened as you neared him with the eyelashes. After a few tense moments, they were on and Harry was complaining that his eyelids were heavy.

“How do people see in these things?” he whined, unable to open his eyes more than half way and rapidly blinking.

“Give them a moment,” you instructed through giggles, batting his hands away from touching. “You will adjust.”

“Too big to adjust to,” he groaned.

“That’s what she said,” you quipped. After your joke, he magically gained enough ability in his eyes again to roll them.

Your final touch was a red lip, knowing it would pop against his green eyes and tanned skin. You slid the lipstick bullet over his pouty pink lips, erasing his natural rosey shade and replacing it with a cherry red. You instructed him to press his lips together to blend any harsh edges and had him smile, rubbing off a tiny bit that had transferred onto his pearly whites.

With a dab of highlight here and there, your masterpiece was complete. While you always thought your boyfriend was gorgeous, he looked so pretty all done up like this. While he was one of the male celebrities more familiar with femininity and makeup, you still couldn’t understand why he didn’t wear it more often. He looked hot.

“Can I see now?” he asked politely, moving to grab the handheld mirror layed on the carpet next to him. You nodded and he gasped when he saw himself in the reflection. “I look hot!” he exclaimed with a laugh, looking at the giant smile on your face before returning to inspect his own further. “I do kinda look like Gem though,” he pointed out after more observation.

You leaned in and pressed your own carefully painted lips to his, unable to resist any longer. His arms snaked up your legs and settled on your hips, pulling your chests against each other, and your own arms hooked around his neck. You felt his now much longer eyelashes brush against the tops of your cheeks and slightly slick lips sliding against each other a little bit more than usual. Coming up for breath, you caught a slight glimpse of him and was slightly startled by who stared back at you, pushing yourself away from him.

“I’m sorry, you have to take it off. It’s like making out with your sister.”

Thank you so much for reading!! Please let me know what you think here! Reblogs are appreciated :) 

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reaser #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic #harry fanfiction #harry fluff #one direction fanfiction #one direction #my writing

[thosewickedlovelies]

AND THEY WERE WALLMATES: Brownies (part 4)

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader

Rating: E for Explicit!!!

Summary: Javier reveals his knight-in-shining-armor side when Reader is in danger. Then Reader bakes brownies, and he reveals...something else ;)

Tags: Attempted mugging at knifepoint. Javi points his gun. Swearing. Inappropriate or maybe completely appropriate use of chocolate. Male masturbation. Exhibitionism if you squint.

Word Count: 4,634

A/N: Okay but consider: Javier has a competency kink.

Masterlist

--

The last three days had been exhausting. Long shifts at the hospital with your intensive-care patient had worn you out, but it was worth it to watch them steadily get better. Tomorrow somebody else was on duty in the morning, and you were greatly looking forward to sleeping in. Knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave your pajamas before your afternoon shift, you had plodded through the grocery store on your walk home tonight.

You breathe deeply, gratefully of the fresh night air as you turn into your building’s driveway. With the all-day shifts and your lack of motivation to do anything but sleep after them, you hadn’t been outside as much in the past few days. Idly you wonder if it’s too soon to ask Javier to take you to that bakery.

You glance reflexively up at his front window as you stop at the base of the steps outside. A light turns off as you rummage through your purse for your keys, but it’s far too early for him to be going to bed. Maybe he’s going out.

You set down a grocery bag, your keys evading your slightly constrained reach. With your head down and your vision narrowed to the inside of your purse, you don’t notice the man until it’s too late.

A rough grip where your neck meets your shoulder, thumb digging painfully into the muscle, and the cold press of steel against vulnerable skin- a knife blade, you register dimly. Every alarm in your body blares as a voice scratches in your ear: “Give me all of the money you have, and I will not use this.”

Adrenaline burns through you, and your hands tremble as it fights the fog of tiredness that had been smothering you. The man scrapes the blade of his weapon along your neck to make his point, then shoves you forward, into the metal bannister of the staircase. The breath whooshes painfully out of you.

Your skin flashes hot and cold with panic, but you force yourself to breathe through the pounding of your heart. You slowly turn around.

Your aggressor is a skinny, unassuming young man, like any other you’d pass on the street, but his eyes are hard, his hold on the knife unwavering as he points it at you. “Your wallet. Now,” he demands, eyes flashing, and you know he meant his threat.

The streetlight above gleams on the blade, a foot from your face. Your tongue feels thick and clumsy in your mouth. You can only nod, trying to communicate placation, that you’ll comply with his request. Your eyes never leave him as you gradually close your hand around your wallet.

Just then, the building door opens, and everything happens very quickly.

Light splashes on the man’s face. “What the- HEY!” Javier’s anger blasts over you, the sudden whip-crack sound of it the loudest you’d ever heard from him. He lets out a rattling stream of Spanish, but your mugger appears unconcerned until a second later, when you hear a sharp click above you. Alarm dashes the arrogance off his face as he flinches. Javi has a gun.

In his moment of distraction, you lift your foot and ram it into the man’s stomach, propelling him backward. He stumbles nearly onto his ass, wheezing, and in an instant Javi is in front of you, gun pointing at him. He shouts something else too fast for you to make out.

The man answers, cowering with his hands up, and Javier spits out one final statement before telling him to leave, jerking his gun in emphasis. Your would-be mugger doesn’t look back.

Javier holds his stance for another tense moment. You tentatively touch your fingertips to his shoulder blade, feeling the strength holding his muscles taut. He nearly shudders at the contact, bringing him back to himself.

He turns to face you, tucking his gun away against his back. “Hey, are you okay? Did he hurt you?” His voice urgent, his eyes still dark and tense with rage. He holds his hands palms out, showing you he’s safe, begging you to believe him.

Adrenaline still vibrates beneath your skin. You look at him with wild eyes, shake your head. Abruptly your knees wobble, and Javier springs forward. “Whoa, hey, it’s okay, you’re okay now, Vecinita.”

One arm encircles your waist while the other props you up along your spine, broad hand splaying, fingers pressing into you with desperate relief. His rough voice smooths your lingering tension, the closeness of his body new but comforting. You let his warmth erase the other man’s violation of your space. Your hands clutch at the lapels of his leather jacket, a sigh shuddering out of you.

“Vecinita. Let’s get you inside, okay?” Javi gently prompts you into moving, keeping one arm wrapped around you as he guides you up the stairs. He directs you to lean against the wall just inside the door.

“Here, put those down, all right? Stay here. I’ll get your other one.” He eases the remaining bags off your shoulder and onto the floor, then disappears out the door, only to return in a flash with your second grocery bag in hand. He sets it down by the others.

You watch him, your head resting against the wall as you battle the exhaustion that had returned full force, aided by the rush of adrenaline and the subsequent crash as it left your system.

Javi approaches you again, worry clear in his face at your limp posture. “Vecinita? You okay?” His hand comes up as if to brush a stray hair at your temple, but he doesn’t touch you. His arm drops.

But you reach out for it, sliding your hand down his wrist to entangle your fingers; the touch as much a comfort for you as it is for him.

Surprise flares in his eyes at your gesture; something indescribably like longing crosses his face. He squeezes your hand.

You smile faintly at him. “I’m fine, Javi. Just...shaken. And tired,” you admit. “I’ve had long shifts at work the past few days.” Your feet ache just remembering, but you make no move to leave.

“Oh yeah, Connie told me,” Javier says without thinking.

Well, that was news to you. You look at him with sudden, sly interest. “Oh yeah? You two ladies talk about me?” Giving his own words back to him, from the second time you went over to check on his leg. It could have been a lifetime ago for how different things are now.

Javi looks dumbfounded for a split second. A helpless chuckle spills out of him, unconsciously swaying forward as if only this, your familiar teasing, had convinced him that you were fine, that he could finally let go of his own tension.

His face is so unguarded; you’re delighted to see his eyes crinkle with laughter. They’re so brown, so beautiful this close up, a rich spiral of shades that you could stare into for hours and still not find the right words to describe.

You smile fondly up at him, not minding his nearness in the slightest. You’re conscious, suddenly, of how overwhelmingly glad you are that you got to know Javier. Of how grateful you are for his company, his protection just now.

For once, you are the conflicted one, a thoughtful expression puzzling your brow. Because it’s your turn to consider how you could possibly thank him for what he’s done. What could be enough to communicate the depth of your gratitude?

--

Javier knows that you are okay, really. That he should get you inside your own apartment, let you sleep off the past few days. But he is utterly captivated. Held in place like an animal caught in the wrong trap, at the mercy of the hunter to decide its fate. Would you put him out of his misery by telling him that you’re not interested? Or free him from the trap of his clumsy uncertainty, grant him the clarity of your feelings so that he may choose his own course?

The press of your hand in his gives him hope, intimate and promising in all the right ways. He doesn’t want to let go, but this is unquestionably the wrong time to make any kind of move. He’s already standing too close to you, unable to resist your draw in the relief of the moment.

Time seems to thicken as your smile fades. He wants to smooth the furrow in your brow, chase off what’s troubling you. Of course, it could be me, he thinks sardonically. Despite his best efforts, his eyes flick rapidly down to your lips.

And he watches your expression shift again, those lips parting, and if Javier didn’t know better he’d think you wanted him to kiss you- but that can’t be right, you’re just in shock. His moral compass gets him into trouble at the best of times, but it’s swinging wildly now, leaving him utterly spun.

His tongue pokes forward unconsciously, just wetting his lips...but before either of you can move you hear a crash from Steve and Connie’s apartment above.

The spell is broken. You start, your head automatically turning in the direction of the sound. Javi straightens, putting some air between you, but his gaze never leaves your face.

“Sounds like they’re fighting,” he says. “Come on, let’s get you inside before one of them storms out.” He lets go of your hand only to slide his arm around you again. You let him help carry your bags, your limbs revolting at the idea of further movement.

Javier guides you into your apartment as far as the kitchen. He’s reluctant to let you go, but darts anxious glances at the back hall, not wanting to overstep (despite what had just almost happened outside).

He unwinds himself from you once he’s sure you’re holding yourself upright. Before he can leave, however, you grab his arm again.

“Javi!” You seem...afraid, but like you’re furiously trying not to be. “...What did you say to him?”

He’s not convinced that was your original question, but he answers. “I asked him who he worked for. He said no one, he just needed some money...you were a random pick, Vecinita, in the wrong place at the wrong time. He won’t come back.” A bitter taste fills his mouth at the memory, the sight of that motherfucker pointing a knife at you. But his rage softens when he sees the anxiety haunting your face.

“Hey. You want me to stay here tonight? I’ll sleep on the couch. Guard the door.” His attempt at levity sounds half-hearted, but your lips twitch upward in response.

“I..can’t ask you to do that, Javier,” you mumble, gaze shifting- until you remember something. “You were going out.” You look back at him questioningly.

He barely remembers his original plans for this evening. Drinks with coworkers? Javier shrugs dismissively. “Nothing important. Don’t worry about it. Come on- I’ll stay here tonight and drive you to work tomorrow. Deal?”

You bite your lip. “I don’t work until the afternoon tomorrow.” Another feeble attempt at protesting. He waits.

Finally you concede. “Thank you, Javi”, you whisper, nearly inaudibly.

Instead of speaking, he takes your hand again. Bringing it to his mouth, he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles, without a trace of his suggestive intentions from the first time. “Que duermas bien, Vecinita.” Sleep well.

--

You wake naturally the next morning to sunlight streaming through your curtains. You forgot to set your alarm! Your first thought has you sitting bolt upright, heart pounding; then you remember that you have the morning off. Your heart rate slows only marginally as the events of the previous evening return to you, including- Javier slept on your sofa.

Your pulse rockets right back up, flushing your whole body with nervous energy. Damn it, it’s too early for this. Your sleep-clumsy thoughts are tumbling and manic as you try to decide on a course of action.

Right, first- check your clock. Ten a.m.?! You stifle a groan. Who knows how long Javi has been awake by now, just waiting in your living room? Assuming he stayed- you wouldn’t blame him if he’s gone to his own apartment for food by now.

Wait, speaking of food- you frown, lifting your nose toward the door. Is that coffee you smell?

So Javier’s awake, then.

Abruptly overcome with giggles, you cover your face with your hands, grinning like a fool. Javier had stayed, and made himself coffee in your kitchen.

Well you couldn’t just leave him out there. You take a deep breath, willing yourself calm. Time to stop acting like a giggling mess with a crush. The thought makes you pause, wide-eyed. Holy shit, did you have a crush on Javi?

I mean, he did save your ass last night, you reason. Very superhero of him. And you kept finding more attractive things about him, and you’d spent some real time together now, and he...he had kissed your hand last night. After definitely almost kissing you in the hall. Mierda. You giggle to yourself again. So much for being calm.

Well, there was nothing to be done for it. You throw a light robe over your pajamas and pad to the kitchen.

Butterflies burst in your chest at the sight that greets you. Javier is sitting at your dining room table, a mug in front of him. Chin in hand, lost in thought, hair still adorably mussed from sleep.

You only have a second to appreciate it before he hears you approach. He stands with a start, guilty eyes flitting from his coffee to the kitchen before settling on you, hands fidgeting like he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He clears his throat. “Morning.”

His voice is even raspier this early in the day, like a match striking heat inside you. A reaction you will definitely have to process later.

“Morning,” you return, smiling sheepishly at him. You go to the sink to fill a glass of water, opting to stay at the counter to drink it. “How long have you been up?”

His gaze flits to the clock on the microwave. “About an hour. I, uh. Made coffee. Hope you don’t mind.” His hand flies to his head as if only just now remembering the state his hair could be in, hurriedly smoothing errant curls (to your disappointment).

Javi’s shirt is rumpled, and you feel guilty as you realize he would have slept in his clothes. You’d been so dead on your feet last night, you don’t even remember if you gave him a  blanket. “Not at all,” you reply. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep this late. I didn’t even offer you pajamas or anything last night...” You’re about to continue apologizing when he cuts you off.

“Don’t worry about it, Vecinita. I’m not sure yours would have fit me anyway.” A teasing grin uncurls as he eyes the short pajama shorts under your robe, in a way that’s wholly different from how he might have looked at you before you fixed his leg (a time designation you find yourself referencing more and more often lately: Before-Leg and After-Leg). Now he’s earned such familiarity, and although unexpected, it’s not unwelcome. You still nearly gape at the joke and his once-over, feeling decidedly warm.

Oblivious to your internal temperature rising, Javi continues. “I could do with a shower though. What time do you have work?”

Right, work. “Twelve,” you respond. “Um, I can make breakfast? While you run home and shower. If you want. How’s pancakes? And I think I have bacon.”

Javier looks relieved to have a plan. “You had me at bacon,” he confirms. “I won’t be long.” He starts for the door, scooping up his jacket as he goes.

“No hurry!” You call after him.

True to his word, Javi is barely gone fifteen minutes before he’s back at your dining room table, a fresh mug of coffee cradled in hand. Conversation doesn’t come as readily as it did during your movie night, but the silence in between feels...comfortable.

Javier hesitantly brings up the night before, but only to compliment the form of your kick to the man’s stomach. “Self-defense classes before traveling,” you explain, which led to a continued interest in fighting skills. Your neighbor looks impressed and...intrigued, maybe. Something speculative in his eyes, like he’s reassessing his idea of you.

He drives you to work later, and arranges for Steve to pick you up.

“Heard you had to kick some ass last night,” the blond drawls in greeting.

Well, it was nice of Javier to tell such a flattering version of the story. You roll your eyes, even as you preen the tiniest bit. “Yeah, that’s how it happened,” you grumble. “It wasn’t just Javier swooping in to save my ass like fucking Batman with a shiny gun.”

Steve guffaws at your description. But neither man makes light of the incident. Steve drives you to or from work at Javi’s request when he’s busy, until after a few days you insist that you’re fine, plenty confident that Javi scared off your attacker. Even so, he walks with you to the grocery store the next time you go, swearing up and down that the timing is just a coincidence, that he needs a few things too.

Secretly you’re grateful for that. You feel safe with Javier, and it’s a nice feeling, being protected. You’re just as capable of watching out for threats, but you could never replicate the swooping, shivery feeling low in your belly when his guiding hand brushes the small of your back. Ever since you took his hand that night, he’s been slowly getting bolder with small, casual touches. And every time you let him, his eyes brighten a little more, his breath loosening like he’s afraid you’ll reject each one. As if you’d reject proof of his affection, or the glow of pleasure that smolders in you with every glimpse of it.

At the store, you mentally flip through your cookbook, tilting your head thoughtfully at the cocoa powder.

--

Javier doesn’t remember inviting you over to bake in his kitchen, but he’s sure as hell not complaining. Watching you competently twirl about the room, sifting and stirring and tasting things in various bowls, is stirring in ways he hadn’t anticipated. The graceful lift of your arms, your eyes narrowed in concentration. He almost wants to interrupt, just to see how you’d react.

He drifts over to see if he can help, when his senses are powerfully overwhelmed by the smell of chocolate.

You stand in front of him, the source dripping suggestively from a spoon in your hand. “Want a taste, Javi?” You lick the spoon slowly, holding his gaze as you close your mouth around it, cheeks hollowing with the effort of sucking it clean.

Javier swallows hard at the dizzyingly tempting scene before him, all but floating toward you.

You smile coyly at him, meaningfully lifting a chocolate-tipped finger. He doesn’t dare move. His lips part as it nears, not knowing what you intend but knowing that he desperately wants it. His breaths come quick and shallow. You trace your finger lightly along his lower lip.

The touch sizzles through him, the taste of your skin far more vibrant than that of the chocolate. Javi can’t help but flick his tongue out to chase it, catching just the tip of your finger before it retreats, and suddenly you look as lost as he feels, staring at his mouth as he works to clean the silky sweetness from it.

As if in a trance, you lift your hand again, your own lips parting. “Want another?” Your voice breathy and uneven. A fingerprint smudging your lower lip, you lift your chin-

And Javier is on you, sucking your lip into his mouth, tasting the chocolate on your breath, wanting more. He groans as you arch into the kiss, devouring you, sliding his tongue against yours. You clutch at each other like this is everything you’d been waiting for.

Javier loses himself in you. Just the sounds you’re making have him harder than he’s ever been, he’d let you lick chocolate off whatever you damn well want-

He jolts awake.

Gasping and sweating and so painfully hard he instinctively presses a palm to his crotch, choking on a groan. What the hell?

He is completely disoriented. The smell of chocolate still pervades his senses. He registers the muted sound of- music? Your singing.

He’d fallen asleep on the couch; the scent in his dream was you baking again. Maybe you dropped something and it woke him up. He can’t focus on anything else right now besides his absolutely throbbing erection.

His breathing is harsh in his throat as he shoves at the zipper of his pants. He wraps a hand around himself, his head dropping back and his mouth open in a soundless moan. His hips buck upward, head still full of you, you-

He snaps in less than a minute.

His release spatters hot over his hand and shirt. He slumps back down into the cushions, panting, spent. As the haze clears, he has only a single thought.

Fuck.

--

The sunlight is too bright for Javier’s thoughts the next morning. It dazzles him on his way to work, making it even harder to focus when his mind is still full of you. The softness of your lips, your sighs of pleasure, all of it conjured up by his apparently lust-addled mind- whose desperation would only increase the more he longed for a taste in real life.

It’s an immense relief when he finally arrives to the familiar office smell of musty files and weak coffee.

He’s here before Steve today- a rare occurrence, but he had to get out of the house. There’s some fanfare going on when he finally does catch a glimpse of his partner’s blond hair across the floor.

Steve is- holding something? Handing out something? As he makes his way over, the sounds of appreciation from colleagues grow clearer, but it doesn’t sink in until he’s nearly reached the door.

“Man, Steve, you gotta bring this neighbor of yours to the next office party so we can show our appreciation!” The agent’s chortle dies as he catches sight of Javier, who makes no attempt to regulate his steadily souring expression. “Peña.” The man gives him a quick nod and says a last farewell to Steve.

His partner sets the tray he’s holding down on his desk and slowly turns to face Javier. Steve’s gaze lingers over the look on his face, the way he’s zeroed in on the dish, lips puckered like he can’t decide if he should speak.

“Well good mornin’ to you, Javi,” Steve drawls, in that too-knowing way he sometimes had. “Brownie?” He gestures to the tray.

The smell reaches him then. Chocolate. Thick and rich and- a chocolate-coated finger hovering before his mouth, your eyes twinkling innocently up at him- Javier’s jaw clenches.

“What,” he grits out, demanding an explanation with the single syllable.

“Neighbor-lady dropped ‘em off last night. Said they were for us to take to work today. Apparently she tried you first, but you weren’t home.”

Right. Because after staining his shirt with thoughts of you, he’d barely taken the time to throw on a clean one before stumbling out the door, sucking in deep breaths of fresh air as he walked to the nearest dive that served whiskey.

But- you had brought them to him first. Not Connie, or Steve, or anyone else. Him.

“Huh,” he replies distantly.

It’s all too much for Javier to process. He stands abruptly and stalks out of the office, making a beeline for the restroom.

His mind clears a bit after splashing some water on his face. He manages to be cordial once he returns to his desk, but it isn’t long before the emotional impact of his revelation fades, leaving him once more occupied by daydreams of the physical confirmation he craves.

It doesn’t help that apparently the entire fucking building was told about the brownies. Every time someone new comes in he gets a fresh whiff of chocolate, remembers dreaming of sucking the taste off your tongue and the needy noises you made when he did.

For the next several hours he glowers at the tray, perched innocuously on the corner of Steve’s desk. His skin feels hot and tight. It’s possible he smokes a few more cigarettes than usual in an effort to numb his tastebuds, or his olfactory sensors, or whatever the fuck keeps registering fucking chocolate.

Steve eyes him curiously. “You okay, man? You’ve snapped at nearly every person who’s come in here for a brownie. You allergic or somethin? I can move ‘em…”

Javier nearly snarls. “No, I am not allergic,” he says very calmly, the words clipped.

He manages to escape a little while before Steve, citing his early arrival as an excuse to head home. As he pulls into the drive, however, he passes your familiar figure on the corner.

His head thunks against the steering wheel. Steeling himself, he gets out of the car as you walk up.

“Hi Javi!” You beam at him, and his heart nearly beats right out of his fucking chest.

Tiredness lines your face from a long hospital shift, but it doesn’t stop you from looking all caring as you take him in. He doesn’t even want to imagine what you see: his shirt wrinkled from constantly shifting and tugging at it all day, his face pinched from scowling.

“Are you okay, Javi? You look flushed.” You bite your lip in a concerned frown.

It’s a struggle to hide his aggravation. “Long day at work,” he mutters, fumbling with the building keys, trying not to look like he’s hurrying.

Luckily you don’t seem to notice his temper. “God, me too. I’m gonna go take a nap. All I’ve been thinking about all day is getting back in bed.”

The mention of you and getting in bed and Javier about bursts into flame. He stutters out an excuse, all but bolting for his door. The lock clicks firmly behind him.

He stomps through the apartment to his bedroom, shedding clothing as he goes. His shoes and jacket dropped by the couch. His shirt yanked off and flung over a dining room chair. His jeans shoved down at the foot of his bed.

He stumbles to the wall you share, breathing ragged, resting one hand flat against it as the other finally wraps around the hard-on he’s been nursing for hours.

His lip nearly bleeds with the force he bites into it to stifle his groan. Every inch of his skin feels exquisitely sensitive, his blood racing hot in his veins from thinking of you all day. From thinking of you now, just on the other side of this wall. Shedding your scrubs, sliding amidst your bedsheets, unaware of the state you’ve put him in. Or maybe you are aware. Maybe you can hear him panting, strangling sighs of your name as he imagines your lips on his skin, your hand squeezing his cock. Encouraging him sweetly while he strokes himself higher and higher-

And comes harder than he ever has on his own. Shaking and gasping, there’s no way you don’t hear the sound which escapes him then. For a second he feels light-headed.

When his eyes open again, he grimaces at the mess on the wall. As his heart rate settles, his expression further contorts imagining the potential consequences for what he just did. For what you could have heard.

Maybe...he should do something about this.

--

Post A/N: Sorry for the negative implications about Steve and Connie’s marriage, I promise they’re fine! I’m just a simple writer in need of storytelling devices <3

Also someone pls tell me if I used the wrong form of the verb ‘to sleep’

Fic Taglist: @din-damn-djarin, @thirstworldproblemss, @remembertoreadthese, @knightowl247, @pamguini

#javier peña x reader #javier peña x you #narcos fic #narcos #javier peña #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters