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justalonelyslytherin · 1 year

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My Kingdom, Your Kingdom | two

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Pairing: secret king!Steve Rogers x heir apparent!female Reader

Summary: Revealing where the girls come from couldn't become a problem could it? Even less of a misconception. Right?

Warnings: none

Wordcount: 3.6k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don't allow for my content to be copied, translated, or resposted on other websites/apps. Please don't steal my work.

A/N: Both chapter 1 and this one were rather plot/introduction heavy and I know that isn't for everyone. It was necessary to set the world & story up, ok. From chapter 3 onward, we'll be focusing on Steve & Y/N slowly falling in love. I promise. I want to give a shout-out and big thanks to @imaginedreamwrite who helped me work out some troubles I had at the end of the chapter. You are awesome <3 The lovely red dividers are from @/firefly-graphics, go check her blog out.

Taglist: open, will be tagged in the comments, let me know if you want to be added

“There you go,” Steve said, holding out a thick and warm blanket in his hands.

“Thank you,” she answered, reaching out to take the blanket from him, when he moved.

“Let me,” he mumbled and draped the blanket over her shoulders, its added warmth surrounded her. The heaviness of the dense but soft wool was soothing. A cocoon of comfort that helped quench the uneasy feeling residing in the pit of her stomach.

Steve’s offer had come to be their saving. Half frozen, they’d wandered through the forest for hours, dread overtaking them the further the sun set. The welcoming and generous blonde with his grumpy friends and the warm cabin they were staying at had been their salvation.

Yet she couldn’t shake the feeling it would turn bad. She’d feared they would turn hostile if they knew who they had truly invited into their home. Yelena had almost revealed the secret a couple of times. Her youngest sister had a bad habit of speaking before thinking, too open for her own good.

Right now she was occupied sitting in front of the warm fireplace, holding her hands close to the flames to warm the frozen digits. Natasha sat just behind her in one of the armchairs, keeping watchful eyes over the youngest of them.

Not long did Y/N’s eyes stay on her two sisters. Looming in the doorway and in one corner of the big and open room were Steve’s two friends. Ever since the invitation, they had been broody and quiet and if they had spoken up they’d been short and curt. She couldn’t shake the feeling they weren’t truly welcome here. It was when Bucky stepped forward and crossed the room to take a seat on the couch just opposite them that the unease started to overwhelm her once more.

“So who are you?” He asked them bluntly. “We already introduced ourselves, didn’t we?” Natasha’s answer was almost as blunt and not any less stoic.

“Wrong. You told us your names but nothing more.”

“Bucky,” Steve glared at his friend as he sat down on the same couch. Instead of putting the most possible distance between him and them, Steve sat on the point closest to Y/N.

“What Bucky is trying to say is, we are a little confused about who you are and where you came from.” She could tell that Steve tried to mediate. He was equally as curious as his friends. His curiosity was barely hidden behind his warm and welcoming eyes, whereas they concealed it behind sobriety and hardened, cold eyes.

“Let’s be frank and put the cards on the table.” Sam added from the doorframe, “This is the last town before the border from the direction you were coming from, which means you had to have come from there or even beyond. ”

A thick lump had formed in the back of her throat, making it hard for her to swallow. Or maybe it was her heart beating so strongly that it had jumped into her throat, making it nearly impossible for her to swallow. It had only been a matter of time for that question to come up and while she had known it would come, she had dreaded it no less strongly.

Glancing up, Steve’s eyes were focused solely on her. The curiosity in his eyes was thinly veiled, more so now than before. It was only shadowed by the absolute openness and warmth he exuded. A warmth that took the hesitation out of her and instead replaced it with the courage to answer him. In her stomach, a tingling, warm sensation blossomed. She found herself wanting to open up to him.

“You are right.'' Steve's eyes widened in surprise. From him she turned to look towards Sam, “We were coming from Sokovia.”

The empty landscape passed by the car. Nothing but fields, trees, and hills around them. They’d left behind the last point of civilization miles ago and exchanged it for no-man’s-land. Most people would have felt unsettled by the lacking signs of humanity. Not them. Not when it felt like freedom to drive around with no true destination. Not when for the first time they were able to choose on their own where to go and where to stop.

Y/n glanced over at her sister in the driver's seat. Natasha had never looked more relaxed and at ease than behind the steering wheel now. Her sister was a put-together person, always calculating and listening to everything around her. There was nothing Natasha wasn’t aware of, nothing that slipped past here, and in return, she’d always kept her guard up. Every step was calculated, every reaction of everyone around her something to analyze. Sometimes she wondered if her sister ever truly rested or if even in her room she stayed aware, never just being and letting things happen on their own.

“Hey, what if we drive to Brooklyn?” Yelena had leaned forward in her seat, scooted to the edge of it no less, her elbows digging into the headrests of the two front seats.

“Are you crazy?” Natasha countered the question with another, rhetorical, one.

“Why would you want to go there anyway? There’s nothing over there besides wastelands and despair. Haven’t you listened when they taught us about it in history class? How that country is nothing more than a barren and broken ruin anymore–”

“– devastated by the financial ruin of their greedy King, blundered by his dark and dangerous knights that won’t hold back even against their own countrymen, women, and children’? Jeez, Nat, when did you swallow the fairytales of that old geezer?”

“The old fart talks a lot of rubbish but that doesn’t mean that all of his words hold no truth,” Y/N interfered, sensing the approaching argument between her younger siblings. Yelena’s proposition certainly was exciting. That didn’t mean it wasn’t also dangerous if not right out foolish.

“Oh please. Can’t we drive close to the border? I just want to see it! We wanted to go on an adventure, didn’t we?”

With a sigh, Y/N leaned her head back. She was right. They’d wanted to go on an adventure. When she glanced over at Natasha, the redhead was already looking at her. As they looked at each other grins slowly formed on their faces, a giddy feeling rising below the surface.

“Let’s do it then.”

And so they continued to drive towards the mountains, through winding roads with endless serpentines and the most breathtaking views. It was one mountain range separating everything new and exciting from their home and everything they’d ever known.

“Hey isn’t that the great lake?” Yelena yelled as the road curled around the side of one mountain. Before them the landscape opened up from gray rock and evergreen conifers, to reveal a short valley dotted in shadows and light as the sun came between the mountains. Just behind a great lake with crystalline, azure blue water stretched out from one side of the mountains to the other, reaching seemingly infinite.

Y/N felt awe upon the sight, the sheer vastness had her sitting up in her seat. The beauty took her breath away. She had heard many things about the great lake and seen pictures just as paintings. Nothing could compare to actually seeing it. The water sparkled and rippled in the sun, even from way up. The pool of water was so clear a portion of its surface turned into a giant natural mirror, reflecting the snow peaked mountains curling around its edges. From their position out, high up, they could see as far as the opposite edge of the lake, spying the lands of Brooklyn behind.

It didn’t look like a particular wasteland to her, she thought as her eyes were focused on the land beyond. It was beautiful in fact, the mountains dusted with snow and the valley between them so long it vanished beyond the horizon.

“Can we get closer?” Yelena whispered in awe.

“There should be a road branching off in a bit that leads closer so we can drive directly by the lake.”

There was no question of do or don’t after Natasha informed them of this. But when they arrived at the junction there was no sign. Or rather there was none anymore, as it lay beside the road, bent and clearly run over.

“Can you tell which way is which?” Natasha asked her. The sign was still anchored in the bottom, in theory, it should still display the correct way.

Briefly unbuckling her seatbelt, she leaned out of the window and squinted at the sign. It consisted of two arrows pointing in different directions, one straight ahead to follow the street further curling around the mountain and one to the left, forking away and up. One way was leading across the border and over to Brooklyn, the other one to the edge of the Lake.

“Y/N?” Natasha asked once more, impatience bleeding into her voice as they were standing in the middle of the road.

“Uhm, go ahead, not left.”

Her decision was made on pure gut feeling. Something deep down told her to drive ahead, pulled her in that direction. And so they went that way, coming closer to the lake until finally, they drove to its edge.

“Wait. Didn’t we come from those mountains?” Y/N asked, pointing to the other side of the lake, where the mountain range was much more drastic. Big mountains stuck up toward the sky, some of the peaks ripping up the clouds around them while others entirely vanished with no apparent end beyond the clouds. The side they were driving on was full of mountains too, yet those were calmer and softer, streaked by extensive patches of forest.

“No, that can’t be.”

But it could be. All three of them watched in anticipation as a sign on the side of the road kept approaching. ‘Kingdom of Brooklyn’ it read. Stunned silence encompassed the car, the sign passed them by in the blink of an eye.

“Let’s turn around,” Natasha suggested instantaneously as the car slowed to a walking pace.

“NO! Why should we? We can have a trip here as much as we can back home. Didn’t we want to go on an adventure? This is an adventure! What more could you ask for?” Yelena protested loudly.

“Are you crazy? We are in enemy territory! What if they find out who we are?”

“How should they? No one knows us here. Come on, please~”

Natasha’s grip on the steering wheel turned deadly. Her knuckles paled as she pressed her lips in a thin line. Y/N knew that look too well.

“You decide,” Natasha told her, glancing at her older sister. Loudly she sighed and leaned her head back. She didn’t want to turn back around. It was beautiful here and it looked nothing like the descriptions they heard.

Which led her to wonder what else they’d been told to be the truth but turned out to be nothing but lies. On the other hand loomed the danger they were exposing themselves to. She glanced back at Yelena through the rear-view mirror. Her sister looked so hopeful and excited. Y/N had never seen Yelena like that. They'd never gotten the opportunity to do something like this and she would likely never get another. So with a rapidly beating heart, she made her decision.

“Let’s continue driving. We can stay the night and then drive back tomorrow.”

“Yes!”

“What’s going on?” She asked, sitting up as the car slowed down and made a weird noise.

“I don’t know,” Natasha told her, pressing her foot harder on the gas pedal but nothing happened.

“Nat.” She became more serious as the lights in front of the car started to flicker, shortly before the engine died with a pathetic splutter. They rolled to a silent stop at the side of a long and winding street in the middle of a dense forest.

“Come on,” Natasha muttered, twisting the key in the car to restart the engine. It rattled for a moment, spluttering and coughing before it died again. It didn’t stir the second time at all. “What does that mean?” Y/N pointed at the red, blinking light on the display behind the steering wheel. It looked like a small canister of some sort with a hose.

“Don’t cars run on something? Gas or Fuel?” Yelena asked as she leaned forward in between the driver's and passenger's seats.

“They do?”

“Yep,” Yelena nodded. “And it looks like we just ran out of it.”

“Shit.” Y/N screwed her eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening. Not now. Not when they were in the middle of nowhere. They’d been driving for hours

“I saw a sign some time ago mentioning a town. If we keep walking along the road we should reach it.”

“You are from Sokovia?”

She shook her head, “We are from Widovia.”

Steve’s eyes - widened in curiosity - now dilated further in surprise, perhaps even shock. She could see emotions and thoughts pass by in intervals of mere seconds, flitting past his eyes.

The three men that had offered their home up were speechless. Had it not been for the continuous cracking of the fireplace and the accompanying flickering of the flames, she’d have believed time to be frozen.

“Shit,” Bucky murmured and leaned back on the couch. He stretched his arms over his head, rubbing his flat palm over his hair.

“And you just left there with nothing on you? No phone, no wallet?” Sam asked. The shock had waned and he was back to questioning them in a serious manner.

“There wasn’t exactly time to prepare or gather our things. We had only a small window of time,” Yelena butted in, sounding rather annoyed. Her words were matter-of-factly and so dry as she looked at them with a glint in her eyes that was challenging them to challenge their words further.

Instead of prodding further, Sam snapped his mouth shut and furrowed his brows. And neither Bucky seemed to have another question for them. It was Steve who spoke up next and who presented his question. One that was neither prodding in nature nor accusing. Instead, he asked, “Are you okay?”, and reached a hand out to her.

Only after she didn’t flinch did he lean towards her and dropped his hand to her knee. It was big and warm and caused another tingling sensation to rise up in her. Full of compassion were his eyes, and concern just as comfort too. His openness and the care he displayed for her, just a stranger to him, warmed her heart. He didn’t know her and her sister and yet, when he had seen them in need of help, he hadn’t hesitated. Instead, Steve had gone against his friends and stood his ground.

“Yeah.” Without wanting to, her voice shook, overwhelmed by the way he made her feel.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. Deep wrinkles drew across his forehead as he stared into the flames.

“You are sorry?” Natasha asked him with a raised eyebrow. The surprise in her voice was mutual with what she felt.

“I was nothing but a heartless jerk because I thought you were dangerous.” With a groan, he drew his hand over his face.

“We kinda assumed you were spies or assassins,” Sam added, causing Bucky to grunt once more. It had the three girls chuckle amusedly.

“I wish we were. That would be so cool!” Yelena groaned dramatically as she fell back against the backrest of the couch.

“Assassins?” Y/N asked, her lips twitching upwards in a smile. She glanced back at Steve and raised her brow in question. His answer was a lopsided grin on his own as he shrugged his shoulders.

“These idiots are as paranoid as they are protective of me.”

“Yeah well we have to save your ass on a regular basis since you love getting yourself in trouble,” Bucky barked, a smile tugging on his face too. The first non-stoic or serious expression she had seen from him. It made the brick that had been sitting uncomfortably in her stomach somewhat lighter.

“Anyways…Didn’t think you’d turn out to be refugees instead.”

Refugees? Y/N glanced at Natasha, who was already looking back at her. The boys thought they had fled from Widovia? Thinking about it, it did make sense that they didn’t have anything on them that bound them to their ‘old life’. In reality, it couldn’t have been further from the truth. Y/N hated lying to them, but they couldn’t tell the truth, could they? It was safer and far wiser to let them assume they had flown.

A loud yawn sounding from the other end of the room caught Y/N off guard. Her eyes flitted over to her youngest sister. Just as Yelena had made her exhaustion known loudly, Natasha and she felt it too. It sat boned deep, far deeper than the chill that had thawed the longer they sat before the warm fire. Steve’s hand, still remaining on her knee, was so warm she’d felt it to her core.

She couldn’t put a number on the length of their travel, it must have taken them the better part of the day to cross the border and get stranded in the middle of a snowy road, even before they had spent hours walking along the road, tracking through the woods until the sun had set.

“I think it’s time to go to bed,” Steve announced. “Any other questions, should you be willing to answer them, can wait ‘till the morning.” With that, he withdrew his hand from her knee and stood up. His warmth left behind a spot of coldness that made her crave to be touched once more.

Slowly they all shuffled out of the living room. The cabin was big, she had noticed already. Much too big for only three people, and certainly way too expensive to pay for by them alone too. Maybe they had rented it from someone? Or was it a family possession? She’d been mesmerized by its grandeur from the first moment she had seen it. It was cozy and deluxe, nothing she had expected to see in Brooklyn.

In the middle of the first floor sat a big wooden staircase leading up to a landing and the rooms of the second floor. A hallway each led behind the stairs on the left and the right, meeting behind it in a small, quadratic room. Its ceiling was modeled into a beautiful cross vault, which reminded her of the stone hallways at home. Steve led them down the left hallway, which continued after the small room even further into the house.

“You can choose any room you’d like,” he told them with a smile as he pointed to the many doors. “Bucky, Sam, and I are sleeping upstairs. Feel free to come look for one of us if something should be.”

The glare Bucky sent the blonde over his shoulder made her lips tuck upward. He hadn’t been lying when he said they were protective of him. She found it sweet how much they looked out for their friend. It reminded her a lot of Natasha and her. She’d protect her sister just the same way if she had to.

“I doubt it will be needed, we appreciate it though,” Natasha told Steve with a nod, as Yelena was too busy eyeing the different doors.

“Well, good night then.” A chorus of ‘good nights’ followed after, with the boys turning around to head down the hallway. Y/n turned to her sisters, smiling at them.

“Let’s go to bed. We’ll talk about what we’ll do tomorrow.” There was still a lot they had to talk about, but for now, she didn’t want to think of all of that. She was too tired for it.

“You want the first pick?” Yelena asked her, whipping on her feet.

“No, you too can pick first.” Yelena didn’t need another go, she turned around before the last word had even left her lips and sprinted to a door further down the hall. Natasha huffed amusedly and chose the first door to the right of her. And she?

She turned back around and glanced at the retreating form of Steve. Grateful didn’t even convey all she felt. In a split second decision, made from solely her instinct, she jogged after him, rather than going into the room he had used as an example to show them the bedrooms. Quietly she called out his name, causing him to slow but not halt. Only when she grasped the sleeve of his arm, did he stop and turn around to her. Back was the boyish and cute curiosity on his face and the sparkle in his eyes.

In her mind her decision had been a good one but now, standing there with him, she suddenly didn’t know what she wanted or should do. Her lip took the brunt of it, teeth nibbling on the bottom one. Thank you,” she whispered.

“For Everything.”

Curiosity yielded to surprise. Quietly he stood before her, stunned, with his eyes flitting over the plains of her face. Steve was a handsome guy, the soft smile he shared with her only amplified this. Or maybe it only did in her mind.

“Of course.” The velvet smooth rumble of his voice, so low and full of warmth and a hint of something she couldn’t pinpoint, set fire to her cheeks. Speechless beyond control the only thing left for her to act was nod.

They stared at each other in comfortable silence, for a few seconds that well could have been minutes or even eternity. “Good night,” she murmured, slowly shifting and turning around. Steve looked after her, rooted to his spot in the hallway. His heart was beating a rapid melody in his chest. “Good Night Y/N,” he whispered after her.

#steve rogers x reader #my kingdom your kingdom #steve rogers x female #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x you #king!steve x heir apparent!reader #modern royalty au #royalty au #christmas au

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mercurygray · 1 year

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“the third time” for whoever’s sparking muse for it atm ! xx

More Naera! I put the first two chapters of her story on AO3, here!

You can read more of Naera on tumblr here.

Wordcount: 1421 words.

It was always warm in the nursery.

Naera remembered sleeping here, as a child, curled up between the braziers. She had hardly needed a blanket then, and after all these years she was used to the warmth by now. Beside her Gaela was pushing up the sleeves of her tunic, more than a little uncomfortable in the heat.

"Do you know why we keep the room warm?" Naera asked, resisting the urge to roll Gaela’s tunic sleeves up herself.

"Because dragons like fire?" the little adept asked, looking around.

"Well, yes," Naera allowed, "but it is more than that. When a dragon lays her eggs, she picks a place that is calm, and dark, and lays them in a caul that hardens and keeps them warm." She brushed a hand over the lid of one of the warming pans, the iron just barely able to be touched. "Wildborn dragons break out of that covering themselves - we do a little of the work and then keep them warm in braziers until the time is right."

"And some of them never hatch?" Gaela asked, her eyes tracing the runes and signs on each one of the carefully crafted iron vessels, resting over the steady bank of coals.

"There are eggs here laid by dragons who came with the Conqueror," Naera said, glancing around at the circles of pots, old and new. "And yes - some may never hatch. Even the dragonmasters cannot say why." But they still dream, she wanted to say. I have seen them, flying with their mothers.

There was a noise at the door of the nursery, and Naera looked to the door to see the Princess Helaena, Varra standing in her shadow. Alicent's daughter always looked a little out of place in the Dragonpit, though whether that was her pale dresses or her dream-eyed gaze Naera could never tell. She was wearing a traveling cloak, despite the warmth of the room, her pale hair glowing alongside the clay lamps and coals.

"I dreamed last night of three candles," the princess said, without preface or greeting. "I should like to see the eggs."

"Of course, Princess," Naera responded with a short bow. (She knew by now it was unwise to ask for explanations - the Princess rarely gave them and when she did her reasons were vague and strange. Far easier not to ask. Dreaming was like that, sometimes.) "Was there one in particular you wished-"

"I will know it when it comes," Helaena declared, and Naera nodded, stepping out of her way so that she would have free rein of the room. "This one will help me," she said, pointing to Gaela, and the girl nodded and dipped a bow, falling into the Princess's shadow. Seeing that the Princess had what she needed, Varra stepped away, revealing another person in the passage - a tall, long-haired man in a white cloak.

Naera inclined her head in greeting. "Sir Erryk."

"A third meeting is a lucky one," he said with a slim smile. "Or so my mother used to say." Naera only stared at him, and his face fell a little. "No Aegon today - the Princess needed an escort and a Kingsguard must go where he is bid."

Well, that's a small blessing, at least. Strange, though, that you would come and speak to me. But perhaps beating a man until he bruises and helping with his armor after means that we're allowed, now. "What will the Prince do without you?"

"I'm sure he's happy to see the back of me," Erryk said with a shrug. "The prince does not care often for company - Flea Bottom's more fun without a nursemaid, he says."

The thought made Naera's skin crawl. Yes, I suppose it would be, if you were bound for places like Jotho Whyte's, with its fighting pits and strong beer and children who’ve grown up too quickly. And yet you still go with him - to be his nursemaid, as you say. Another thought occurred, worse, somehow, then the first - How bad is he when there is no one to mind him? She decided to ask a different question - something she'd been thinking about since she’d met her first Kingsguard and seen who and what Aegon was. "Why do you serve a man like that?"

It was obviously a question Erryk asked himself often- his face hardened a little. "Why do you?"

"I am no man's servant," she corrected, her blood fairly boiling at the assumption. "I am a dragonkeeper, vowed and sworn. It is in my blood - a clear line back to Valyria, and just as old as the King's."

Her sharpness did not seem to trouble him, but when he spoke he was defensive, too. "My family's roots are with the First Men. We have always served the lords of these lands - Storm Kings and River Kings and Dragon Kings alike. I serve for my family's honor, and the Crown entire - not just a single king. My oath is for life - like your own, I think."

"I swore to serve the gods," she corrected. "Why would you take such an oath, if you did not know what kind of man you'd serve?"

"It is a great honor to be named to the Kingsguard - a sign of your skill as a warrior. My father was never more proud than when my brother and I gave our oaths. As was yours, I'm sure."

Naera scoffed. "I do not know my father," she said, knowing it would discomfit him. Wasn't that the way of these Westerosi, with their bastards and base-borns? "That is the custom here. Who knows what dragon sired any of these eggs?" She cast her hand around the room. "But we know by whom they were laid. That is all that matters to us. I am my mother's daughter, and none other." And she knows my worth very well.

Truth be told, she’d never asked her mother about her father - whether he was a man of the Keepers, or some lover she’d taken from the lower city. The Keepers were not confined to the Dragonpit, by any means, though they kept their own customs there, the ancient gods and the old tongue of Valyria. We would have died out long since, if we’d been ordered to find a mate here among the brethren, she’d heard her mother’s friend say once. Anyone who’s bred goats knows that too well. Why should it matter who the child’s father is, as long as it is born and raised with us?

It would be easier if we kept the old ways - the inheritance of the female line. But they do things differently here, and sons come after fathers. If Aegon's sisters had been allowed to rule and had daughters to come after them - but Rhaenys and Visenya bore only sons.

But what the knight thought of that she never heard - Helaena reappeared in the doorway, Gaela in close step behind her. There was a softness in her face again, and her hand was resting gently on her belly - a sign Naera recognized at once. Three candles, in a dream - she's having another baby. Her heart sank a little, thinking of what the Princess had said before about being looked at by her brother-husband. It's horrid work, after you're looked at. "You will put aside the egg I've picked," she announced. "For when it is time." She gestured to Gaela. "She knows."

Naera nodded, bowing again as the princess passed, and letting Erryk leave without another word or a gesture of goodbye. What do I care for Kingsguard knights? “Show me which egg the Princess picked, Gaela, and we’ll move it so it can be watched.”

The younger girl nodded and moved quickly back into the other nursery chamber, Naera following slowly and deliberately. Gaela pointed it out amidst the dozens of others - pale green with veins of silver down its sides, the color of a newly-turned out leaf. Naera pulled the egg carefully out from among the others, feeling the familiar scaled surface and its subtle warmth. They would have to check the records for which dragon had laid this one - it was too large, she thought, to be one of Dreamfyre’s, and her eggs were usually bluish in color. And just like that, its fate is cast - a mount for a royal baby. It will be cosseted and crowed over, but a dragon is only ever a dragon. It has no oaths to take or break.

And who knows? The egg may never hatch, and all those dreams will be for naught. Who ever knows if dreams come true? It's easy enough to snuff a candle out.

#i have written a thing #mercurygraypresents #naera tynara's daughter #house of the dragon fanfiction #dragonkeepers #hotd fic #erryk cargyll #helaena targaryen

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jungxk · 3 years

Text

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

4 years ago

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold.

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces.

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him.

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed.

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts au #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin au #bts fic #jungkook fic #jimin fic #jungkook college au #jimin college au #bts college au #myfic

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americxn · 3 years

Text

“I didn’t love you enough.” (James x Reader)

❣ James takes his devotion to the reader one step further ❣

wordcount: 2.3k

a/n: is this what angst is? i’ve never been sure what angst actually means lol

warnings: blood, death

“I have something for you, dearest.” You looked up at James from you position beside the gently crackling fireplace in your shared suite, a book thrown open on your legs that you had partially curled underneath you on the velvet red armchair. “Oh?” You pressed with a smile, encouraging him to go on. James bought you gifts and set up little surprises for you all the around the hotel at least three times a week and so his declaration wasn’t in the least surprising, but it still sent a spark of excitement jolting through you. “Yes.” He drawled, holding out a hand to you from where he stood beside the armchair. You closed your book, placing it on the low table before the fire and unfurling your legs from beneath you to accept his hand. Pulling you to your feet, you looked up at him as he explained: “You know how I love to spoil you?” you giggled quietly with a nod, waiting for him to go on. “Well, I’ve had a...gift, I suppose, planned out for you for a short while now, but I must admit, I’ve been too nervous to give it to you.” You frowned a bit at this, your excitement spiking. Within your relationship, you and James were very rarely nervous around each other and were fairly open about any concerns that the two of you had. “Okay?” You said, squeezing his hand as the two of you halted before your large shared bed. James gestured to the bed with a hand, your eyes following his indication to see a long, slender black box sat atop the covers at the foot of the bed. The box was furnished neatly with a thick black ribbon, your name written in cursive gold on the top of it. “Can I?” You asked James. At his nod of confirmation, you released his hand, reaching forwards to pick up the box. There was some weight to it and you sat yourself down at the foot of the bed with the box in your lap, carefully pulling the ribbon undone.

James stood before you, watching your every move intently; with tense shoulders, there seemed to be an anxious, restless aura radiating from the man. The ribbon fell away from the box and you discarded it beside you, glancing up at James with a smile before turning your attention back to the black cardboard of the box. He offered you a tight smile in return, his hands clasped tightly before him. You pulled the lid off the box, setting it on top of the ribbon. There was a thin layer of silver tissue paper covering whatever lay inside and it’s crinkling filled the silence of the room as you parted the crisp paper to reveal what lay inside. Atop the black cushion that sat in the bottom of the box was a slender silver dagger. It’s blade was flat and cruelly pointed at the end and the hilt was ornately engraved, it’s metal cold in you palm as you picked it up. “Wow.” You remarked under your breath. “It’s beautiful.” You said, looking up at James. His face was tight, his brow furrowing as you removed it from the box, discarding the black cardboard and weighing the dagger in your hands. “Thank you.” You beamed at him, pushing yourself to your feet and pulling James into a tight hug. He hugged back for a moment before pulling away, his hands coming to settle on your shoulders and you examined the way the silver glinted in the dim light of the room. Although you didn’t comment on it, you noticed the hard set of his shoulders as you hugged him and the way that his hands clamped down on your shoulders slightly. “Yes, it is. Darling, I want you to listen to me.” You looked at him. “Okay. Is everything alright? I don’t know you seem...off. Nervous.” “Well yes.” He agreed, giving your shoulder a light push to usher you to the bed. He sat on the mattress and you settled yourself upon his lap, the knife a cold weight in your hands. “Now, my love.” You glanced at him, slight worry beginning to unfurl in the pit of your stomach at his serious tone. “We’ve been together for a considerable amount of time now.” You smiled softly, your thumb brushing over the heavy engagement ring adorning your left hand. “And I don’t think I will ever be capable of feeling even an ounce of the love that I feel for you towards anyone else.” You met his gaze at the heartfelt words, leaning your shoulder into his chest. “Well, that’s good to know.” You said softly. James huffed a tight laugh in your ear, his large hands coming to wrap tightly around your waist. “Yes. But I’ve... I feel as if I have encountered a sort of... block, if you like, in our relationship.” You sat up straight, your eyes filling with concern as you scanned his face. James hardly ever stumbled over his words, and yet here he was, his clever articulation slipping slightly. “Well, what - Is it something I’m doing?” You asked him, slightly panicked. “Just tell me and I can -” “Darling, it’s not you.” He cut you off, your next words falling from your lips. “Then what is it?” You pressed at his thoughtful pause. His dark eyes finally met yours, a glint of frustration shining in them. “It’s difficult for me to accept the fact that you get to keep living whilst I’m stuck in this godforsaken building.” He said flatly, his words blunt. You had to fight to stop your jaw from falling open. “And I know that it is no fault of yours.” He assured, his hands coming to stroke down your spine. The touch, although meant to be loving, felt forced. “But please just try to imagine how it feels to watch you leave the hotel at your whim. I don’t know where you go or who you meet or anything.” “But I always tell you where I go and who with?” You said with a frown, slightly annoyed at his harsh proclamation. “Yes, but how am I to know whether you tell the truth or not?” You bristled slightly. “So you don’t trust me?” James paused, noting the annoyance seeping into your posture. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, dear, it’s everyone else. I can’t be there to protect you.” He said, a shade softer. You scoffed, twisting in his lap to face his completely. “I don’t need your protection, James. Or anyone else’s for that matter.” James sighed at your mounting irritation, one on his hands lifting to pinch the bridge of his nose. “I know, but listen-” You cut him off before he could finish. “So what is this for?” You asked, lifting the blade to Jame’s nose with a flourish. James’ hand latched onto your own that was wrapped around the cool hilt, pushing the blade back down onto your lap. “That is... well, I - have you not figured it out yet?” You raised an eyebrow at him. “No?” His eyes softened as they flicked down to the floor. Using his hands, he spun you around on his lap so that you were completely facing him, straddling his legs. His hands found your face, cupping your jaw. “My dear. I simply cannot keep watching you live a life that I cannot be fully involved with. I know that this is a lot to ask but I truly believe that our love cannot survive if we continue living separate lives like we are right now.” One of his hands fell away from your face. His touch was cold but steady as he put his hand over yours on the dagger, bringing it slowly upwards so that the sharp tip rested just against your breast bone. He pressed the tip of the blade into your warm flesh slightly. “I want you to join me.” He finished quietly, his eyes full of hope as you processed what, exactly, he was asking of you. The cold tip of the knife pressing against the point between your breasts served as a reminder that James was being deadly serious and your gut twisted in horror at his words. He wanted you to kill yourself. To be with him for eternity. “No.” You blurted, pushing the dagger away from your chest. “No. No, absolutely not!” You pushed yourself off his lap hurriedly, watching as James’ eyes gutted and his lip curled. He stood too, stalking towards you and you cursed yourself for having released the blade. The silver glinted wickedly in the dim light as he stalked for you. “I love you too much, y/n.” He said, “I need you here with me.” “James, stop.” You yelped, backing away from him with your arms held out in front of you, palms turned up. “I love you too but I can’t die for you. Please, just give me second.” His advances continued, his face morphing from the man you loved to the monster that so many other had begged to in horror in their final moments. Your face was suddenly wet with tears and your back hit the door to your shared room. Reaching for the door handle behind your back, you twisted it, turning quickly and bolting from the room. The carpet was silent beneath your bare feet as you ran down the empty corridor, but you didn’t make it very far. James appeared suddenly before you, his hands grabbing onto your shoulders and slamming you against the hard wall. His face was contorted with anger, yet his eyes were soft with a devastation which, had you not been so desperate to get away from him, would have shattered your heart. “How dare you run from me.” He scolded harshly, a single tear spilling onto his pale cheek as he shook you slightly. “James, please.” The silver of the knife glinted in the corner of your vision from where it was clutched in James’ grip, the hand he held it in clamping down on your shoulder. “Give me a second, I want to talk to you about it.” You pleaded, your voice rising. James’ eyes were wild and it seemed as if he were engaging with some sort of inner conflict within himself. “I can’t. I need you here with me. I refuse to watch up leave me everyday for any longer, knowing that the only reason that you return is because I am stuck here. I refuse to watch you walk out those doors, unsure if you will actually return ever again. I refuse to watch you grow old and frail whilst I remain this way until the very world burns.” You sobbed as he slammed you against the wall over and over again, punctuating his words. His face had gone red with pure anger and desperation, and there was nothing that you could do as he lifted his arm high above his head, the silver of the knife winking down at you. “JAMES.” You roared, your hands raising, ready to try and block the path of the blade. “If you do this, James, I will never love you again. I swear to god.” Your shouted words caused James’ set look to falter. “I’ll become just like Elizabeth. I will spend all of eternity hating you. Kill me, and I will never let you see me again.” His mouth went slack, a hint of humanity filling his dark eyes. “I love you, James. But I can’t let you take my family, my friends, my life, away from me. You, do this and I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to love you anymore.” His hand shook, his lip curling into a snarl at your words. His eyes darted from your face to the hand that you held up in front of your face, readying to intercept the dagger’s path to your heart. His gaze fell onto the ring wrapped around your finger, the material symbol of your love for one another. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, his eyes glued to your ring finger. “But I would rather have you here with hate in your heart than out there with love. I need you with me.” His voice was rough but horrifyingly soft. “You will learn to love me again.” And with that, he plunged his arm down, your scream ricocheting off the walls of the hallway, echoing throughout every corridor of the hotel. The blade slid into your chest with ease, your hands grasping onto the sharp edges of the knife in your attempt to pry James’ hand off the hilt. It cut deep into you palms and you sputtered and grunted, your own blood warm and slick as it coated your hands, running down your front in torrents and pooling at your feet, coating the tips of James’ shoes. You gasped and panted, James’ face unmoving as his eyes bore into yours, watching as you fought against him. There was no pain in his eyes, only cold determination. “I -” You fought to stay conscious through the burning waves of pain that radiated from your chest, your rapidly dulling eyes finding James’ own. His face, although set in harsh tenacity, was streaked with tears as your shoulders began to slump. “I didn’t love you enough.” You groaned out in a whisper, the edges of your vision blurring into blackness. The dagger stuck in you chest began to slowly slice its way upwards slightly as you legs gave out beneath you, the knife running through your chest to the wall behind you the only thing keeping you from crumpling to the floor. James’ face turned utterly pale at your words, his shock and fear the last thing you saw before the world turned dark. taglist: @forevercountess @kitwalkerangel @milly-louise (if you wanna be added or removed, just let me know <3)

#american horror story #ahs #james march #james patrick march #james x reader #one shot #angst #ahs season 5 #hotel #hotel cortez

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toomanystoriessolittletime · 3 years

Text

disobedience

Summary: Surprising Dave York at the only place he told you not to find him was risky. Wearing nothing but a coat and some lingerie, even riskier.

Pairing: Dave York x F!Reader

Wordcount: 2.5k

Warnings: office sex

A/N: diving deeper into the York pit... 👀

Masterlist

Taglist in reblog

It was risky.

Going into the only place that he told you you should never show up. Never under any circumstances. You never asked questions, but it was only natural that you were curious about the place that seemed to be off-limits for you, wasn’t it?

You didn’t mean to fuck your boss. But then again you were only a babysitter and Dave York had probably been the nicest and most compassionate father you had ever met. That he was almost 20 years older, freshly divorced, and that there was something dangerous in his eyes was also a nice benefit.

“How can I help you?” The lady at the reception asked with a professional smile. It was close to 10 pm on a Friday. You knew Carol had the kids this weekend and you also knew that Dave had been working a new case the whole week and you would probably not see him until you were due to pick up the girls from their ballet lesson next Wednesday and bring them home.

“I’m looking for Dave York? I’ve been trying to reach him but he isn’t answering his phone. I seem to have forgotten my keys in his house when I picked up the girls earlier. I’m the babysitter. And now I can’t get to my apartment,” you sighed, hoping your lie was believable.

The lady frowned, sighing herself.

“Agent York doesn’t want to be disturbed. That’s probably why you can’t reach him. I’m trying to call him.”

“I could also just go to his office? It’ll only take a minute,” you tried. She smiled at you.

“I wish I could let you in there by yourself, but this is the CIA. I can’t just let you waltz in there,” she explained, already the phone at her ear. You nodded, already feeling your chances of surprising Dave slip away. But apparently he wasn’t only ignoring you today. Sighing she put down the phone.

“He’s not answering. Tell you what. Wait 15 minutes over there until my colleague is coming from her break, then I’ll walk you over to his office, okay?” She smiled and you breathed out relieved.

“You are a lifesaver.” You smiled.

Who thought 15 minutes could be this long? Straightening the coat you were wearing you pulled out your phone, texting Dave.

Still ignoring me? ;)

It didn’t even take a minute before he answered.

I’m not ignoring you, I’m working. Now be a good girl and let me work. I’ll make it up to you by not punishing you too hard next week.

What if I want you to?

Thin ice, sweetheart. Thin ice.

Smiling to yourself you scrolled through your phone, checking your emails. You had finished your last exam for the semester only yesterday and you had applied for some internships. Your eyes widened when you already had an answer from one of the places you would literally kill to do an internship in.

“Ready?” The lady from the desk called and you looked up, nodding at her with a smile before you got up from your seat and followed her.

“I love the coat. The weather has been insane these last few days. Where is it from?” She asked you in the elevator.

“I don’t know. My… boyfriend bought it for me last month. He kinda ripped my old coat…” You explained.

“Boyfriend? I wish I was that lucky. But at least I have my roommate.”

The rest of the way to Dave’s office was silent. This building was like a maze and now you were grateful that you had someone walking you through it.

“Here we are.” She already knocked on the door and you heard his murmured “come in” through the door.

“Mr. York? This lovely lady apparently had been trying to reach you because she can’t get into her apartment.” She looked at you and you smiled thankfully at her before your eyes found Dave’s. He looked tired. His tie loosened, the first two buttons of his shirt undone, the sleeves rolled back. There was a flicker of surprise in his eyes before his eyes left yours.

“Thank you, Miss Diaz,” he said to the Lady next to you who only smiled at him.

“Greet this boyfriend of yours. He has a great taste,” she winked before she walked past you. Breathing in deep you took a step inside Dave’s office. There was a flicker of annoyance in his eyes and you swallowed your nervousness down.

“Close the door,” he said, leaving no room for any argument. You walked in, closing the door behind you. Leaning with your back against it as you looked at him, your hand still on the door handle. You locked it and Dave raised one eyebrow.

“I thought I made it pretty clear that I’m busy and that you aren’t supposed to come here,” he said cooly.

“You did.” You bit your lip as you looked at him.

“And yet here you are. I really don’t have time for this.” He shook his head.

“Are you sure?” you asked, breathing in deep, a little smile on your face. He looked at you, his eyes trying to analyze you. He always did that when he couldn’t figure out what was going on in your mind.

“Are there cameras in this office?” you asked. He frowned, shaking his head.

“Good,” you winked, before you unfastened the belt of your coat, letting it fall to the ground.

Dave didn’t say anything, his eyes not leaving yours for a moment before he finally took you in. Biting your lip as his eyes wandered down your body, you felt yourself grow nervous. You could never read him. He always looked kinda grumpy and you could count the moments you caught him laughing on one hand. You knew he liked what you were wearing. He told you himself the first time you wore it. It was a deep purple silk bra, only holding together by the bow in front. The same with the very small thong, two bows on the side. You decided on a black garter belt, holding the black stockings you were wearing. You even wore heels, deciding to take an Uber to get you from your place to here, before you could chicken out of going here wearing close to nothing.

“You really missed me, huh?” Dave asked, wetting his lips.

“You didn’t let me cum the last time,” you pouted.

“And you know damn well why,” he sighed, closing his eyes. You could see one of his hands disappearing under his desk. “And you clearly didn’t learn your lesson showing up here of all places wearing nothing but this.” He got up from where he was sitting, walking over to you.

He stopped right in front of you and you shivered, feeling him so close. He shook his head, leaving down to breathe you in before he kneeled down, picking up your coat.

“That boyfriend of yours has a good taste,” he teased. You were about to open your mouth to answer when he kissed you. You gasped against his lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth, dominating the kiss as his arms pulled you close against his chest. Your hands wandered up his chest, clutching the fabric of his shirt.

“Think you can cum in the next 10 minutes? Cause I really don’t have time,” he murmured against your lips. You grinned, your hands running down his chest, opening his belt.

“The question is, can you make me?” you whispered, moaning when he slapped your ass. Hard. His other hand grabbed your jaw, making you look up at him. His eyes seemed even darker.

“You better be a good girl or we both are gonna have to deal with what you started by ourselves. Now get down on your knees,” His voice seemed to have dropped an octave and if you weren’t wet before, you certainly were now. Getting down on your knees you made quick work of his belt, opening his pants and pulled his already half-hard cock out of his underwear.

You kissed the tip, your eyes not leaving his as you parted your lips, taking his whole length down your throat before he got really hard. You couldn’t manage it when he was hard. He was too thick.

“You really are hungry for my cock, aren’t you?” His hands brushed over your cheek tenderly. You felt him grow hard as you continued to suck him off. Something about being able to make this man grow hard just with a touch made you still feel beyond powerful.

Dave grabbed you by the back of your head, holding you still before he looked down at you, his eyes asking for consent. You just relaxed your jaw, your hands on his thighs squeezing lightly before he began to move. Slowly he fucked your mouth, knowing exactly how deep you could take it.

“Such a good fucking girl for me,” he groaned quietly, moving faster. You gagged as he went deeper, tears springing into your eyes, as you breathed through your nose slowly.

“Fuck I could just cum down your throat. That’d teach you huh?” He moaned. “Teach you that you will not get to cum until you fucking listen to what I say,” he slipped his cock out of your mouth, pulling you up, his hands still on your neck as he kissed you hard.

“Hands on the desk, and take your fucking panties off.” He hissed, his hand stroking himself as he watched you.

Unsteady you walked over, pushing your panties down on the way, before you leaned with your two hands on his desk, looking over your shoulder to see Dave bend down to pick your panties up.

“Soaked. Shit, you really want to cum,” he chuckled to himself, pushing your panties into the pocket of his pants as he walked over, his hand still stroking his cock.

“Eyes up front,” he snapped as he caught you looking. You obeyed immediately, feeling yourself shiver as you breathed in deep. You could feel your arousal dripping out of you. You really were more than ready for him.

Feeling him behind you, you swallowed, his chest against your back as his hands unwrapped the fabric holding your bra together, pushing it down your arms. He played with your tits, his hands warm as he teased you.

“Now here’s what’s gonna happen,” he whispered against your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you. Hard. You’re allowed to cum as often as you can manage and I’m gonna cum inside you. And then I want you to get that coat on and let a taxi take you to my place and wait for me in my bed,” he nibbled at your earlobe and you closed your eyes, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning.

“I’m gonna keep your underwear here, so better keep my cum inside of you, if you don’t want it dripping down your legs on your way,” you could feel his lips against your skin as he smirked and you couldn’t help but moan.

“You like that? My cum inside of you while you wear nothing but that garter belt and a coat?” You felt the tip of his cock in between your folds.

“I need words, baby,” he whispered.

“Yes, Sir,” you whimpered.

“Good girl,” he kissed your temple before you felt his cock push inside of you. You let your head fall down, embracing the delicious burn that still came no matter who wet you were and no matter how much he prepared you when his cock invaded your tight walls.

“Fuck…” you moaned when his hips slapped against your ass and he was settled deep inside of you.

“You gotta keep quiet,” Dave said before he began to move.

He was never gentle and you absolutely loved it. Grabbing the edge of his desk hard you met his thrusts, biting your lip to keep yourself from moaning out loud as he rammed into you.

“Dave…” you moaned, your orgasm so close, when one of his hands left your hip, closing over your mouth as he pulled your upper body, against his.

“I told you to be quiet…” he hissed into your ear, his hand not leaving your mouth as you whimpered at the changed angle he was thrusting up into you. His other hand grabbed one of your tits, squeezing hard as he fucked you deep.

“I’m close so you better cum…” he groaned. You covered his hand on your tit with yours, pushing it down your body until his fingers were on your clit.

“Take what you need,” he whispered, kissing your shoulder. You moved his hand, his rough fingertips circling your clit. You weren’t even trying to be quiet anymore, focused on chasing your orgasm.

“Cum. Now,” he growled, thrusting harder and you saw stars. Riding the wave of your orgasm as Dave fucked you through it, groaning into your shoulder as he sucked on your skin, surely leaving a mark you would wear with pride.

“Squeezing me so fucking good. Gonna cum…” he groaned, his thrusts getting sloppier until he stopped and you felt him spill deep inside of you. You both breathed hard, Dave finally releasing your mouth only to turn your head towards him to find your lips in a demanding kiss.

“I’ll try to be home by 2 am,” he whispered against your lips. Still trying to normalize your breathing you nodded. Slowly he slipped out of you and you felt hot as you felt a little of his cum drip down your thighs. Turning around you saw him pull his pants up, straightening his clothes before he walked over picking up your coat again.

“You really gonna me go back naked?” you asked amused, letting him help you into the coat. He made sure to button it up, tying up the belt, leaving his hands on your hips.

“I really am. Yeah,” he kiissed you softly, his eyes warm as he looked at you. “I really needed that, thank you.”

“You’re more than welcome, Mr. York,” you teased and he shook his head, grinning to himself before he parted from you, walking back to sit down at his desk, bringing yout bra that lay on it to his nose, before he tucked it into the first drawer of his desk.

“Text me when you’re home,” he looked at you. Nodding with a small smile you turned around on unsteady legs before you unlocked the door.

“Don’t make me wait too long,” you said over your shoulder before you opened the door and walked out, hoping to remember the way.

It was 30 minutes later when you found yourself back at his place, laying in his bed completely naked and content.

“I’ll be waiting for you here then.” You texted him, taking a picture of yourself hugging his pillow, already anticipating the moment he got home.

#my writing #dave york #Dave York x reader #dave york x f!reader #Pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #dave york x you

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buckyjamess-archive · 3 years

Text

𝓼𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓷𝓽𝓮𝓮𝓷 | 𝓫𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼

chapter six • want to be tagged? or shoot me a message • a/n: I'm going for the most posted chapters in one week record here, leave me alone. :') wordcount: 2.5k+ • warnings: man, reader deserves a break- fluff at the end though.

summary

once a test subject and once a weapon, you, better known as seventeen live a peaceful life in the shadows of society until an old friend drags you into the world you so desperately want to leave behind but at least you're not the only weapon.

masterlist- previous - next

"So, this is it."

It's just the kitchen you'd stepped into, big, black and luxurious. A bar many pubs would be jealous of and a fish tank the size of your bathroom back in blue city, walls decorated in abstract arts and expensive looking vases and sculptures gathered around. A big chandelier hangs above the dining table a big bouquet of red roses in the middle. with a stunning view of Highgrove; dozens of lights coming from the buildings built around the ones you're standing in. A picture in a frame.

"I just moved in so you'll have to do with the couch," Jill chuckles "but it's big enough to fit all of you and ten others."

Her hand waves in the air, there a couch for thirty, sunken into a pit, putting your lone chair ashame. A big screen hanging above a big fireplace, two succulents on each end of the mantel, a stack of magazines in the middle.

"But make yourself at home," Jill speaks again, "I've got a bathroom, second door on the right of the hallway and seriously, my fridge is stacked so if you're hungry- dig in."

You all nod, standing in formation a few feet away, taking in the new surroundings, in awe. Overnight bags hanging from shoulders. Heavy legs from the stairs just taken, the elevator not working- 20th floor.

"I'll be off now, big day tomorrow." Jill smiles, thumb pointing backwards "end of the hallway if you need me; i sleep naked though so a knock would be appreciated."

"Yeah, no- of course." Sam now chuckles, speaking for you all "thank you, again."

"Don't mention it."

With a slight wave and a nod, Jill turns around and let's her feet drag to the end of the hallway, door closing behind her.

Zemo doesn't need to be told twice to make himself feel at home. Beelining to the couch and claiming his spot by dropping his coat on it before getting back in the kitchen to snatch a snack and bottle of water out of the fridge and it doesn't take long before sam and bucky follow in his footsteps, leaving you in the middle of the kitchen- solid to the ground.

Sam, fluffing up a pillow and standing by his spot on the black couch catches sight of you and let's his eyes fall on the figure making himself comfortable, like Sam, beating a bunch of pillows. A soft hey coming from sam gets his attention, sam nods and bucky follows his gaze which lands on you. Quiet and unsure, still in the same spot as before.

Bucky isn't sure if it's the right idea or if you're willing to talk to him or even bat an eye at him, things back at the station didn't go well and since then he hadn't said a word and neither did you. He rises back to his feet and walks around the couch, a knot forming in his stomach as he takes the three steps up to enter the kitchen again, slowly to make sure he doesn't startle you out of the daze you seemed to be in.

Man, they really screwed you up back there.

"Hey," Bucky places his vibranium hand on your arm to let you know it's him and not one of the others but that simple touch is enough to make the tears fall down your cheeks again "c'mere."

Without hesitation bucky pulls your body flush against him, an arm tightly wrapped around you while the other makes its way to the back of your head where he gently strokes your hair, and places a soft kiss on your forehead. It pains him as much as it pains you– it takes a while but less than a minute before he feels your arms wrap around his waist. It's what he needed after today, it's what you needed after today and if you could stay like this forever, you would.

Bucky knows it isn't all lovey-dovey yet, there's still a lot of talking to do, something he's willing to do, something he's eager to do but this right here is enough for now.

A pardon or for now at least, there's still a long way to go before Jill gets a green light to make it official. House arrest for now, stay in a three miles radius from the apartment building you'd been put in. Still considered a threat, a ticking time bomb ready to ruin someone's day but you don't deserve that pardon, right? You've caused nothing but pain and agony for the last fifty years. Tore families apart, ended lives, played for god- hurt. You did that. Your bare hands taking lives, loves you had no rights to end. Blood on your hands.

The burning spring sun warms your skin, the soft breeze a nice contrast and the sound of city life is surprisingly calming. A lone man dangling in a bosun's chair at 20 stories high, cleaning the big floor to ceiling windows, life hanging on a threat, literally. You're glad you're seated on a balcony, safe. Your plate with spaghetti on the table has run cold and the carton box with seventeen on it in black letter has been left untouched since Jill had placed it there.

'Everything that's you.'

But you know who you is, you know what you is- you are a monster, the machine, the weapon. You should no longer be here, living between and with the innocent.

That's why you've been pushing yourself away, avoiding the others like the plague, wafting away every word that's been spoken your way– they should be enjoying their worry free lives, have their happily ever after but instead there here, in the same place as you, all because of you.

As you've been ignoring Jill for a few minutes now. Leaning against the doorframe of the door leading to the balcony, arms crossed in front of her chest and eyes squinted as she too shivered at the thought of the little man holding into a thin black line, sacrificing his life for a set of sparkling clean windows.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you know her- the fruity scents from cups of tea, the arms wrapped around your neck, arms and legs whenever she used you as a jungle gym, that birthday card pressed against the glass of your cryostasis chamber and the endless stories wandering in the back of your mind. You know her and yet you don't. It's a blur, a single whisper from the person caught inside a body you barely knew yourself.

A cause for the fallen and forgotten victims for hydra; let them into society, help them and let them be heard. Fight courts, defend the brainwashed little soldiers, give them a chance at life, make them feel again. Jill did that, fascinated by all things hydra, for the better, all because of you. Jill worked hard and for the last three years, she'd been trying to find you.

"Look, I'm aware you might not know me," Jill starts, a sigh leaving her lips "but i know you and you've been a big part of my life and I owe you this."

"I don't deserve this." You mumble back "you know what I did."

"That wasn't you."

"It was." You argue back

Pushing herself off the doorframe, Jill makes her way to the railing and tightly wraps her hand around the edge before bending over, resting both arms on it, gaze never leaving the tiny man.

"I moved to Russia when I was five. When you became my dads 'little project'." Jill air quotes "and even i knew it was wrong- I was five."

You stay quiet but your eyes burn into the back of the woman standing a feet away.

"They tortured you, they manipulated you, abused you and used you and you still dare to tell me you don't deserve a bit of freedom?" Jill scoffs "the things they did to you an-"

"I didn't fight hard enough." You cut her off and it makes Jill scoff once again

"You did!" Her voice raised, you're taken aback "that's the problem, you did but you don't remember- they had you wiped clean before you even had the chance."

Frustrated, Jill turns around to face you. Tear brimmed eyes looking directly into your soul.

"The good in you fought against that serum so fucking hard but you never had a chance." Jill breathes out "you don't remember but I do."

Annoyed at the cold shoulder she's getting, Jill snaps her head back with a groan, blinking away the tears and runs a hand over her face before looking down upon you again

"I'm just wondering why you don't want to accept any help?"

"I've been doing it on my own for most of my life." You answer back, quickly, without any thought because it's the truth and nothing but the truth.

"And you don't have to any longer!" Jill snaps back "there's people out there who want to help you, all you need to do is take their hand!"

Funny you think the last time I let someone in to help me, he put me in jail

and just the thought of him snaps something again, you even surprise yourself by the change and raise of your own voice

"Everytime I let someone in and trust them, he does something so stupid!"

You're not talking about people anymore, you're talking about him. It's him you trusted the most and it's him who crushed it all.

"And if he'd just told me, I would've been fine but it's always behind my back, everyone does."

"Who is he?" Jill asks carefully and softly "you clearly care about what he thinks of you-"

You do. You do care about what he thinks because it feels good to be liked by someone, cared for by someone, loved by someone. He made you feel that way with just two days of knowing him and made those feelings stronger with each passing day but he's the one to crush it all and it's confusing. You've been living without emotions and feelings for almost fifty years, and they're confusing and felt in ten fold the moment you started life.

"Who is he?" Jill quips again "I'd like to have a talk with him."

"Bucky." you breath out

You're pacing back and forth, slowly. Head far in the clouds, not quite on earth. A piece of paper or something alike in your hand. The soft yellow light from the kitchen casting a glow behind you and from where he's laying on the couch and above the soft snores of zemo and sam, he can hear those gears in your head turning.

He doesn't know how to talk this out, how to fix this one. He made a mistake, a big fat mistake as Jill told him earlier- storming up to him as if ready to kick him out of the window. What you thought– so he left you alone for the day, with effort. All bucky wanted was to see that smile again, her that voice again without the tremble or anger.

Clearing his throat, he sits himself up on his elbows to get an even better look at you "Hey, you okay?"

He's surprised that it's all it takes to pull you back to earth. A set of eyes on him the moment he finished his sentence. You're thinking.

"What?"

"Are you okay?"

With knitted brows your gaze lands on whatever it is in your hands and back up at him, gears turning harder than before, you simply nod.

"You sure?" Bucky quips

His eyes stay on you as you once again inspect the thing in your hand and watch around the place before your features soften on your face and shrug.

"I don't know." You simply state.

The features on your face flip through emotions, brows knitted together or raised, confusion, anger, sadness and he wants to invite you in again but he doesn't know how, but he doesn't need to know how. With one last look down in your hands, you find his eyes again and make your way to the living room and circle around the couch to where Bucky had made home and wordlessly sit down on the edge. There isn't much needed to know where this is going, you've walked this road before– bucky stretches his arm out next to him and shimmies his body closer to the back of the couch, effortlessly lifts up the thin blanket and watches patiently as you lay down beside him before dropping the blanket on the both of you. Your head on his bicep feels right and something he'd missed. You're close again.

His eyes land on the square piece of paper in your hand, a small candid. It's you and it can't be denied, the little kid in the picture is you. With squinted eyes, a bright smile and a big birthday cake in front of you 'happy 7th birthday y/n!' And the date written underneath it in sharpie.

"She looks so happy." You whisper softly

Taking the picture out of your hand, bucky brings it closer to his face and inspects every single detail.

"looks like you won a fight with a kid who knocked your teeth out." Bucky grins, pointing out the gap between your teeth and a relief washed down from his shoulders when he hears you snort and sees the smile on your face.

"Wouldn't be surprised."

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you when you turn your head to face bucky- faces inches apart and noses barely touching. Staring right into each other's soul.

"I'm sorry." Bucky mumbles "but meant every word I said that day."

Taking the picture from between his fingers, you turn your head again to take another look at..you, yourself..another version of you and back to the men close next to you.

"I don't even know who i am." you whisper again as you search his face for any regret or pity but you can't.

The vibranium hand that touches the side of your face to push hair out if your view, sends a shiver down your spine and in the first time in forever, you feel something in the depths of your stomach, something so familiar yet it's not but it makes the corners of your lips rise to your eyes.

"We'll find out who you are."

We'll. We. We will find out. Us. This.

"I like who you are now." Bucky confesses

"I don't." You press your lips together in a small smile.

"We'll find that person together then," Bucky now whispers "if you let me help."

Like a fish on dry land, you open and close your mouth to say something, anything but nothing comes out. Taking a deep breath you smile softly and nod at the soldier next to you who copies your smile.

Accept some help.

A minute of silence passes. A minute filled with tension, watching each other, inching closer and closer and for the first time in his life, bucky really takes matter into his own hands- his hand that pushed away the hairs out of your face earlier is now soft against your cheek but the lips that he meets in a kiss are even softer than that and the way your nose scrunches up when he pulls back and places a kiss there is the cutest thing he's ever seen

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #the winter soldier #tfatws #*mine #*seventeen

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samanthadalton · 3 years

Note

Request, Mc is on lockdown and Blaine invites her over for beers and much more😏

loved this idea hope you enjoy it, whomever you may be👀👀

f!mc (Kennedy) x f!blaine

NSFW so reader discretion is advised (also im not that good at smut im sorry)

tag list: @alleycat97 @cloud9in @blaine-hayes

this is my first time writing for Blaine so i’m sorry if it’s bad

wordcount: 2.1k

Under the stars

Kennedy huffs, exasperated as she lays in her solitary confinement as she liked to call it (but really it’s her bedroom). Because being locked away in her bedroom away from her social life at Vancross was like a mental prison, and her mom was the warden, controlling her freedom. Ever since Winston had offered for Kennedy to date one of her classmates, she had a weird pit in her stomach that made her feel queasy. What makes matters worse, is that she had been avoiding Blaine at all costs, on campus, in class, anywhere where there were prying eyes. Because the last thing she wanted was Blaine’s name being dragged through the mud, no matter how persistent Blaine was in proclaiming she was in the photo.

A small knock at the door breaks Kennedy out of her reverie as she calls out, “come in!” Dionne enters clutching her phone, her expression giddy.

“I have a certain someone on the phone for you,” she whispers animatedly, as she waves the phone in Kennedy’s face.

Kennedy smiles as she plucks the phone from Dionne’s hand and puts it to her ear, “hey you.”

Over the line she hears Blaine’s low voice, “hey Rutherland.” Kennedy feels her heart beating in her chest faster and harder, as she hears Blaine’s voice. “Did you miss me?”

“Like crazy.” Blaine lets out a small chuckle. “So what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?”

“I was wondering if you wanted to have a drink with me?”

“I don’t think mom would appreciate me leaving my dorm to have a drink with my sworn enemy.”

“So we’re back on what mommy says?” Blaine teases, Kennedy can practically hear her smiling over the phone.

“It’s not like that. This picture is literally destroying my mom’s campaign, she’s practically keeping me locked in my room.”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to enjoy these beers all on my own.” Blaine sighs exaggeratingly, “oh and you’ll miss the surprise I had for you too.”

Kennedy raises an eyebrow, curious, “surprise? What is it?”

“Not really much of a surprise if I tell you Rutherland. Guess you’ll have to come here if you want to find out.”

“And where exactly is here?”

“I’m afraid that’s classified until you agree to come.”

Kennedy looks back at Dionne who practically has stars in her eyes, as she watches the interaction between Kennedy and Blaine. “Dionne if I-”

Not even letting her finish Dionne nods her head pushing Kennedy towards her closet, “yep done. I’ll cover for you, now go meet your girl.” Dionne squeals as she takes the phone from Kennedy’s hand, placing it to her own ear, “Kennedy’s coming, now where is she meeting you?” After giving the location Dionne helps Kennedy help ready before helping sneak out of her bedroom window, just as the sun is beginning to set. “So you’ll be going to the art building, if you turn left and walk down the pathway, you’ll see a small alleyway and if you walk through there and then turn right, there art building will be there. There should be a set of stairs at the back of the building, Blaine said she left the door unlocked for you.”

Kennedy nods, resolute, “okay. Thank you for this Dionne.”

“Don’t thank me, just know I’m expecting details later though.”

Kennedy climbs not so gracefully out of her window, careful not to alert Tatum with his super sharp bodyguard senses as she follows Dionne’s instructions. Once she reaches the building, she pulls the handle, and makes her way to the rooftop and when she reaches it, she gasps as she lays eyes on Blaine. Blaine stands at the edge of the rooftop and in the middle is a carefully laid out picnic blanket with candles surrounding it with a few blankets and pillows, as well as a cooler and a basket of food. Kennedy turns to Blaine, admiration swelling in her eyes, “you did all of this for me?”

“Of course I did Rutherland.” She passes Kennedy a beer, clinking her bottle with hers before taking her hand and leading her onto the blanket.

“So is this our thing? Breaking into places we’re not meant to be in and drinking beers?”

Blaine gives Kennedy a sweet smile, “it could be if you want it too.”

“I do,” Kennedy replies softly.

“Careful Rutherland, some might think I’m leading you to the dark side if you keep rebelling like that.”

“Maybe I’m sick of everyone controlling my life and want to just do something I want.”

Blaine laughs, “it was that mentality that got you into this scandal in the first place.” Blaine smiles but catches Kennedy’s demeanour deflating slightly, “hey Kennedy I was kidding.”

“I know,” Kennedy stares down at the bottle in her hand, slightly swinging the bottle back and forth in her hand, “it’s just Winston has been on my ass about damage control and nothing seems to be working.”

Blaine nonchalantly shrugs, “take it from someone who has been in countless scandals, it will eventually blow over, you just gotta let it play out and soon everything will be back to normal.” Blaine downs the rest of her drink before reaching into the cooler for another, “come on Rutherland, you’re falling behind.” Kennedy senses the challenge in Blaine’s tone, as she downs her entire drink in one giant swig, slightly wincing once she’s done as the acid reflux hits her. “You good?”

Kennedy triumphantly wipes her mouth with her hand, “pass me another.” The girls drink for a while, stopping every now and then to eat whatever food Blaine had packed in her basket but as the sun fully sets, darkening the night sky, Kennedy cranes her head up, her expression sobering.

“Rutherland?” Kennedy hums non committedly, “Kennedy.” Blaine says a little louder, tearing Kennedy out of her thoughts, “you okay?”

“Yeah I’m just thinking.”

“Care to share?” Blaine wiggles her eyebrows as she moves closer to the girl, wrapping her arm around her. Kennedy rests her head on her shoulder, before sighing heavily.

“Winston came up with an idea that might help me clean up my image.”

“What is it?”

“He wants me to date one of our classmates.” Kennedy feels Blaine freezing for a moment, before her hand warmly rubs at the exposed skin on Kennedy’s side.

“Do you know who?”

Kennedy shakes her head, “not yet. But is that okay with you?” Kennedy lifts her head up, to gaze into Blaine’s eyes.

“Sure, you do what you have to do for your mom,” Blaine gives Kennedy a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes, but Kennedy can see the sadness swimming beneath them.

“You know I only want you.”

“Geez Rutherland, don’t sound so desperate,” Blaine’s taunts, resulting in Kennedy nudging Blaine with her shoulder.

“Shut up.”

“Make me.” Blaine retorts, a confident smirk on her face. Kennedy takes on the challenge capturing Blaine in a long kiss. Blaine snakes her arm around Kennedy, pulling her closer, as her kisses grow hungrier, as she also devours Kennedy’s lips.

“Now who’s desperate?” Kennedy teases, breaking her kiss, letting her thumb trail the bad girl’s bottom lip. Blaine opens her mouth slightly, sucking on the tip of Kennedy’s thumb, letting it go with a satisfying pop. A devilish smirk appears on her face, as she watches Kennedy’s mouth hang open, dumbstruck.

“You were saying?” Blaine, cups the back of Kennedy’s lips and kisses her with dangerous recklessness. She peppers kisses up to Kennedy’s jaw and Kennedy feels her eyes rolling to the back of her head, once Blaine starts nibbling on her earlobe.

“Blaine…” she whimpers as she feels Blaine smiling against her neck.

“Do you like that?”

Kennedy nods aggressively, “don’t stop.” Something in Blaine seems to ignite, watching Kennedy unfold for her, and as kisses Kennedy ravenously, trying to set alight the fire inside of her. Kennedy moans into Blaine’s mouth, as their tongue’s tangle together, desire pooling in her body. Blaine slowly begins pushing Kennedy down on the blanket, until her head is resting on her pillow, she hooks her hands underneath Kennedy’s thighs spreading them, before pulling her closer. Kennedy gazes into the bad girl’s eyes, assessing the intensity in them as Blaine leans down whispering into her ear.

“Do you want me to stop?” Her hands tighten around Kennedy’s thighs, and Kennedy gulps heavily, her chest rising and falling faster, unable to keep her desire in check.

“No.”

Blaine pulls her head back slightly meeting Kennedy’s eyes, her voice low and soft, “if you want me to stop at any point you just tell me okay?”

Blaine slowly begins pulling Kennedy out of her clothes until she’s laying her fully nude. Blaine follows suit undressing herself while maintaining eye contact with Kennedy catching her every reaction, watching the hunger in her eyes intensify as she takes off more of her clothing. Under the night sky, Kennedy and Blaine’s bodies look like they’re glowing under the dim moonlight, their features only being accentuated by the shine of the stars. Blaine presses her lips to Kennedy’s chest, kissing and sucking around the apex of her breasts. She lightly begins kneading one of her breasts with one hand, her fingers slightly pinching the top, while she works wonders on the other, letting her tongue run all over it, as she softly sucks and nibbles, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Kennedy. Blaine smirks and begins kissing down her stomach, feeling the goosebumps across her skin as the cold night air, delicately hitting their skin, Once she reaches her inner thigh, Blaine hooks her hand under Kennedy’s knee, placing her leg over her shoulder. Kennedy looks down to see the want in Blaine’s eyes, blazing right through her. Tantalizingly, Blaine puts her lips on her inner thigh, languidly running her tongue up and down. Kennedy digs her heel into Blaine’s shoulder slightly, indicating for her to continue pleasuring her instead of playing games but Blaine can’t help but draw out the foreplay longer. She sits up and begins kissing from the ankle of Kennedy’s leg that’s hooked around her shoulder, and begins kissing upwards until her lips are ghosting around her inner thigh.

“Please,” Kennedy croaks out, her panting becoming heavily as she squeezes her eyes shut.

Blaine smirks as she presses her tongue against Kennedy’s sensitive spot, and Kennedy immediately bucks her hips up in response. “You seem pretty desperate to me,” Blaine whispers as she runs her tongue over Kennedy’s folds once again. She begins sucking softly at her button, sending tingles up Kennedy’s spine as her fingers join her tongue. She begins circling her clit with her thumb as she laps at her entrance with her tongue, evoking a series of moans and groans from the girl. “God you taste so good.” She places two fingers into Kennedy’s entrance and begins to slowly pump them in and out. Kennedy props up on her elbows watching Blaine fuck her as her hip moving along with her fingers, only deepening the friction bringing her more pleasure. She throws her head back, gasping heavily, feeling her body tightening up as Blaine pumps more intensely, fucking the complete oblivion out of her.

She lets out a series of strangled moans, her voice becoming hoarse, as her entrance contracts against Blaine’s fingers indicating she’s close. Blaine brings her tongue back into the mix, licking up the juices around her fingers, and even after Kennedy comes, she continues fucking her, letting her ride of every wave of her orgasm. Kennedy’s legs begin shaking slightly, and Blaine wraps her arms around them, holding them in place as she continues eating her out, tasting the evidence of Kennedy’s desire which only seems to spur her on more. Eventually Kennedy flops down, exhausted, and Blaine delicately places her legs down, and crawls on top of her, giving her one final long kiss before collapsing down next to her.

“That was…” Kennedy bites her lips, still breathless from the ordeal as she snuggles into Blaine’s side.

“Yeah..” Blaine kisses the crown of Kennedy’s head, as her eyes stare into the night sky, her head full of thoughts.

“What are you thinking about?” Kennedy mumbles into her neck.

“Us.” Kennedy sighs heavily before turning to meet Kennedy’s eyes, her face slightly falling. “I- I really like you Kennedy and I don’t want stupid trashy tabloids ruining whatever comes for us. I already had one relationship destroyed by them, I won’t let them ruin you too.” Blaine’s voice comes out gruff, low but filled with intensity.

Kennedy shakes her head slightly, “I like you too Blaine, I won’t let anyone ruin this. Not the paps, not my mom, not this stupid feud, nothing.” Kennedy presses a sweet but gentle kiss against her lips.

Blaine sighs deeply, “I guess you should be going. Dionne can’t stall for that long.”

“I don’t think I can walk right now. Besides,” she presses her body closer to Blaine’s as Blaine tightens her hold around her, “I would rather stay out here with you.”

#playchoices #choices foreign affairs #blaine x mc #blaine hayes #f!blaine #f!blaine x mc #hope you guys enjoy it 😭#again i’m not that good at smut so

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amjustagirl · 3 years

Text

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven.

Masterlist link here

AO3 link here

Summary:

Akaashi Keiji catches glimpses of another life in his dreams. He dreams of fields of endless gold, of constellation of stars that light up the night sky. He hears echoes of birdsong in her laughter, her songs to the gods in the wind.

Wordcount: 1.9k

Author’s note: This fic is a little different from my usual work, so I’m a little nervous about publishing it. If you do like it, would love if you leave a comment / reblog / anything!

Pro tip: Italics denote scenes in Akaashi’s dreams / past.

If you’d like to be included in the taglist, do drop me a msg/ask!

But then his dreams start to take a dark turn, though he doesn’t notice it at the start.

There is light dancing on the edge of his eyelids, and when he blinks he finds himself in a field of never-ending gold. ‘You’re obsessed with flowers ’ he teases her, leaning on his hands to allow the breeze to ruffle his hair and whisper long lost secrets in his ear.

‘But they’re so pretty. It’s like they were put on this earth by the gods to remind us that life can be beautiful, after all.’

‘Now who’s being poetic, hm?’

‘Don’t tease! I’ll give you a more prosaic reason then. I’ve loved flowers ever since I worked for a florist after mum died to earn a little money on the side and ended up falling in love with the look on people’s faces when they buy flowers for themselves and the people they love. ’

‘Why don’t I see you work at the florist shop then? ’ He frowns, thinking of the bustling, cosy little shop in the town square owned by Hana-chan’s mom.

‘It didn’t work out’, she says simply. ‘Well, never mind that. Just shush and bask in the sun, let the sky gods weave rainbows into your dreams’.

Her words linger in his mind, and he foolishly finds himself searching for rainbows in the sky the next day.

‘Listen to the sky, Keiji ’, she calls, her laughter like birdsong. ‘ Do you think the wind will answer our prayers today?’

‘You answer my question first ’, he grumbles. ‘Hana-chan cornered me at school to scream at me to mind my own business again. Does that have anything to do with the bruises I saw on your arm last week? What kind of trouble are you getting yourself into when I’m not around? ’

‘Nosy, nosy Keiji ’, she teases, and he knows she’s just deflecting his concerns again. ‘You’re just overthinking things again’.

‘Promise me you’ll be careful’, he pleads. ‘Promise me you’re not doing anything stupid‘.

‘Stop worrying, silly boy, I promise I’ll be fine’, she murmurs, her voice lost in the wind.

‘You need to tell me what’s going on, you can’t go on like this at this rate’ , he hears himself say, desperation laced in his words.

He looks down. There is a tapestry of mottled bruises and angry welts on her arms, paint strokes of yellow and blue and purple and red that is gut-wrenching in the violence it implies.

‘It’s not my secret to tell, Keiji’ , she says, unwavering.

He wakes up, the pit in his stomach slowly filling up with dread. His dreams are turning out to be less like a shojo manga, more like a thriller that he suspects will give its protagonist a terrible end.

'Have you been a good friend to Hana-chan these days? ’ the man asks, an unfriendly smile playing on his lips.

Akaashi (or rather, him in her – though she’s in here somewhere too so it’s a little confusing) frowns, but accepts the box of vegetables and eggs held out to him anyway. ‘I suppose’, he answers, the load heavy in his arms, and the man seems to accept his response, humming an offbeat tune.

‘Well, I hope you can keep a secret, sweet girl’ the man laughs, tossing his cigarette butt on the grass before walking away. Sparks smoulder in the dry grass, and Akaashi hurries to balance the box on his hip before stamping them out.

‘That’s Hana-chan’s father, Nakamura-san ’, she tells him, voice strained. ‘I need you to act normal around him, got that?’

‘Might need you to find me the definition for your normal’ he says drily. ‘That word’s lost its meaning to me these days ’.

He hears her chuckle, but she doesn’t sound amused.

Hana-chan corners him when he’s in her body and he’s stupid enough not to notice the fist that swings his way.

‘I told you, you little creep’, she snarls, her nails digging into his arms. ‘I told you to stay the fuck away from me, but did you listen? No! I saw you last night, creeping around my family’s house with that stupid phone of yours – did you really think I wouldn’t notice you? I’m warning you to stay away or I will fucking end you, got that? ’

And she spits in his face, and he’s still left trying to make sense of the sting of cold liquid on his cheek when burning hands shove down the stairs. Concrete and human flesh clashes, the victor already predetermined, his body wracked with pain as he lands heavily, face down on the floor.

‘Last warning to stay away, you creep’, she shrieks before turning on her heel. There are no other students in the deserted hallway – not that anyone would come to help, not from his experience.

‘Are you finally going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to piece your secrets together myself?’ he demands, when he scrapes himself off the floor, body aching from bruises in full bloom.

He can hear her breathe a sigh. ‘It’s a long story’ , she finally says.

‘Right now, all I have is time’ he answers drily. ‘Try me ’.

So she tells him about taking a part time job with Hana’s mom, the town’s florist for some extra cash. She tells him about the noises she hears whenever Hana’s mom steps out of the store, faint echoes of whimpers and sobs and broken cries for help, and how she puts two and two together when she sees the bruises on her classmate’s arms and legs. Her voice shakes when she tells him what she saw when she stole upstairs towards Hana’s bedroom one cloudy afternoon, how Hana’s dad gets off on hurting his teenage daughter, how she tried to report what she saw - but who’d believe the words of a teenage girl over the town mayor .

‘And now he’s taking it out on Hana-chan, which is why she hates me but I’m not going to let him stop me’, she tells him stubbornly and he can hear his past self gulp.

‘Are you insane? You shouldn’t get yourself involved. Tell someone, anyone. If you continue like this, you’re going to get yourself killed at this rate’.

‘Stop being a worrywart, Keiji! ’ she laughs, but the sound is hollow. ‘I’ll be fine, I promise’.

She’s back at the forest shrine, holding her hands together in prayer. The mangled remains of dandelions lie beside her knees, decapitated flower maidens sacrificed for wishes that they both know won’t ever come true.

‘I told you no one will listen to me, Keiji’, she cries, her face buried in her hands. ‘They all think I’m a little child who’s making up stories for attention ’.

‘There’s nothing you can do unless you have a record of it. Just keep your head down, or he’ll come after you next. How many times have I told you not to set yourself on fire to keep others warm? ’

Her head shoots up, and a feral grin ignites like wildfire on her face. ‘That’s brilliant, Keiji! ’

‘Wait no - that wasn’t meant to encourage you – that was meant to be metaphorical!’

‘If it all works out, it’s because of you! ’ she runs off, throwing her head back as she laughs, challenging the wind to catch her if it dares, before disappearing further into the woods.

‘You have got to be kidding me ’ he groans, kicking off the blankets to stare at his or well, her legs in horror. Dried blood is still caked into the deepest scrapes on her legs, and he can feel the ache from the bruises deep in his bones. ‘What on earth did you do?’

‘I may or may not have slipped when I was scaling Hana’s drainpipe’ .

He can feel the vein in his temple start to throb. ‘You what?’ he bites out.

‘They didn’t see me, I swear!’

He groans in despair this time, dropping his head in his hands. What is he supposed to do with someone so ridiculously obstinate?

‘If anything happens – ‘ she begins to say but he cuts her off before she can complete her sentence.

‘You promised me you wouldn’t do anything remotely risky and I refuse to let you put yourself in danger again. ’

She sighs, and worry flickers like a flame in his heart.

‘Fine – just. If anything happens – ‘

‘Which it won’t, not on my watch’ , he tells her firmly.

The smell of smouldering ash hits his nostrils.

His eyes fly awake. He’s back in the old wooden house again, but he chases his curiosity to the front yard, where he finds the letterbox razed to the ground.

‘A warning to stay out of his business ’, he hears her say, her voice determined. ‘But I’m not going to be spooked just by that. ’

‘You promised to be careful’ he shouts, properly angry this time. ‘Look at what you’ve done! ’.

‘I refuse to be a bystander to his madness’, she screams back. ‘I'd be tarred by his sins if I choose to do nothing about them. ’

His shirt is soaked in cold sweat when he stumbles out of bed, slapping his palms against his face to reassure himself that he’s not back in the dreamscape.

‘It’s not real. It can’t be real’, he tells his reflection firmly, but his mirror self only stares back at him.

In the morning, he skips class to make a trip back home, intent on leaving the omamori where it belongs, back in his childhood bedroom, so he can look forward to adulthood without these ridiculous dreams clouding his way. He stops by the florist on the way, as is his usual practice these days.

‘Flowers for your mother?’ the florist asks, when she opens the shutters to greet him, her first customer of the day.

‘Yes’, he answers shortly, and on an impulse he adds (because he needs something to fill the newly empty space on his desk) - ‘and maybe a houseplant. Something that’s relatively easy to take care of would do the trick.’

She hums in thought, fingers busy tying ribbons in the bunch of yellow roses for his mother. He doesn’t need to ask to know that the baby’s breath she includes is on the house.

‘What about rosemary?’ she suggests.

‘For remembrance?’ he asks, wrinkling his nose at the reference to Hamlet. The sudden thought of poor, mad Ophelia, floating dead in a stream, water lilies in her hair hits a chord that’s a little too jarring. ‘Um. Maybe a cactus might be better instead.’

He wonders if he’s imagining things, but he catches a flash of disappointment on her face before she replies easily - ‘sure!’, bending down to pull out a grumpy looking bulb full of thorns. Then she waves him off, his purchases packed in a neat brown bag. ‘Please come again!’

The cactus replaces the omamori, sitting neatly on his desk. It refuses to die even when he forgets to water it for weeks at a time.

Taglist:

@bongofrito

@forgetou @animeflower26 @kageyamakock @underrated-fruit-tarts-official

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too-scared-to-do-this · 3 years

Text

Of the Devil’s head

Chapter five - Mushy brains and heartbeat flairs

Sander’s side fanfiction

Wordcount: 1340

Ships: still just prinxiety

TW: well mentions of blood, wooziness, cursing, mentions of various forms of ridiculous torture. I think that should be all. let me know if I missed any :)

Summary of the whole story: They say, the one that wears the crown rules all - the living, the dead, the walking, the crawling, the rooted, the sane and the mad. They say, once you own the crown, you become the most powerful being on Earth and beyond. Roman’s stolen bigger things - a measly little crown won’t present a problem, even if he has to steel it straight off of the devils head!

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

Chapter five - Mushy brains and heartbeat flairs

Roman was too preoccupied with senseless babbling to notice the guard coming back. He didn’t even notice when the keys chimed as the cell got unlocked. What he did notice though was when the bars, he was heavily leaning on, succumbed to his weight.

Well not exactly, but the thief has lost a lot of blood. He fell forward, landing on his hands and knees. “Wow… the ground is very hard…” he mumbled.

Derius look at his sibling with a weirded-out expression. “Is it good?”

Murede shrugged. “How should I know.” And grabbed a babbling Ro under his arms.

Somewhere in his fogy brain he knew this was bad. He knew this demon figure was trying to take him somewhere. So he put all his effort into grounding his feet. Which just ended up in him being dragged out of there. He pulled on his arms, squirming as much as his injuries let him. “Where are you taking me?” he heard himself ask.

Nobody answered.

“Let- go of me!” he tried, tossing in their grip. But the guards didn’t even flinch. So Roman was either extremely weak at the moment, or they were too strong. He opted for the first one. (No demon is stronger the Roman.)

“I want to talk to your higher-ups!” he screamed in a final attempt to free himself. Glaring daggers at the pair of siblings.

“You’re in luck.” a booming voice cut through his struggles. Both guards stopped and Roman lifted his head to see who had spoken. “Here I am.”

Virgil sat on his throne, sprawled out as always. His daggered staff in one hand and the crown proudly on his head. A deadly gleam in his mismatched eyes and the smirk on his face.

Roman’s mind went completely blank. “Woah…Pretty boy….” he mumbled.

Wait! Did he actually say that out loud?!

Judging by the complete and utter shock written on the Devil’s face, he guessed yes.

Virgil cleared his head, ignoring the way his heartbeat flared again and forced his expression back into that cool smirk. He had a part to play. “So you’re the one who dared to come down to Hell, hah?”

He got up from his throne and walked over to them, circling Roman. Like a vulture, he eyed his pray. “You don’t seem strong. Nor are good at stealth, apparently. And your brain…” he lifted Ro’s chin with his fingers. “I can’t tell if it’s really that mushy or if that’s just from the fall.” he let go.

Roman watched in awe, as his captor walked around him, criticizing him. Why didn’t anybody warn him the Devil was this hot?

Virgil made one more circle and stopped directly in front of the thief. “Tell me… why did you come here?”

Oh right…! Roman was here for something! Something about steeling -

He felt himself lean forward, hanging from the guards’ arms, face inches from the head-demon. And looked him dead in the eye. “To steel your heart.” he grinned, as charming as ever. (Or at least he hoped so.)

The king’s eyes went wide. Some weird eek-ing noise left his mouth and he stepped back. And was the haze messing with Roman’s mind again or was that blush on his face?

“My-my heart?!” the Devil gulped, staring at the stranger. How dare he-

Meanwhile Remi in the back by the throne was losing his shit! “Pffff… This is priceless!”

“Uuuuhum…” Roman swayed a little, woopy smile hanging from his lips. “You have very pretty eyes…”

It seemed like the thief’s self-control was barely holding. With his permanent filter off, his mouth was free to say whatever it desired. Even if on the expense of his ego. But Roman’s brain was getting too fogged up again to notice any of this.

“Well I-“ the crowned one stuttered. “I-“

“Ow…” the thief mumbled suddenly, loosing interest in everything around him. “My head hurts…”

“Are they-“ Virgil looked back at Remi, completely uncomfortable. The mind reader wasn’t much of a help, laughing his ass of somewhere in the corner. “Why are they-“ he looked back at the guards completely helpless.

“I want to go home…” the intruder wined again.

The guards shrugged just as much clueless as their leader. “I think it might have lost too much blood for its Human system to compensate in such a small amount of time.”

Yeah… Looking at the poor babbling fool, Virgil could see where they were coming from. Tears and scratches everywhere. Knees and hands scraped. Bandage on his head. Clothes dirty and coated with blood.

His eyes softened looking at the clueless mortal. “Why did you come here?”

“Hm?” Ro jerked his head up smiling dopy-ly. “To steel your heart silly.” he giggled.

Yap. He was completely gone.

“Yeah, right.” the king nodded, looking away. And that was certainly not blush on his face!

He looked at the guards, stern expression in place. “Take him to my suit. Give him a change of clothe and show him the shower.”

“Yes sir.” they nodded and dragged a half-conscious Roman away. He was still babbling on about how he’s going to win over that hot demon king and make him his!

Virgil let out a long sigh.

“Uuuuuuuuh!!! What’chu gonna do with it, babe? Tear it limb to limb? Fuck it senseless and then burn it alive? Uuuh! I know! Make it feel suffer endlessly and then throw it into the pit while still alive!” Remi run up to him completely giddy with energy. “And theeen maybeee…. we couldgogetthatStarbucks?”

The Devil looked back at him with a questioning look. “Shut you hole, dimwit! And you won’t get your coffee!”

“Satan damn it! I hate Hell!”

“Everybody hates Hell. That’s why we’re all stuck here.”

Roman was taken into a spacious room, shown to a shower and given clean clothes. To say he was back to normal after the shower would be a major over-statement, but he did feel a bit better. Enough to finally realize he was in the Devils bedroom!

What was the embodiment-of-all-evil planning to do with him? And oh god! What the hell was Roman thinking, babbling all that stuff!

Oh god! He surely made a fool of himself…

What is he thinking! He should be searching for an escape! He is about to be killed!

But these clothes are so soft… He has never in his life seen fabric like this… And the bed was so comfortable…

Surely the king wouldn’t get back until later. He’ll just close his eyes for a second…

Somewhere in the back of his mind the red alarm was going off. This wasn’t safe. This was stupid. This was dangerous! But the fog pushed drowned all that out.

And Roman fall asleep.

Virgil found him like that, sleeping soundly in his giant bed. He watched as the Liveling turned in a restless sleep and mumbled something incoherent.

He sighed. This creature was so strange. Everybody usually ran the moment they saw him - well that was maybe ‘cuz they saw him in his demon form, but let’s leave that aside. This measly little Human stayed.

It even dared to look him in the eyes! “Pf…” he shook his head slightly. “You came to steel my heart, hah?”

“Sad to say I don’t have one. No one in hell does. It’s a Mortal thing.” he shrugged slightly, walking over to the bed. Sitting on the corner he watched his sleeping prisoner.

His brown brows were furrowed, hair still wet and tousled from the shower. He had sharp features. Sharp and worn. Thousands of tiny little scars covered his skin, the slope of his nose.

Virgil found himself entranced by the creature laying in front of him.

To steel my heart. Right… He snickered to himself. “What will I do with you?”

And those were the words Roman awoke to. Blinking his sleepiness away, he opened his eyes. And he found himself staring into two mismatched eyes. To very frightened and caught of guard mismatched eyes.

Shit.

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

Just imagine both of them thinking it at the same time.

I’m sorry if my jumping from viewpoint to viewpoint is confusing. I tried to make it as little confusing as possible, but it’s still kinda messy.

I have a question - would you like longer chapters or is this enough? ‘Cus like I know I’d like to finish in under 10 chapters, but if I’ll continue this way I probably won’t...

Let me know, okay :3

I really hope you liked it, though!

Oh and, guess what! Now apparently I have a tag-list! XD

So: Tag-list:

@romano-hottopic

@alice-only-me

#of the devil's head #Virgil the king of hell #Roman the thief #demon/thief au #prinxiety #virgil sanders #roman sanders #remi aka sleep #ts remi #ts virgil #ts roman #thomas sanders #Sander's sides #anxiety sanders #creativity sanders #sleep sanders #what else should I tag?

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merakiaes · 4 years

Text

Rest - Tommy Shelby

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x reader

Requested: By @meteora-fc

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: None. This is really short and not proofread so sorry in advance for any possible mistakes. I hope you like it. <3 xx

Wordcount: 1600

Summary: Tommy has been busy with business and you haven’t seen much of each other because of it. You finally get to spend some time together and you just help him relax some.

Tommy had always been a busy man, being the leader both of the business and the family. You had accepted him into your life knowing fully well what you were getting yourself into but still, when he on the rare occasion was even busier than usual, you missed him.

He had been so wrapped up with the Peaky Blinders this past week that you had barely seen him, your schedules throughout the days always crashing together and steering you on different paths.

He had been staying out late every night, either at his office with piles of paperwork, the betting shop or the Garrison, always coming home when you had already fallen asleep.

Every night you tried your absolute hardest to stay awake as long as you could, just wanting a chance to kiss him good night, but you could wait for hours, and he still wouldn’t be home for another several hours after you had fallen asleep.

Because of this, you had asked him to wake you up when he arrived home so that you could fall asleep in his arms, but he never did. He didn’t have the heart to disturb you when seeing you lying in bed sleeping soundly, your hands tucked under your head and your hair hanging in front of your face slightly.

This night in particular wasn’t any different than the other past seven or eight nights. You were home, alone, again, just waiting for Tommy to return home despite knowing he probably wouldn’t until the early hours of the morning.

You were standing in the living room, just staring out the glass of your balcony door, looking out over your backyard while hugging yourself and absentmindedly twisting and turning the diamond charm on your necklace.

The clock was just past midnight, the dark had fallen several hours ago and the outside was pretty much pitch black in comparison to the warm, soft light that the fire at the other side of the room illuminated inside.

But despite this, you could make out the faint shape of your cat running across the lawn outside, seeming to be hunting something too small for your eyes to pick up.

She was running, stopping every once in a while to stand on her hindlegs and claw at the air, before taking off yet again.

The sight was quite humorous and caused your lips to tug into a small smile.

Having gotten so lost in your own thoughts, you completely failed to notice the reflection approaching you from behind in the glass of the window, but still wasn’t frightened with the familiar pair of arms wrapped around your shoulders.

Almost as if out of instinct, your hands went up to grab at the forearms now crossed over your collarbones, your eyes falling shut and your smile widening with contentment as the sweet smell of Tommy’s cologne and the cigarettes he smoked invaded your senses.

He carefully leaned his head down to your shoulder, nuzzling his face into your neck.

“I missed you today.” He spoke quietly, the mere sound of his voice being enough to make your stomach flutter.

You breathed in, leaning further back into his chest and using your thumbs to caress small circles over the crisp fabric of his shirt. “I missed you, too.” You answered, humming slightly when he pressed his lips to the crook of your neck.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been home.” He apologized, and you instantly answered.

“It’s alright. You know I support you, always.”

He was quiet for a moment, only holding you and breathing into your neck slowly, the skin getting warm and damp from his breaths. “What did I do to deserve you?” He mumbled then, his voice slightly muffled.

Your smile widened even further, and slowly, you let go of his arms and turned around so that you were now facing him, your eyes locking together.

You brought your hands up to his cheeks, brushing the skin with your fingers gently and inspecting every feature of his face all while he never looked away from your wandering eyes.

Your stopped your thumbs at his lips, running one of them over the bottom one slowly with a small smile playing at your lips, before you looked up to meet his tired eyes again, answering in a mere whisper. “I ask myself the same question every time I see you.”

His eyebrows furrowed in what seemed to be concentration for a second, but the crease was quickly evened out again, and he wordlessly tilted his head down to press his lips against yours in a sweet kiss.

You smiled into it, your hands continuing to caress his cheek and he pulled you closer to his body by the small of your back, pulling you up on your toes slightly.

Slowly, you let your hands travel down his jaw, neck and along to his shoulders where they stopped, and you instantly picked up on how hard his muscles were under your touch.

You hummed at the feeling, concern growing in the pit of your stomach, and pressed your lips slightly harder against his for a second before breaking apart, moving your hands back to his face.

“Go sit down, my love.” You mumbled, carefully brushing a fallen eyelash away from his cheek. “I just made tea. I’ll go get you some.”

He was quiet for a second, just leaning his forehead against yours and watching you carefully, before he responded in a questioning voice. “With biscuits?”

His strangely childish question brought a joyful smile to your lips, pulling all the way up to your eyes as you chuckled. “Of course. I made a fresh batch earlier today.”

He gave you a smile, and you returned it, pressing another quick kiss to his lips before letting go of his face and walking around him, going out of the living room and heading for the kitchen.

Once in there, you wasted no time in bringing the tray out of the cabinet and then grabbing the kettle of tea from the stove and putting it on there, along with a cup and a plate of freshly made biscuits just like promised.

You put a few cubes of sugar on the side of the plate, and then grabbed the handles of the tray and carefully walked back to the living room.

Upon re-entering the warm room, you instantly spotted Tommy now sitting in the sofa in front of the fire, his tie now loosened around his neck.

He looked up as you rounded the sofa and you offered him a small smile.

“Take off your shirt.” You instructed and he wordlessly did as told, his fingers getting to work on the buttons of his shirt and following your every movement with his eyes as you put the tray down on the mahogany table next to him, pouring him a cup up steaming hot tea.

After placing the kettle back down, you put two cubes of sugar in and swirled them around with a spoon a few times, only stopping when he had successfully removed his shirt and put it to the side, then handing him the cup.

He carefully took it, and you moved the plate of biscuits closer to him, leaning your face closer to his.

“Thank you.” He mumbled, meeting you halfway and thanking you properly with a kiss.

You hummed into it, smiling the entire time, before breaking apart and slowly moving back around the sofa, wordlessly bringing your hands to his shoulders where you began working away at the knots and tense muscles.

He let out a throaty groan when your fingers first squeezed into his painfully hard flesh and muscle but quickly got used to it.

Once he started sipping at his tea, indicating to you that he was alright, you brought in your other hand and started humming softly under your breath, the melody leaving your lips being the very same one that had been playing when you first met.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, just massaging his worries away while he drank his tea and ate his beloved biscuits, but soon enough, the cup was empty and your fingers were aching from the amount of pressure you had used on his flesh.

But you kept going despite the pain, just wanting to give him the relief he deserved after a week of hard, hard work.

You didn’t stop massaging him until the song you had been humming came to an end and Tommy moved his hand up to catch yours, stopping you in your movements.

Without looking up from his lap, he gingerly caressed his way up from your hands to your elbows, then proceeding to pull you down just as carefully, so that your head ended up on his shoulder.

Only then did he advert his gaze, turning his head so that he could look you in the eyes. He did just that for a moment, simply staring into your eyes with an unreadable expression, before asking quietly. “Come sit down with me?”

You could only smile, leaning in and giving him a kiss before moving around the sofa.

He didn’t let go of your hand the entire time, leading you forward and pulling you into his lap. Once you were situated and comfortable, his arms wrapped around you from behind, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder.

And you just sat there in silence, staring into the fire and enjoying each other’s company before eventually falling asleep in each other’s arms for the first time in a week, both of you having missed the other dearly and Tommy finally getting the rest he deserved.

#Tommy Shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinders x reader #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders headcannon #arthur shelby #john shelby #polly gray

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